by Kelli Kimble
I hesitated, and she leaned so close that her nose was almost touching mine. “Right?” she hissed.
“Right,” I said.
“You promise you’ll show me this,” she gestured towards my body, “form when we get back?”
“I promise.”
We resumed walking.
“For what it’s worth, I argued your case again when you left. I think Lucy was ready to believe. Maybe even Shirley. But the rest still think you were playing a sick joke.”
“Mm. I wonder who they think would’ve found that joke funny.”
“Good point.”
The sun had already set and by the time we neared the dorm, it was nearly dark. The implications of my appearance at the dance last night was suddenly laid out for me: nobody else was outside. Campus was eerily quiet.
In our room, Siggie closed and locked the door.
“I won’t hurt you,” I said.
“I know that,” she snapped. “Now let’s see it.”
I took off my shoes and turned my back to her. “Unzip my dress?”
“What, like you’re going to shred out of your clothes?” The vibration of the zipper along my spine made me shiver.
“No. The fur just feels weird when I’m dressed. I don’t like it.”
I eased out of my dress and hung it up. Then I removed my nylons and slip.
“You’re stalling, Iris. Just do it.”
I turned away from her and imagined my alternate form taking over. My brassiere and underwear chafed against the fur, but I left them in place. I couldn’t take them off now, not with my hands formed into misshapen claws. Slowly, I pivoted on my toes to turn back to her. My claws clicked on the linoleum floor.
“Oh.” Her mouth formed a perfect o-shape. Her hand came up slowly to cover it, as though some part of her brain was still telling her to maintain a semblance of decorum.
“Siggie,” I said.
She screamed.
“It’s okay,” I instinctively raised my hands and tried to put them on her shoulders. She reared backwards, tripping over the leg of her desk and falling to the floor. She scrambled away from me. That was the exact wrong thing to do, stupid.
“Siggie, it’s me. I’m not going to hurt you.” I returned to my normal self and grabbed her by the foot. She’d flopped onto her belly and was now trying to crawl away. She let out another yelp.
Someone knocked on the door. “Everything all right in there?”
I recognized the nasal voice of the incompetent RA. Leave it to her to actually be paying attention when there was absolutely no danger at all.
“We’re fine,” I said. “I just startled my roommate, is all.”
There was silence on the other side of the door. Siggie lay motionless on the floor, her legs in mid-stride of a crawl step. I shook her foot.
“Say something,” I whispered.
Two or three more beats went by and the doorknob rattled.
Beneath the crack of the door the RA’s feet shuffled. “Open the door, I need to see you’re all right,” the RA said.
“We’re fine,” Siggie said. She stood, handed me my bathrobe, and opened the door. “I didn’t know Iris was here, and she startled me when I came in is all. Nothing to worry about.”
The RA craned her neck, trying to see around Siggie. Siggie pulled the door open wider to satisfy her. “See? Just the two of us.”
“Oh! Close the door. I’m not dressed,” I shrieked, pulling the robe around me.
The RA rolled her eyes. “Stop being so dramatic, would you? I have stuff to do.”
“Thanks for checking on us,” Siggie said. She closed the door.
“I told you I wouldn’t hurt you,” I said.
“I know. I know. It’s just, you’re a lot scarier than I remember you.”
“Sorry.”
“And that’s what you looked like when you went to Trixie’s room?”
I shrugged. “I wasn’t wearing any clothes for that. But yeah. I looked like that.”
“Did you talk to her? Because that was the creepiest part.”
I grinned. “We both did.”
“So, tell me again,” she said, a slow evil smile taking over her expression. “How do I go about getting this alternate form for myself?”
Chapter 15
Professor Ralston drew a large graph on the chalkboard. I flipped to a new sheet in my notebook and began copying it down. He plotted out a data line that looked something like a round-topped mountain. He tapped the chart three times with the chalk when he was finished drawing.
“Who here likes a tulip?” he asked, turning to face the class.
There was an uncomfortable silence. I glanced over at Siggie. Professor Ralston was notorious for drawing unsuspecting students into a web of impossible questions. Siggie raised her shoulders and shook her head. Against my better judgment, I raised my hand.
“Excellent. Miss Hond. I’m so glad to hear it. What can you tell me of tulip mania?”
Great. Professor Ralston is going to make me look like an idiot when most of the campus is already treating me like a disease.
“Tulip mania, sir?”
“Yes. Specifically, the incident in 1637, if you please.”
I frowned. “I don’t know anything about that, sir,” I said.
“Terrific. Everyone is going to write a paper about it. You will detail when and where it occurred, what specifically happened, the economic phenomena that it is an example of, and the immediate and latter day repercussions of the event. Understood?”
I rushed to scribble down the requirements of the paper. My last paper had received a C+, and though that was a passing grade, I wanted to prove to him — and myself, that I could do better. All around me, everyone else was doing the same. Professor Ralston erased the line chart on the chalkboard without asking if everyone had had the opportunity to copy it down.
“Thank you, everybody. I look forward to reading those papers on Monday. Class dismissed.”
The room descended into chaos as half the class tried to gather their things and flee while the other half rushed towards him, shouting out questions about the paper. I was reasonably confident that between Siggie and myself we had what we needed, so I fell into the former group. I pushed through to get out the door, though anyone who was paying attention was willing to get out of my way without any prompting.
Outside, Siggie tugged me in the direction of the library. “I want to get a jump on this paper,” she said. “If we wait until the weekend, we have to wait our turn for materials.”
Even though my stomach was growling, and I really would have preferred a trip to the dining hall first, I followed. She made a line right for the research desk. The world’s oldest librarian was staffing the desk.
“Hello. We’re looking for materials on the tulip mania of 1637?” Siggie asked.
“Professor Ralston’s economics class? Right this way, dear,” the librarian directed us to a shelf of books that Professor Ralston had pulled for our class at the beginning of the semester.
“These are the same books that are always here,” Siggie said.
“If these aren’t suitable, there’s always the card catalog.” She shuffled away.
“Let’s check what’s here, first,” I said. “We’ll need multiple sources, so might as well see if any of these work. I’ll start at this end; you start at that end.” We each pulled a stack of books and took them to a nearby table. I opened the first one and scanned the index, then the table of contents. Nothing. I cast it aside and opened the next.
Siggie cleared her throat. “So. Have you heard from Jacob?”
I put aside another book. “No. You know it's a long distance telephone call.”
“Right. I was just hoping . . . you know, today is Wednesday.”
“I know.” I closed another useless book. “Everything will work out. You’ll see.”
“It better. We’re moving into Alpha Nu house this weekend, and I need to have a photo of a boyfriend
to put on my nightstand. Do you understand?”
I laughed. “I understand. But do you think he went off to college with a stack of eight by ten glossies just in case he landed a girlfriend?”
“A girl can dream,” she said.
We continued going through the books but didn’t find anything. We moved to the card catalog and started digging. We finally found a few resources and started taking notes. It didn’t seem terribly significant, but I was sure Professor Ralston wouldn’t set us on a futile task. Essentially, in 1637, a specific type of tulip gained so much popularity so quickly that the price of them was driven high, so high that the price was unrealistic. After several months, the unrealistic price became obvious and they plummeted in value.
“I can’t believe this is really about tulips,” Siggie said as we packed up our things. My stomach growled, and I checked my watch.
“Ugh. I’m going to be late for Professor Cane’s class. I’ll see you later,” I dashed off, leaving her to return our materials to the circulation desk. Class had already started, I snuck in as quietly as I could. For once there was a seat in the back and I eased into it. Professor Cane caught my eye and frowned. He didn’t try to embarrass me, though.
After class, I stayed to apologize. He wasn’t having any of it. As soon as everyone else was gone, he exploded.
“What in blazes were you thinking on Saturday? Everyone on campus is talking about your little stunt!”
“I know, I know. I’ve already been to see Mr. Anu to apologize. And I apologize to you, as well. I know it must have put you in a difficult position.”
“That’s putting it lightly. Anu is coming here this weekend, and he is hopping mad. I hope you’re happy. You might’ve ruined things for all of us here.”
I frowned. “He’s coming here?”
“Yes. He and Miss Cucciolo are going to be staying with me. He wanted me to let you know.”
I nodded.
“I’ll expect you for dinner Saturday. We’ll eat at six. And bring your roommate. Sigourney, right?”
“Yes, sir.”
“You’ve made a serious blunder, Iris.” He glared at me. “I just pray you won’t have to pay a terrible price.”
I retreated from him backwards, afraid that if I turned and left, he would throw the dagger that his look was threatening. The full weight of what I’d done was still materializing. What if Professor Cane decided to retaliate against me with a bad grade? Could he stop me from graduating?
Back in our room, I expected to find Siggie writing up the final pages of her tulip paper. Instead I found her poring over clothing selections.
“I’m so glad you’re back. I need your help. Which outfit says, ‘take me, I’m yours’, but also, ‘I’ll be a good mother to your children someday’?” She had clothes spread over her bed, my bed, her desk, and even over the radiator.
My heart constricted. I didn’t want her to get her hopes up only to find that Buster had refused Jacob’s invitation. “Siggie,” I started.
“No, no, no. I know that tone. You are thinking negative thoughts and I need positive ones. I felt the zing, Iris. The zing. And he did, too. I know we’re soulmates. You can’t change that with your setting-of-expectations-tone.”
She had her hands clasped under her chin. I couldn’t say what needed to be said.
“That one,” I said. I pointed to a skirt that went demurely to her knees but was form-fitting enough to show off her figure. The sweater was soft, and the deep green color would look especially nice with her hair and eyes.
She leaned forward and narrowed her eyes. “Why that one?”
“Siggie. You look great in all this stuff. You asked for my opinion. I gave it. Okay?”
“What bug crawled up your nose?”
“Professor Cane,” I said.
She grimaced. “You didn’t fail another test, did you?”
Sighing, I shoveled her unchosen clothing to the foot of my bed and collapsed into the cleared spot. “No. Mr. Anu contacted him. He says Mr. Anu is mad, and that he’s coming to visit this weekend.”
She sat beside me. “Wow, what does that mean?”
“I don’t know. But you’re going to find out. He invited you, too.”
“What?” Her voice rose into a squeak.
“We’re supposed to go to dinner at Professor Cane’s house Saturday at six.”
“We? You and me, we?” She pointed at me and then herself, like there were other people in the room who might be confused by her pronoun usage.
“He specifically asked me to bring you.”
“I’m not going,” she huffed. “If he wanted to invite me, he should’ve done it himself. No self-respecting girl accepts an invitation to dinner by hearsay.”
“Siggie. I thought you wanted to meet Mr. Anu.”
She flopped back onto the bed and covered her face with her hands. “I want to meet him when he’s in a good mood. I don’t want him ushering me to death’s door.”
“Beggars can’t be choosers,” I said. God, you’ve totally turned into Mother. “Besides, if he wanted to usher you to death’s door, he doesn’t have to ask to meet you. He just shows up.”
“Fine.” She got up and started stripping. “But I’m going against my better judgment.” She threw her dirty clothes into the corner, which was now piled almost waist deep in dirty laundry. “And it better not interfere with moving day. We’re moving to Alpha Nu house, no matter what he says.”
I was pretty sure that Mr. Anu would tell me in no uncertain terms he didn’t want me to move into the Alpha Nu house. But it was time to humor Siggie.
She put on the skirt and sweater that I’d chosen. Impressively, she didn’t second-guess my decision. Maybe she really is Buster’s soulmate after all. I gathered up her clothes from my bed and dumped them on her bed. I’d already learned that if I tried to hang them up, she would get upset that I was ‘ruining her organization system’ which seemed to consist entirely of a piling strategy.
There was a knock at the door, and Siggie let out a tiny shriek.
“Is that them?” she stage-whispered.
I shook my head. Jacob’s scent was in the air, so I knew he was out there. Whether Buster had come with him was another story. I opened the door. Jacob leaned in and kissed me on the cheek.
“You look pretty,” he said. He shifted his gaze to Siggie. “Hi, Siggie.”
Siggie was staring at him with a crestfallen expression. Buster wasn’t with him.
“Hey, I hope you don’t mind. But Buster wanted to come to dinner with us. He’s waiting out in the car. Iris said maybe you’d like to come, too?”
She actually jumped with joy.
Jacob gave me a knowing expression. I mouthed thank you and he nodded.
We went down to the car. Buster was leaning up against Jacob’s car.
“Oh my gosh, he’s so cute,” Siggie gushed.
“Yes, and he can probably hear you,” I said.
Her excitement couldn’t be smothered. She rushed ahead of us to the car. She didn’t even hesitate; she stepped right into his arms and he dipped her backwards as he kissed her dramatic-movie style.
“Holy cow,” Jacob said. “And here I thought Siggie was exaggerating.”
We stood on the sidewalk, trying to look at everything but them. They finally broke apart.
Jacob coughed. “Buster, I don’t think you’ve formally met Iris. Iris, Buster.”
He shifted so that Siggie was tucked under his left arm and he shook my hand. “Not sure that any introduction is actually necessary. I saw you at your most . . . vulnerable.”
I chewed my lip and snatched my hand back.
“I apologize for the scene I made,” I said. “It wasn’t my intention to cause such a disturbance.”
“Nothing to worry about,” he said. “A parade of elephants ridden by vampires would have been fine, so long as I got to meet Siggie.” He looked down into her eyes, and she gazed up at him like he was the only guy on the planet.
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Maybe for her, he was.
Was this how Jacob and I looked to other people? It was unsettling.
We headed over to the diner and went in We were seated in our usual area and the sad worn out waitress came over to take our order. When she was gone, I thought we’d settle into a conversation. Instead, Siggie and Buster pressed against each other and kissed.
Jacob caught my eye, which wasn’t easy since I was doing my best to study my cuticles under the table.
“Do something,” he hissed.
I cleared my throat and Siggie let out a little whimper.
“Siggie,” I said. They didn’t seem to hear. I repeated myself. “Siggie. Siggie!”
She broke away. “Yes?” She wiped spit off her lips. Buster grinned like a maniac.
“We’re in a public place. Could you two cool it?”
“Fine.” Her lower lip pushed out in a slight pout. “But who knows when we’ll see each other again.”
“Saturday,” Jacob said. “We’re all supposed to go to dinner with Mr. Anu at your professor’s house.”
“Buster, too?” Siggie asked.
“Yes. All four of us, Mr. Anu, Tessa, and Professor Cane.”
“Who’s Tessa?” Buster asked.
“Nobody you care about, sweetie,” Siggie said, jabbing him with her elbow.
“She’s my sister,” Jacob said.
“Oh, great. Another hot sibling? Am I going to have to fight for Buster?”
Jacob laughed. “I don’t think so. Tessa’s ancient.”
“I thought she was in her early thirties,” I said.
“Yeah, ancient. You’ve got nothing to worry about, Siggie.”
“Now I’m intrigued,” Buster said.
The sad waitress came with our food and we politely stopped talking while she plunked our plates in front of us. “Enjoy your meal,” she said in a monotone, before slumping away.
“So, your gift. Can you use it to put someone out of their misery?” Buster asked. “Because I have never met someone with a negative will to live before.”
I started to point out that I’d thought the same, but then a prickle went up my neck. Jacob had told Buster the truth. And he seemed okay with it. Unexpected. I turned to meet Jacob’s eye, but he kept his eyes on his food.
