Pippa’s and Janie’s boyfriends had been kind enough to pretend their girlfriends weren’t lesbians and build a dining room table that would accommodate fourteen. Unfortunately the dining room hadn’t been made to the same specifications, so the living room had become a sort of banquet hall once the table was introduced the month before, and the small dining room between the kitchen and living room had become a cozy study space that hardly anyone used.
She pulled the rolls from the oven to let them cool on the stovetop and set out the paper plates at the start of the food line. Cooking had never particularly held her interest until the other option was sorority planning. And yes, it bothered her that she’d discovered this nascent hobby so soon after her Father had suggested culinary school. But it didn’t bother her so much that she would opt for the meetings instead.
“Ready when y’all are,” she hollered toward the dining room.
Maddy groaned morosely as she entered the kitchen. “Ugh … those rolls smell so good.”
“Then get at ’em.” Jessica flinched when the words sounded exactly like something Destinee might say.
Maddy frowned and her shoulders sagged as she grabbed a paper plate off the stack and stared sadly at the salad bowl. “I can’t. I just found out I’m gluten sensitive.”
Jessica couldn’t make much sense of that. She didn’t put anything called gluten in the rolls. “What does that mean?”
Maddy flopped a tong’s worth of salad onto her plate before moving along the line to the spaghetti, pausing, and sighing heavily. “It means I can’t eat anything delicious anymore.”
“That sounds horrible.”
“Don’t worry,” Tamara piped in. “I can’t eat it either. You get used to it.” She dished herself some salad before pouring a horrifying amount of ranch over the top.
“It’s true,” Andrea added. “Right now, Maddy, you’re literally going through withdrawals. It’ll get easier. I’m sensitive too. Not super sensitive, but I stay away from it.”
“Wait,” began Jessica, “so is that an ang—” Kate shook her head furiously and Jessica realized what she was about to say. Shit. She’d almost outed a half dozen angels. She did her best to recover. “Anglo thing? Is that an Anglo thing? I guess I still don’t understand.”
Andrea served herself a heaping pile of spaghetti. “Um, no I don’t think it’s an Anglo thing. It’s an autoimmune reaction to protein found in wheat and barley and rye and a few other weird grains.”
What a horrifying idea. If this had been a year ago, when she was still on the fence about God’s existence, she might have thought this definitive proof against Him. “So you can’t eat bread?”
Maddy nodded, pouting slightly. “Just found out last week.”
“And you?” Jessica asked Tamara. “How long have you known?”
She shrugged. “For like ten years. The beginning of the end of church for me. Couldn’t take communion anymore, which is apparently a big no-no for Catholics. You should’ve seen the look on my priest’s face when I told him I had to pass on the body of Christ because it gave me the runs.”
“I figured you were just worried about getting fat,” Natalie said from behind her in line, “and that’s why you stayed away from bread.”
Tam groaned. “Such a bitch.”
“Sorry,” Natalie said, not sounding the least bit sorry, “I get cranky when I’m hungry.”
“So no bread?” Jessica said. She knew she was being redundant, if not a little bit slow, but how had she not heard about something so nuts as to keep three of her thirteen sisters from eating bread?
“I mean, there’s gluten-free bread,” Andrea said.
“There is?!” Maddy shouted, looking up.
Tamara sighed. “You have so much to learn. I’ll show you the ways.”
“It’s not as good as regular bread, though,” Andrea warned.
Asia was bad, but this seemed a tragedy, too. “And there’s no treatment?”
“I think electroshock works,” Natalie added unhelpfully. “Might as well give it a try.”
Andrea rolled her eyes. “No. No proven one.”
Natalie nodded at Jess. “Unless you got some miracle up your sleeve.”
Jessica shook her head. “I wish I did. Here, let me miracle these for you.” The other girls laughed as she held her palms flat over the rolls and closed her eyes.
Out, damned gluten! Whatever the shit that is.
But then she felt something start to form in her chest, and she thought, No way. Sure enough, though, that swirling ball moved down her arms, through her hands, and tugged free. Her palms tingled and she was afraid to open her eyes.
The kitchen fell silent, the laughter and talking cut short the moment Jessica felt the energy pull free. She cracked one eyelid and slowly moved her palms back from the rolls.
“Ach!” she jumped way.
IT’S A MIRACLE!
What a dumb fucking miracle! Are you serious?
INFINITELY SO.
She looked down at the rolls again, and sure enough, what she’d thought she’d seen was actually what she’d seen. On each roll was a blackened image of her own face staring back at her. When she leaned closer, she also noted that no two were the same. Twenty-four unique burnt portraits of herself.
I’m not okay with this. This seems narcissistic.
THINK OF IT AS PERSONAL BRANDING.
I will not.
Kate stepped forward. “Did that …? Did you …?” She stood next to Jessica and stared down at the rolls. “Oh. My. God.”
“I didn’t mean to!”
The rest of the girls closed in slowly, beholding the rolls for themselves.
“This is awful,” Jess moaned, covering her face with her hands.
Andrea leaned forward and grabbed one of the rolls off the tray for closer inspection. “That’s definitely Jess,” she said. “Was that a miracle?”
Jessica backed away, leaning against the opposite counter. “Yep. It was a goddamn miracle.” She sighed. “I reckon you can eat them now, Maddy.”
Maddy didn’t look away from the roll in Andrea’s hand. “Are you sure? I mean, of course you are. But out of curiosity, how do you know?”
Jessica rubbed the bridge of her nose. “God told me. It’s a miracle. Eat away.”
“Here.” Tamara pushed forward. “I’ll try it first. If it’s not gluten free, I’ll know within about thirty seconds. My body is basically a litmus test for this stuff.” She grabbed a roll off the tray and flinched only slightly at Jessica’s face staring back at her before popping the whole thing in her mouth. “Oh shit, I forgot how good bread is.” She slouched against the sink as if her knees were giving way.
For the next couple minutes, no one spoke or served up food or anything. The kitchen was packed to the brim with everyone crowding in to witness the accidental spectacle. Finally Tamara spoke again. “Nothing. My stomach’s fine with it.”
“Holy shit,” Natalie whispered, and Jess didn’t appreciate the girl’s reverent tone one bit. “We just witnessed a miracle.”
“Well, yeah,” Jess said tiredly. “It happens.”
“What do we do?” Maddy asked quietly.
Tamara grabbed another roll off the tray. “I suggest you start by eating these. They’re delicious.” She stared lovingly at the roll. “My god, it’s been so long …” Then she stuffed it into her mouth.
“We don’t tell anyone,” Kate said assertively. “This isn’t ours to talk about. If Jessica wants people to know, she can tell them, but we don’t go blabbing about this ourselves, okay?”
That sounded like a fantastic idea, and Jess was thrilled to see the rest of her sisters nod adamantly. Whoa. Could she actually keep this secret? People were respecting her privacy? Nice.
“So what about the spaghetti?” Tamara asked around a mouthful of her third roll. “Can you miracle that for me, too? It smells amazing.”
Jessica laughed, feeling somewhat energized by Kate’s proclamation.
“I’ll give it a shot.”
“Ooo! You think each of the noodles will have your face on it?” Pippa asked excitedly.
“Not if there’s a God.” She closed her eyes and held her palms over the large pot of noodles. As soon as the miracle ran its course, she smelled something burning and looked down. Where noodles had been was a pile of burnt mush.
“Huh. I guess the noodles couldn’t take it.” She stared down at the ruined meal, but didn’t feel particularly regretful. Turning to the rest, she asked, “Wanna see if it works with a few Papa John’s pizzas?”
* * *
“I missed you so much,” Mason said, pulling Jessica closer to him on his bed. A mysterious sour smell had been prodding at Jessica’s attention since she’d walked into his bedroom, and she’d been hard pressed to focus on her boyfriend instead of playing a guessing game where, even if she got the answer right, she probably lost.
“You could have come up and seen me,” she said, letting him pull her closer. “You were just down in San Antonio.”
“I would’ve if I could’ve, Jessica, trust me. But I was so busy. The program was so intense. Man, I want to tell you all about it, but I don’t know where to start.”
“You could start by asking me how my summer went.” Absence was supposed to make the heart grow fonder, but maybe that was just bullshit, because all it’d done for her over the past few months apart from Mason was create space for other things to slip in. Or rather, other people.
But she was still glad Mason was back and would by no means put up a fight when he wanted to hold her close against him in bed, albeit above the sheets and fully clothed.
“You already told me about your summer, though,” he said, looking confused. “I texted you last week asking you about it and you said it was good.”
Jessica chuckled dryly. It was true. She’d responded with, “It was good.” Because she hated texting and Mason was shit at it. His disregard for basic terminal punctuation made his long messages unreadable.
“You’re right,” she said. “I forgot I told you all about it already.”
He didn’t catch the sarcasm. “Oh! I wrote you a song. Well, I wrote you a bunch of songs, because, duh, it was a songwriter’s program, but I think you’ll really like this one. Or at least I hope you do.” He jumped up from the bed and grabbed his guitar from the stand, throwing the strap over his shoulder. “It’s called, ‘The Song That Jess Likes.’ ”
That seems a bit presumptive.
She smiled. “Okay, let’s hear it.”
Sitting quietly and playing the role of audience, Jess listened to another long Mason White original. It was good. She liked it. The title wasn’t wrong.
“What do you think?” He grinned greedily down at her afterward.
“I like it!”
“Yes!” He punched the air. “I knew you would.” He placed his guitar down on the stand again and jumped back into bed with her, reaching around and placing his palm full on her ass. “You just inspire me like crazy.”
“Can I tell you something and have you promise not to tell anyone else?” she asked.
His eyes popped open for a second before narrowing hungrily at her. “Of course, Jessica.”
“I discovered another miracle over the summer.”
Mouth opening in awe, he didn’t speak.
“I can remove gluten from rolls. And pizza crust, turns out. Maybe more things, too. But not pasta. At least not spaghetti. I might try ravioli soon.”
“That’s incredible,” he whispered. “You are incredible. I want to see you perform it. I need to see you perform it.”
“Uh, sure. You have anything with gluten in it?”
He nodded and ran out of the room, returning with a loaf of generic white bread. “I’m pretty sure this is all gluten.” He frantically undid the twist tie and shook free a few pieces. “Here.” In his hurry to witness a miracle, he practically threw the slices at her.
Don’t be annoyed. This is a first for him, even if it’s unimpressive.
She set the slices down on his comforter and closed her eyes, hovering a palm over each. When she felt the miracle run its course, she opened her eyes, held up the slices for him to see and grinned. “Ta-dah.”
He cupped his hands over his mouth and slowly approached for a closer look. “Oh … my …”
She waited patiently as he continued to gawk at her two images burned into the bread, then turned them around to get a better look for herself. “Ew, that’s not a very good one of me.” She took a large bite out of the slice to rid the earth of the image.
Before she could even finish chewing, Mason pounced, pinning her to the bed underneath him, his crotch pressed against one of her thighs. “You’re so sexy, Jess.”
Should she wait until she’d finished chewing the soggy ball of bread to respond? She decided yes. It bought her more time.
But she didn’t need to respond, because Mason leaned down and started planting kisses all over her neck, and she was able to chew and swallow in relative peace.
“God may damn me to hell for it, Jess, but I can’t resist anymore. I’m only human. I need to be inside you.”
Whoa.
Where had that come from? They’d still hardly made out, and now he wanted to slip it to her? It was jarring, even if she’d been dreaming of the very act since the moment she’d first laid eyes on him in the CSC.
Plus … period. Men really knew how to time it.
“Take off your pants,” she said.
He didn’t hesitate. And as soon as he had his pants off, she considered adding, And your shirt. All your clothes. Take them all off. There was really nothing quite as haunting as a man with no pants and a raging boner with his shirt still on.
It didn’t help that her first thought when she saw his exposed lower half was, That’s it?
He jumped back on top of her again, and with some degree of difficulty, she was able to roll him onto his back and do what needed to be done.
What is that sour smell?
Focus, Jessica.
She spit on her hand and Mason continued to moan and writhe beneath her grip. She hoped this wouldn’t take long. It didn’t. Less than half a minute later, he gave her the Ol’ Gentleman’s Warning. “I’m so close!” But then he added, “Your mouth.”
“Uh, no thanks.”
“Oh God oh Lord God oh Holy Father fill me up! FILL ME— GNUUUUUH!”
Jessica really hoped he didn’t open his eyes and catch a glimpse of her horrified expression.
This gives me a lot to think about.
But once Mason had headed into the bathroom to clean up and Jess was left alone with plenty of time to wipe her hand off on a tissue and commence the thinking process, she decided maybe what had just happened was a perfect example of something that should never be scrutinized too closely. Besides, everything involving sex seemed a little weird to begin with. Yet, for some reason, people still did it. Lots. And she still wanted to do it eventually. But for the first time, she began to wonder if, after hearing the holy nightmare a simple hand job unleashed, she wanted to take things to the next level with Mason.
Jessica tried to keep the flashbacks to a minimum, but it wasn’t easy when the NAO pledge party reminded her so much of her first and only brush with Greek life. No mushrooms this time, and Mason was present, so less of a chance of accidental cheating, too.
“Relax,” Kate said, appearing on Jessica’s right as she stood just outside the back door, staring out into the social mob. Kate held out a clear plastic cup. “It’s beer. Promise.”
Jessica smiled and took it from her. “I just don’t like crowds.”
Kate nodded understandingly. “You having flashbacks to Danny?”
“A little.”
“Makes sense,” she said. “I mean, he did try to rape you.”
“I don’t know if I would say that.”
She turned to look at Kate who stared humorlessly at her. “I would. He tried to have sex with you when you di
dn’t consent. That’s rape. Or at least attempted.”
“Let’s talk about something else.”
“Like how incredible it smells inside?” Kate said, lightening.
Exhaling deeply, Jess nodded. “Yeah. That.”
“Mason has practically had to fight people off to keep them away from the table. He almost had to fight me off, truth be told. Those cookies smell so good.”
“I think I would pay money to see Mason fight someone,” Jessica said.
“Really?”
She looked over at Kate and grinned. “Yeah, it would be kinda hot to see him throw a punch. He’s not the type, though.”
“But that’s good, right?”
Jess shrugged a shoulder and looked back out at the crowd. “I guess.”
One of the prospective pledges, a tiny freshman who’d tracked Jessica down at the student center the first week of classes, walked by and waved cheerily. Jess returned the smile and wave, and the girl stumbled back into the mob.
“I think it’s the right call,” Kate said, “letting others know. I mean, if we’re going to recruit, we have to have something to show them, so if you’re not going to kick a field goal or resurrect anyone, this is what we have to go on.”
“I know, I know.” She sighed. “Might as well get this over with.” She turned and headed inside to the dining room.
When she entered, Mason was already there, sitting on one of the wooden chairs with his back to the piles of pastries and rolls and cookies, playing “The Song That Jess Likes” to a small group of adoring female fans. When he spotted her, he placed his palm over the strings to mute them and asked, “Is it time?”
“Yep.”
“Awesome. Want me to help round people up?”
“Sure.”
Jessica took her place at the center of the table, back facing the far wall so she could look out into the rest of the living room-turned-dining room, and tried to steady her breathing, as if managing to do so would allow her to feel less like an asshole for the show she was about to put on. She stared down at the food spread out in front of her as the music outside was cut and Kate’s muffled voice began to direct partygoers inside. Soon each baked good would bear her image, and she knew from plenty of practice rounds ahead of time that many would not be all that flattering. But no one would notice that. They would all be too full of awe or whatever.
Nu Alpha Omega Page 28
