by Shayn Bloom
Kiri bangs through the door carrying her cello case.
“Can I call you back, Dad?” I ask him. “Kiri – my roommate – got back and I need to ask her something before she runs off again.”
“Let’s call it a night,” Dad says. “Stay well, make friends, study hard. By the way, how’s the liquor in town?”
Surprised, I stumble through, “I – I wouldn’t know.”
“I’m not a fool, Nora,” Dad says. I can hear the smile on his face. “Moderate it. Keep it to weekends. Hear?”
“Yes,” I say, abashed.
“Goodnight, Nora Rae,” he says. “Love you.”
“Love you too, Dad,” I reply, blushing as I swivel to look at Kiri. She’s politely pretending not to listen. Hanging up, I put my phone on the desk. Kiri is looking at me expectantly. “What?”
“I should be asking you,” she tells me. “What did you want to ask me before I ‘run off again’?”
“Oh right,” I say. “Want to go to dinner?” I’m not sure why I’m asking her to dinner, considering I won’t be able to eat anything. But it’s something I’ve been meaning to do and Dad said to be more social.
“Totally,” Kiri replies, beaming. “Let me get ready.”
Five minutes later we’re out the door. I’m in jeans and a flowery camisole. Kiri’s dressed in an Indian-laced top and a swishy, straw-like skirt. I have no clue where she gets her clothes. She looks like the girl in Island of the Blue Dolphins. She also looks amazing. We don’t speak until dorm building C is behind us.
A last bit of light glows in the distance above the trees. The regular campus bustle has died down, leaving only a few stragglers off to late classes or else a late dinner. Luckily the dining hall is open till 9:00pm. The serenity of the campus at night sinks into my system, thrilling my pores.
“You know,” Kiri says, “I’m not that hungry. Are you?”
I’m relieved to hear this. “Not at all,” I say truthfully.
“Wanna hit the bar?” Kiri asks. Her grin is luminous below bobbed hair and sharp glasses. “I’m buying.”
“We’re underage,” I remind her, feeling uneasy. What was Dad’s request? It is a school night, after all.
“No worries,” Kiri remarks. “My brother graduated from here two years ago. He told me there’s a bar off campus called The Mousetrap that doesn’t check ID. I’ve been meaning to check it out. Want to?”
Do it, says my alter ego. You’re so fucking boring! Live for once.
Hey, I tell her, go easy!
“Fine,” I say resignedly. “So long as you’re buying.”
“I said I was,” Kiri replies. “Come on. It’s just south of Red Square.”
* * *
The Mousetrap is a cute little dive. The mouse’s tail on the hanging wooden sign is so long it curls around the entire name. The poor mouse is cloven in two. Inside is the usual show. A long counter runs away down the right side as you enter while a halfhearted assortment of chairs and tables adorns the left.
Scooting inside, Kiri and I find a table and sit down. “Leave this to me,” Kiri says excitedly. “You sit tight!”
“Gotcha,” I reply, leaning back in my chair. I watch her scuttle over to the bar, the straw of her skirt swishing around agile legs.
Soon Kiri is back with a drink in each hand.
“What’s this?” I ask, taking mine.
She takes a hasty sip standing then plops down beside me. “India Pale Ale,” she answers. “Try it – tell me what you think.”
Raising my glass, I wait for hers. “A toast?”
“Yes!” Kiri says, raising her glass. “To love everlasting and peace on earth. And awesome grades for minimal work!”
“Cheers,” I say, kissing my glass with hers. Raising my glass to my lips, I drink deeply. My first taste of beer. Almost at once I replace my glass on the table, coughing. “That’s bitter!” I exclaim.
Kiri giggles. “No it isn’t! It’s god’s gift to mankind.”
I shudder and push it away. “You can have mine.”
“Hold on,” Kiri says after a drink. “I know what to get you.” Hopping up, she goes back to the bar. Soon she’s back and pushing a clear drink into my hand. A long straw is poking from its rim.
“What’s this?” I ask warily.
“Gin and tonic,” Kiri says. “It’ll do you wonders. Try it.”
Watching her suspiciously, I lower my mouth to the straw. Surprisingly, I like this one. It’s still bitter to the tongue but less so. It smells better. That counts. “I like this one more,” I tell her. “A lot more.”
“Cool,” Kiri says, sitting down again. “Think of it like a strong soda. With alcohol. And a straw.”
As time goes on the bar begins to fill up. Turns out Kiri’s brother isn’t the only one who knows about this very accepting establishment. Many teenage-looking students are sitting at the bar or else lounging at tables. One boy I recognize from my English 103 class. He can’t be twenty-one.
“Oh life,” Kiri says after finishing her first beer, “you’re a tricky bastard.”
I giggle. The alcohol is affecting me. My body has grown lighter. The clouds of smoke dissipating around my head. “What makes you say that?” I ask Kiri. “You seem to have things together from what I’ve seen.”
Kiri sighs and reaches for my unfinished beer. “Oh, it’s nothing – life – you know?”
“You can do better than that,” I tell her. “Come on – tell me what’s up. If you tell me I’ll tell you about the guy I met.”
Kiri’s eyebrows rise. “We’re bartering now?”
“It appears so.”
She wags a finger at me over her beer. “You knew I wouldn’t be able to resist. Oh well,” she concedes. “It’s depressing stuff I’ve had on my mind lately. You don’t want to hear me complain.”
“I do,” I say. “Tell me.”
“Twist my arm, why don’t you?” But she readjusts her glasses before saying, “I’ve been doing some research. It’s difficult to make it as a musician. Even if you do, you’re living on peanuts. I’m an above-average cellist, but I’m not outstanding. The problem is you need to be outstanding to get the peanut jobs.”
“Oh,” I say, “I – I didn’t know.”
“Me neither,” Kiri remarks, “which is the problem. If I knew right after high school I might never have come here. My whole life might be different.”
Straightening my hair with my fingers, I tell her, “I’m glad you came to Evergreen, Kiri. Otherwise I’d probably have an awful roommate. You saved me from that. So there! It was worth it!”
Grinning, Kiri gets up. “Want another drink?”
“Yes, please!” I say too enthusiastically. “Same thing.”
Kiri returns with two gin and tonics this time. Finishing my first I leap onto my second. Geez, is this how alcoholism begins? Probably.
“Okey-dokey, I kept my half of the bargain,” Kiri informs me. “Now tell me more about your new boyfriend!”
I roll my eyes to the ceiling. “He’s not my new boyfriend. Err – I don’t think he is, anyway. Not yet.”
“You’re not sure,” Kiri observes. “You might want to clear that up before things get awkward.”
“I mean I like him,” I defend. “He’s – um – he’s different, you could say. Not like most guys…” Geez, how do I phrase this without giving away his secret? “He has special abilities. Abilities most guys don’t have. He has a pet owl named Merrifeather and he dresses in bright, eccentric clothes –”
Kiri snorts into her gin and tonic and doubles over coughing. Worried, I lean in closer, but soon realize her hacking cough has turned into wheezing laughter. “Nora!” she exclaims. “Nora, you poor thing!”
“What?” I’m looking around in embarrassment. People are staring at us from the bar. “What did I say wrong?”
“Oh – nothing,” Kiri burps. She erupts into another fit of giggles. “I – I hate to be the bearer of bad tidings,” she hiccups upo
n righting herself, “but I think you were right. He’s not your boyfriend!”
“Why’s that?” I’m starting to feel annoyed. She’s having a little too much fun at my expense. “He took me to the beach the other day and we held hands. Then he made my clothes all fresh and new. Oh, and he likes wands,” I throw out dissonantly. Maybe she’ll pick up on that one. “Why are you laughing?”
For Kiri is wiping tears of mirth from her eyes now.
I wait for her fit to pass.
Eyes dry, Kiri looks at me and sighs. “I hate to tell you this, Nora, but your boyfriend is – uh – bent.”
I blink at her. “I’m not following.”
“He’s poofy,” she says.
I stare. “What are you saying?”
“Nora!” Kiri says in exasperation. “He’s a martini with a twist!”
I shake my head. Geez, I wonder if these are secret code words for wizards. Maybe Immags do know about them.
“A strawberry daiquiri?”
“Kiri,” I say. “I don’t understand what you’re saying.”
She frowns, thinking. “He’s a friend of Dorothy.”
“Just tell me!”
Sighing, Kiri covers her eyes. “Nora. He’s gay. I’m sorry.”
Realization hitting, I palm my forehead. “Oh, you – you completely misunderstood.” But then I start to giggle. This sets Kiri off, too. And for a long time we can’t stop. Gulping down much-needed air with my gin and tonic, I stumble into another fit of giggles as Kiri gets us another round.
I can’t believe you said all that in that way, my alter ego hiccups. Even she is laughing.
Oh well, I respond, at least his cover isn’t blown.
“In other news,” I tell Kiri when she returns, “My mom has a boyfriend for the first time since the divorce. Best part is she found him in under a week to get back at Dad for having a date last weekend.”
“Whoa,” Kiri says, sipping from her straw, her eyes turning hazy in the dull light. “That’s seriously messed up. Is your Mom’s new boyfriend gay too?”
“Probably,” I say. “But Gabriel isn’t gay! He’s just eccentric. I think he likes me. No. I know he likes me. So there!”
“Suit yourself,” Kiri says calmly. “But remember – I warned you. So when you’ve gotten your heart all tangled up in him and it doesn’t work out don’t come tripping to me! My arms will be crossed!”
I shake my head at her, my grin stamped and irremovable. “Why don’t you meet him? Since you’re so good at telling these things, meet him and decide if he’s gay. Until then he gets the benefit of the doubt. Deal?”
“Deal,” Kiri confirms. We raise our replenished glasses for a toast. “We’ll be seeing about this Gabriel. By the way, I have tons of laundry that needs doing in my closet. You can send him right over.”
* * *
I’m walking to English 301: The Art of the Essay.
My head is splitting. Only after finishing our third round of gin and tonics did Kiri and I wind our way back to dorm building C. I assume Kiri made it to her early class. She was gone when I awoke. Now I’m trudging to class. If I’m going to be a drinker I need to invest in some fucking Tylenol.
Another rainless, cloudy day. It’s not the rain that’s oppressive here, but the perpetually looming nature of its possibility. The rain isn’t debilitating when it comes. But the feeling rain is always seconds away grows wearisome on a soul.
Finding my usual seat by the window, I watch as the class files in. A mopey crowd this morning. Or maybe it’s just Tuesday. Neither is a cheerful thought. Less cheerful still is Wolf’s empty chair. Where is he? He’s never late.
Dr. Tuten walks into the room, the lone sprightly figure. “Good morning,” he says cheerfully. “Had a good weekend?” Nobody answers. “I’ve graded your essays,” Tuten continues. “So when I call one of the names in your team, put your hands up and I’ll bring it over. Martinheim?”
A terrible thought occurs to me as I stare at Wolf’s empty chair. Evergreen State College is still within the drop/add period. For a couple more days, anyway. What if Wolf dropped the class? The thought makes sick. Sicker than I already feel. I don’t know what I’d do if he dropped it.
Wolf is the reason I look forward to this class. He has the warmest black eyes I’ve ever seen. The cutest crooked smile. The most ripped body… I can’t believe he’s gone. I can’t believe he didn’t give me some notice. Some warning. I deserve that much. How could he be so cruel? How could he be so –?
Wolfgang strides in as Tuten calls, “Saynt-Rae!”
“Give it here,” Wolf says. The professor hands him the essay. Wolf winks from across the room as he comes over. Tossing himself in his seat, he grins over at me, his crooked smile hotter than a blazing fire. “Thought you’d never see me again?”
“Of course not!” I lie through my teeth. “How’d we do?”
Wolf frowns down at the paper then glances at me. “Hmm,” he ponders, “says at the top, ‘While the essay is well conceived and constructed, the scratch on the paper is so unearthly and disjointed I can only assume the person doing the writing had some mild form of dysgraphia.’ We got a C,” Wolf adds. “‘For the poor penmanship,’ it says.”
“I don’t believe you!” I swipe the essay from him. Retrieving it, I notice the sprawling B across the top. At the bottom are only two words. ‘Very imaginative.’ I scowl over at Wolf, who is grinning crookedly. “Scoundrel,” I tell him. “‘Very imaginative,’” I repeat darkly. “Sounds like a dig.”
“Probably is,” Wolf says carelessly. “But hey, we got a B!”
My eyes take in the title: Werewolves: The Sworn Protectors. I wonder… “Want to hang out after class?” I ask him. I’m trying hard to sound casual. “I’ve got some free time before History.”
Wolf looks surprised, but more pleased. “Sure thing,” he says. “You know I’ve got time. Only taking one class, remember?”
The clouds have cleared. So has my headache. The sky yields to clarity as it serenades our steps with a breeze and the occasional leaf for whose tree autumn has come early.
Wolf and I are walking to Red Square. Hoisting my weightless backpack on my shoulder, I feel weightless, too.
Glancing at my companion, I’m dazzled by smooth, russet skin and full, maroon lips. He’s so cute! I don’t care what Dad says – I can have guy friends if want to. Now I think of it, my social life isn’t that bad. I have two friends now: Kiri and Wolf. Then there’s Gabriel, whatever the hell he is to me. Still haven’t figured him out.
“You’re quiet,” Wolf says, black eyes sweeping me. “Did you want to show me around campus? Because I know where stuff is. I live here!”
Eyeing him coldly, I stow my grin as best I can. “No, Wolf! I didn’t want to show you around campus. I know you live here. I think you know perfectly well why I want to hang out with you.”
“Oh no,” Wolf says, his expression caving. “I – is it that obvious?” He’s looking anxious. Embarrassed, even.
“Kind of,” I tell him. “Let’s find somewhere to sit.”
Leading him to one of the wrought iron tables around Red Square, I sit and Wolf follows suit. The table is one of those metallic ones where the chairs are attached at the bottom. I always find these tables uncomfortable. Fitting, as this is going to be an uncomfortable conversation.
“You know?” His voice is small.
“How could I not?” I ask him. “It was so obvious from day one. Well – day two, actually. But still – it was right there in front of me. From the way you were acting I thought you wanted me to know, Wolf. You were letting it slip every second. How ignorant do you think I am?”
“It’s not like that,” Wolf says hoarsely. His tone is drenched in defeat. “I – I don’t think you’re ignorant or anything. I should have assumed you’d guess. I wish I figured out a way to do it tactfully.”
I shake my head. Poor dude. I’m shaming him unnecessarily. “It’s hard to be tactful with something
like this.”
“Totally agree,” he says. Abashed, his russet cheeks are glowing red. “Not for a lack of trying, Nora. Never for a lack of trying. Not on my part. I wish I said it when I should have. Back when we were writing that essay together. I’m surprised we scraped a B. My essay was pathetic. Pretentious and verbose. I was trying to impress you with it. Even now I want to impress you.”
Geez, he’s so shy about it.
“You do impress me.”
Come on, Wolf! My alter ego shouts at him. Out with it!
Relax, I tell her, give him space.
“So that’s that,” I say, freeing a slow smile. “I know now. We can put secrets behind us and get on with life.”
Black eyes are upon me. “I’d love that, Nora. No more secrets. Everything out in the open. You know,” he adds, a cautious grin spreading across his features, “I’m glad you’re taking this so well. I thought you’d reject me outright. Cast me away like a bad dog. I’m glad you’re cool with it.”
Who does he think I am? A terrible person?
“Reject you outright?” I repeat in shock. “Never! I could never do that to someone as sweet as you.” He blushes hugely at this. “To be honest,” I continue, “I’m starting to believe just about everything, no matter how crazy. Not long ago I’d have considered you ridiculous. Actually, I still consider you ridiculous.”
“You do?” His voice falters as his demeanor deflates. “I – I don’t think I deserve that,” he remarks, his voice dusted with aggravation. “I’ve got my heart on my sleeve here and you’re making fun of me!”
“No, Wolf!” I say hastily, back treading. “Nothing like that! What did you expect me to think? This is so weird! You’re so weird! You have to admit it to yourself. You’re odd. Different, Wolf! You have to own it to live it!”
Wolf is shaking his head, black eyes wide. He slumps back and stares at me like he’s never seen me before, the radiating warmth of those black eyes growing cold. “You are cruel, Nora,” he tells me, his voice laced with shock. “You have a cruel heart to say those things. Here I am telling you I like you – like you a lot, in fact – and you throw it back in my face and laugh. Calling me weird. Different.”
