by Kitty Parker
"Nah, that's alright," she replied, raising an eyebrow at the reddish condiment covering my quesadilla. "Dude, you're so going to burn the roof of your mouth off."
I shrugged off her concerns. "I love spicy food; everyone in my family does. I think it's genetic or something. You should see my little brother. He puts hot sauce on salad." Leaving a laughing Elizabeth to order her dinner, I headed back to my table, preparing myself to sit through an inevitably awkward hour or two.
"That quesadilla is more red than your Marxist grandma," Amory teased as I set my tray down next to Elena's.
I rolled my eyes. "How many times do I have to tell you that Grandma Helen is not a commie?"
"At least once more," he replied, the corners of his chocolate-colored eyes crinkling with merriment. "When I met her, she told me that the government should confiscate my dad's yacht, sell it, and give the proceeds to the steel workers' union."
Tully snorted.
Okay, so maybe my grandma was a bit strange…
"She was kidding," I insisted. "She thinks it's fun to start fights, and she knew that talking about violating your property rights would piss you off. Enjoying getting a rise out of you doesn't make her a communist."
"What about commies?" Elizabeth jumped in, sitting down between Amory and I with her quesadilla.
"Amory thinks my grandma's a Marxist, which she's not."
"Nope," Tully added with a grin. "She's just clinically insane."
I scowled at him. He was probably right, but I wasn't about to admit that.
"My last boyfriend liked to think of himself as a commie," Elizabeth commented. "Had a huge poster of Marx in his room and all that." She shrugged. "Oh well, to each his own."
"You should have enlightened him," Amory contended. "Capitalism is the only system that works."
I'd unfortunately not yet been able to inform Elizabeth of Amory's…personality quirks, and she evidently hadn't been expecting a lecture in response to her anecdote. "Well, excuse me for not wanting to pick a fight with the guy I was dating," she huffed indignantly.
Oh no, not again, I thought, sensing a bickering match coming on. I doubted that Amory would ever learn to state his opinions in a way that wouldn't result in an argument.
"It would have been for his own good," he countered, glaring haughtily.
She returned his glare with equal venom. "How do you know what's best for him?"
He smirked and crossed his arms over his chest. "Because I'm a Wall Street god."
"So," Elena skillfully interrupted before Elizabeth could open her mouth to protest. "How about those Red Sox?"
Hearing that phrase coming from a Brit was about the funniest thing I could have imagined. Unable to help myself, I burst into laughter and was quickly followed by Tully, the other vehement Boston fan at the table.
"I don't know, Elena," he replied, catching on to her conversation diversion tactic. "How about Manchester United?"
She snorted. "Oh, sod them. I'm a Liverpool girl."
Tully chuckled at this, then continued the attempt to steer the conversation away from the dangerous realm of politics. I couldn't help but feel grateful. "So, Evie, Elena, and Elizabeth, huh? Great team; you guys could call yourselves the Three E's and make T-shirts."
My two friends giggled, never having thought of this (well, I hadn't either, to be fair). I just sort of smiled awkwardly. Tully picked up on this.
"What, you don't think I'm funny anymore, Evie?" he teased.
Oh God, I really didn't want to answer that question. The "anymore" implied that I had found him funny at some point, and any response I gave would require me to reflect on the past, which I wanted to avoid doing for as long as possible.
Luckily, Amory's curiosity bailed me out.
"How do the two of you know each other, anyway?" he inquired.
Okay, perhaps that wasn't so lucky after all.
My eyes locked with Tully's, and we simply stared at each other, stupefied as to how we should explain our uncomfortable relationship.
"Um…" I trailed off, hoping that he would somehow rectify the situation, since he was generally better at handling awkward situations than I was.
"Well, we live next door to each other," he supplied. "So we were, you know, pretty tight growing up. We were, um…actually…well, best friends."
Amory raised his eyebrows expectantly. "And then what happened?"
Elizabeth jerked slightly in her seat and Amory winced as her foot collided with his shin, wordlessly telling him to stop being a nosy prat and shut the fuck up.
"Then, um…" Tully went on, looking decidedly uncomfortable and running a hand through his dark red hair. "Then…Evie went off to boarding school…How about you two?" he hastily inquired, deftly steering the conversation away from our rocky past. "How do you know each other?"
I allowed Amory to take that question, having no desire to describe the history of my love life to Tully.
"We dated for about a year," Amory answered nonchalantly.
Tully choked on the water he'd been sipping, prompting Elena to whack him on the back a few times. Apparently, the twist of fate was just too much for him to stomach.
"That seriously has to be the weirdest coincidence I've ever heard of," Elizabeth chuckled.
"Tell me about it," I muttered.
* * *
"You dated my roommate?"
"Drop it, Tully," I grumbled, not looking up from that week's issue of The Economist. I'd come outside to have some peace and quiet and read about inflation in South America, not to be interrogated.
"Why?"
"Because I don't want to talk about it."
Not picking up on my not-so-subtle hint that I wanted to be left alone, he sat down next to me on the grass outside of The Mews. "So, Evie, how've you been?"
How can he just be so casual about this? I squirmed uncomfortably, still staring determinedly at my magazine. "Fine."
"What have you been up to?"
"Nothing special."
Tully let out a frustrated sigh. "Come on, Evie, talk to me," he pleaded, plucking The Economist out of my grasp and setting it off to the side.
I just stared off over the lawn, feeling more awkward by the second.
"Do I sense a grudge here?"
"No, of course not!" I immediately protested, finally turning to face him. I wasn't mad at him, after all. It was just weird being around him again after everything that had happened between us.
"Then why won't you talk to me?" he asked, a rather hurt expression marring his features.
I bit my lip. "I guess I…just don't really have anything much to say."
He chuckled, attempting to ease the tension between us. "I've known you for a long time, Evie, and I've never known you to not have anything to say."
"Are you implying that I talk too much?"
He grinned. "Maybe."
"Well, maybe I've changed," I retorted, scowling.
"And maybe you haven't," he countered.
I couldn't come up with a suitable argument, so I settled for simply glaring at him.
His expression softened. "Come on, Evie. Don't be like that. I mean, I know you're probably kind of shocked-"
"You're the one who was staring at me like I were Hamlet's father's ghost or something at dinner," I interrupted.
"Well, it was a pretty big surprise that you knew my roommate, not to mention dated him," he defended himself. "Don't try to tell me you weren't surprised as well."
"I already knew about it," I admitted.
He stared at me incredulously. "And you didn't tell me?"
"What was I supposed to do?" I asked. "Pop into your room, say 'Hi, Tully, how are you? Oh, and by the way, your roommate's my ex'?"
"Well, no, I guess not," he conceded.
There was an awkward silence. Then again, all of the silences between us had been pretty awkward so far, so this one was nothing out of the ordinary.
"So…" he began.
"So what?"
He gave
me a look.
"Sorry," I chuckled, grinning. "I couldn't resist."
His face lit up with sudden glee. "There's that smile! And to think it only took us…" he consulted the clock on his cell phone"…ten minutes!"
I shrugged. "That's progress, I guess."
"Do you think we'll make any more?" he asked sincerely before realizing that his question could easily be misconstrued as a sexual innuendo. "I mean, not like that, just…in general."
I sighed. "I guess we can't really go backwards. It'll take time, though, cause things are still pretty awkward."
"They're only awkward cause you make them awkward, Evie."
"Maybe so," I conceded. "But that doesn't mean the awkwardness doesn't exist."
"You and your awkwardness phobia…" he muttered, rolling his bright green eyes.
Suddenly, a bunch of loud, whooping shouts split the evening air as a pack of boys dashed across the lawn toward Appel Commons, all of them stark naked. It was my first experience with streakers, and I was thoroughly amused.
Momentarily forgetting my problems, I laughed out loud freely. Tully soon joined in with his far more manly chuckle. It was deep and rich, rolling around in his chest and creating a warm, pleasant sound.
I'd missed that laugh, not that I was going to tell him, of course. Still, I couldn't help the pang of nostalgia that shot through my heart, and I turned my face away, hiding from my old best friend the one tear that had managed to break free.
Chapter 2: The Dead Economists Society
BRRRRIIIINGGG!
"Nooooo," I moaned, blindly swiping at the air in the vague direction of my night table and the old-fashioned, ringing alarm clock that sat on top of it. "Too…fucking…early…"
If there was one thing I was not, it was a morning person.
My hand finally made contact with something hard and metallic, successfully knocking it to the floor. The ringing continued, just muffled slightly by the carpet.
"Mmm, is it a fire drill?" Elena slurred, yawning as she sat up in bed.
"No, alarm clock. Go back to sleep." I reached down to retrieve the offending object and quickly switched it off.
Mumbling something along the lines of "bloody eight-o'clock classes," Elena rolled over and placed her pillow over her head.
I slipped out of bed as quietly as I could, stopping to grab my towel and shower caddy (plus a granola bar for a woefully unsubstantial breakfast) before heading off down the hall. It had been six days since I'd moved into the dorm, and I was still pretty wary of the whole co-ed bathroom thing. I figured that a lot of people were, though, because really, who wants to have someone of the opposite sex barging in on them while naked? Unless you're making a porno, that's generally the sort of situation you'd want to avoid.
When I reached the bathroom, I pulled the door open and cautiously poked my head inside. It was empty. Heaving a sigh of relief, I entered and stepped into the nearest shower, pulling the curtain shut behind me. Setting my caddy down on the weird plastic bench thing in the corner of the stall and hanging my towel up on the hook that was (I hoped) out of the water's range, I quickly stripped, set my night clothes to the side, and turned on the faucet, relishing the feeling of the warm water hitting my body. It had taken me three days to figure out how to get the temperature where I wanted it, and I was glad that I finally had it worked out.
I squeezed a good amount of shampoo into my palms and worked it into a lather, massaging it into my hair. Classes were beginning for the term and the first one I had was arguably the most important on my schedule: Intermediate Macroeconomics. Since I was considering being an econ major, it was highly important for me to ace that course…at least in my opinion. I could technically get by with a passing grade, but I was never one to slack off.
I needed a way to squelch the nerves that were beginning to twist my stomach into knots. Pausing momentarily in my scrubbing, I listened to make sure that I really was alone in the bathroom before starting in on my favorite stress-reduction method: singing.
"The hills are aliiiiive…with the sound of muuuuuuuusiiiiic," I belted in my best Julie Andrews voice. "With songs they have suuuung…for a thousand yeeeeeeeears…The hills fill my heaaaart…with the sound of muuuuuuuusiiiiic…my heart wants to sing every song it heeeeeeeears…"
Suddenly, I stopped. I could have sworn I'd heard some distinctly male snickering coming from one corner of the bathroom. The door opened and shut, and I knew I'd been found out. I could only hope that whoever it was didn't recognize my voice. But then again, why should he? It wasn't like I knew every guy on my floor. Still, not wanting to risk any more potential embarrassment, I clammed up and finished my shower in silence.
After heading back to my room, dressing in the most studious-looking outfit I could come up with, brushing my hair, and putting on a slight touch of makeup, I made my way down to the other end of the hall to pick up Amory. He also was planning on majoring in economics, and as we had both placed out of the introductory course, he had wound up in my intermediate macro class. We decided to walk to our first lesson together, since we figured there was power in numbers.
I located the correct room, thanks in part to the somewhat cheesy name signs our RA had put on everyone's doors, and knocked softly.
"Come in."
I did so, taking a look around the room as I entered. One side of it was impeccably neat, but the other was beginning to accumulate small piles of random papers and articles of clothing (including a few pairs of boxers, all of different colors). Three guesses as to whose half of the room that was.
"Tully, you really need to get out of the habit of leaving your underwear lying around on the floor."
He grinned at me sheepishly from his seated position on his bed. "Oops?"
Rolling my eyes (but smiling in spite of myself), I turned my attention to Amory, who stood in front of the mirror on his closet door, combing his hair. "You almost ready?" I inquired.
"Yup," he replied. He finished grooming himself and gave his reflection a final once-over. "But first, Tully and I have a surprise for you."
I raised my eyebrows, not having expected anything like that. "Oh? What is it?"
Tully stood up. "It's something very special. Should we give it to her, Amory?"
"I think we should," he replied, grinning. "You ready?"
Tully's face cracked into an identical grin. "Ready."
The room was suddenly filled with the most horrible, off-key falsetto I'd ever heard.
"Do, a deer, a female deer. Re, a drop of golden suuuuuuuuun. Mi, a name I call myself. Fa, a long, long way to ruuuuuuuuun. Sooooo, a needle pulling threaaaaaaad. La, a note to follow soooooooo. Ti, a drink with jam and breaaaaaaad. That will bring us back to-"
"SHUT UP!" I bellowed, clapping my hands over my poor, abused ears. "Are you two trying to shatter a window?"
"Well," began Tully nonchalantly. "We figured you'd appreciate that, since, you know, you apparently like The Sound of Music so much…"
My eyes grew wide. "You heard that?"
He jerked his thumb at Amory. "He did."
I rounded on my ex. "And you decided to share it with your roommate. Fan-fucking-tastic." I was particularly annoyed about this because of my relationship with said roommate, but I also kept in mind that Amory didn't really know the whole story and therefore wasn't totally sadistic.
"I couldn't resist the opportunity to mess with you, Evie," he admitted, grinning widely.
I wasn't about to give in to humiliation that easily. "Well, what I'd like to know," I began, planning on turning the embarrassment around on the two numbskulls before me. "Is how the two of you know the lyrics to a musical in the first place, big, strapping gentlemen that you are."
They both turned a lovely shade of pink. "You made me watch it with you!" Amory insisted.
I shrugged. "Maybe I did. What's your excuse?" I turned to Tully and raised an eyebrow expectantly.
His blush deepened. "Um…I don't really have one…"
/> "Aha!" I crowed triumphantly. "The supposedly manly varsity hockey player has been caught watching musicals! My condolences on the loss of your balls."
Normally, I wouldn't tease guys about enjoying supposedly non-masculine things (I really didn't have a problem with guys watching musicals, anyway). However, under the present circumstances, making Amory and Tully feel awkward made me feel slightly less awkward about being caught belting out show-tunes in the shower.
Deciding I'd tortured the boys enough (and catching a glimpse of the clock on Tully's dresser), I grabbed Amory by the arm and dragged him to the door. "Come on, we're going to be late."
"But we have fifteen minutes before class starts!" he protested.
"We have to walk all the way to the arts quad!" I insisted. "Besides, I have short legs. You know that."
He sighed. "Fine. See you later, man," he called over his shoulder to his still-blushing roommate before shutting the door behind him. "Why'd you have to embarrass Tully like that?" he demanded as we headed for the stairs.
"Why'd you two have to embarrass me like that?" I retorted.
"Touché," he conceded. "Still, Evie, if you don't want stuff like that to happen, don't sing in the shower."
I pouted. "I thought I was alone!"
"You're never alone," he whispered, giving me a really creepy look.
"Okay, that wasn't sketchy at all…"
We slipped into a comfortable silence as we descended the stairs and stepped out into the bright morning sunshine.
"You nervous?" he asked as we headed across Rawlings Green toward the main part of campus.
I attempted to appear nonchalant even though I was actually rather terrified. "What makes you think that?"
"You're messing with your class ring like you always do when you're freaking out about something," he replied, indicating my left hand, which was busy twisting the silver band on my right ring finger around in circles. "You did that during finals last year and wound up giving yourself a cut, remember?"
I blushed. "Oh, right."
"Stop being so stubborn, Evie. You can tell me if you're nervous."
"Alright, I am," I admitted as we reached the main road that led to the bridge across Fall Creek. "How about you?"
