by Laura Wolfe
Sam shook her head. “You look great, Charlotte.”
“We’re our own worst enemies,” Jenna said as the rest of us nodded.
Kaitlyn played with the ends of her hair. “You guys should give your husbands a not-so-subtle hint to cherish you. Derek surprised me in March with an all-inclusive vacation to the Dominican Republic. He even arranged for his mom to stay with the girls. All I had to do was pack my suitcase.” She lowered her long eyelashes and smiled. “It was heaven.”
Sam leaned in. “That’s awesome. I can’t complain about Thomas. He’s always doing nice things for me. He collected all the press clippings about MedTech and made a photo book out of them. The title was, ‘My Brilliant CEO Wife,’ which was quite an exaggeration, but I’ll take it.” Sam shook her head. “He’s so involved with the boys, too. I don’t know what I’d do without him.”
“Aw. That’s so sweet,” I said.
Jenna raised her chin. “Looks like everyone’s life has turned out rosy and perfect, except for mine.” Her voice sliced through our laughter and chatter.
I pressed my back into my chair as my thoughts plummeted. I wondered if Jenna was thinking about the accident that had altered the course of her life, and I braced myself for the drama that was sure to follow.
Chapter Five
Jenna’s angry words hung in the air as the rest of us sat in stunned silence. Kaitlyn widened her eyes. Charlotte’s mouth opened. Sam shifted in her chair.
I sat up. “What? Don’t be crazy, Jenna. No one has a perfect life. And your life is amazing, anyway. Don’t you know we’re all jealous of your freedom?”
Charlotte nodded. “Yeah. How many people can claim to be a successful attorney in New York City?”
A shadow passed over Sam’s face as she raised her gaze toward Jenna. “I didn’t mean to say my life is perfect. Of course it’s not.”
Jenna tugged at the ends of her chin-length hair and flattened her mouth.
“Look at your trendy condo.” Kaitlyn motioned toward Jenna’s phone. “You have the most exciting life of any of us. We’re all at home in the suburbs trying to come up with new ways to make grilled cheese sandwiches while you’re out drinking martinis and dancing to live music.”
A smile cracked Jenna’s lips.
Sam tapped the table with her manicured nails. “Seriously. I’m sorry. I thought we were having braggy time.”
I chuckled at the phrase. “Braggy time?”
Jenna touched her chin. “I don’t mean to rain on anyone’s braggy time. I’m just feeling old and bitter, I guess.”
“Join the club,” I said, offering a look of exasperation.
Sam slapped her hand down. “Okay. We’re all still young in the grand scheme of things, and braggy time is over.”
“Hey guys. I found an old photo album in my basement.” Kaitlyn slid back her chair and reached into a reusable grocery bag sitting nearby. She removed a thick book with a sea-blue cover and placed it on the table, flipping it open. “There are some real gems in here. This was our junior year, remember?”
We hunched over it. Shrieks and squeals filled the air as we studied the images of our former selves.
Charlotte tossed back her head. “Oh my God! Why didn’t anyone stop me from wearing that ugly shirt?”
“Look at my hair,” I said. “Could my ponytail be any higher?”
Jenna pointed at another photo. “I remember when I used to have long hair.” She narrowed her eyes. “Who’s that guy with Sam?”
Sam stood behind them, peering toward the book. “That’s Johnny Franklin. We dated for a few months.”
A flood of lost memories returned to me. “Oh, yeah. The guy from Vermont, right?”
“Uh-huh.” Sam scratched her nose, and I noticed she wore the same wood-beaded bracelets she used to wear in college. “Thank God I didn’t end up with him.”
“He was a big pothead, wasn’t he?” Jenna asked.
Sam nodded. “Yeah. Here’s the crazy thing. I’m connected to him on LinkedIn. He owns a marijuana growing facility in California. I guess he’s super successful.”
“Way to follow your passion, Johnny,” Jenna said as I laughed.
A group photo at the bottom of the page caught my eye. It was the five of us, plus one. “Oh my gosh. Is that Frida? I almost forgot about her.”
Charlotte leaned closer. “Yeah. That’s her. Frida King. My freshman-year roommate.”
“Look at her scowl,” Kaitlyn said, chuckling. “She was always the life of the party.”
I leaned forward, taking in the image. Frida stood at the edge of the frame a foot away from the rest of us, as if she wasn’t sure whether she should be in the photo. Her dark hair framed her face, and her small eyes peered uncomfortably toward me like she’d flipped over a rock and was cataloging everything she found underneath. Frida had never been at the center of our group but always seemed to be lurking nearby, watching. I shook my head. “I never understood what you saw in her, Charlotte.”
Sam’s smile flattened. “She always made me feel weird.”
“She didn’t wash her hands. Remember, you had to teach her about soap?” Kaitlyn said as she wrinkled her nose.
“That was because her parents were off the deep end. Frida was nice enough.” Charlotte shrugged. “Just a little socially awkward. I know what it’s like to grow up in a small town out in the middle of nowhere.”
I studied my friends, breathing in the damp night air, as my thoughts drifted back over the years.
“I hope you don’t mind. I took the top bunk. You can choose whichever desk you want.” My new roommate, Sam, tugged at the hem of her navy-blue-and-gold Marquette T-shirt. The whites of her eyes showed as she glanced toward the bunk beds. She looked as nervous as I felt.
“It’s fine. I wanted the bottom bunk, anyway,” I said. “I’ll take the desk by the window if it’s all the same to you.”
“Sure thing.”
My parents had left five minutes earlier after helping me unload my things into the dorm room and make up the bottom bunk with sheets and blankets. Sam had already claimed the top bed. Now it was just the two of us, along with a steady stream of incoming freshmen and their parents passing by our doorway.
“It’s a pretty small room for two people, huh?” I lifted a box of school supplies onto the desk by the window. My new dorm room was approximately half the size of my bedroom at home. Still, we had a decent view of a leafy treetop shading a courtyard where parents carried boxes and suitcases toward the door.
“Yeah, but it’s ours.” She flashed an eager smile.
My shoulders loosened, and I smiled back.
I’d roomed blind and immediately realized how lucky I was to have been paired with Sam. She was stunning, with dark skin and long black hair. The first thing she told me was that she was from Phoenix, which I already knew from the letter I’d received from student housing three weeks earlier. I told her I grew up in a boring suburb forty minutes away, which didn’t sound nearly as cool but made Sam laugh. She’d chosen Marquette because her parents had lived in Milwaukee before she was born, and she wanted to go somewhere no one else in her high school was going. Also, because of the school’s strong pre-med program. Sam shared details about her life in the desert, including a cactus and a pool in her backyard. The warm climate sounded so exotic to my eighteen-year-old self that she might as well have been from Zimbabwe or Acapulco. I’d never traveled out of the Midwest other than to go to Florida to visit my grandparents.
Sam had a bohemian style, with wooden beads and a bandana made of patchwork fabric. Her jeans hung loosely at the ankles. She was so much more relaxed than me.
“Hopefully you brought some warm clothes, too? The winters are brutal here.”
Sam stopped playing the beads around her wrist and looked toward the window. “I have a down coat, but I didn’t pack it.”
“Don’t worry. We have a few months. Plus, I have tons of extra hats and mittens. Consider them yours.”
/> Bellowing laughter echoed from the hallway. A second later, knuckles rapped against our open door and two tall women popped their heads inside our dorm room. One had a muscular body and looked like an all-American athlete with blue eyes and a blonde ponytail. The other one was drop-dead gorgeous with silky reddish hair and a face like a doll. She had a kind smile, which was the only thing keeping me from hating her.
“Hi neighbors! We live next door.”
Sam and I stood from our seated positions on the lower bunk.
“I’m Jenna,” said the one with the blonde ponytail. “I’m from Chicago.”
The redhead waved. “I’m Kaitlyn. I’m from Michigan.”
Sam and I introduced ourselves. Jenna told us she was attending the university on a soccer scholarship. She was supposed to have lived in a different hall with the other athletes, but someone in the housing department had messed up and put her in the room next door.
Jenna shrugged. “I’m going to stay here, though. It seems cool.”
“Don’t leave me.” Kaitlyn elbowed Jenna before telling us she planned to major in economics. We chatted about our dorm's location and shared rumors we’d heard on whether our dorm’s cafeteria lived up to the food in the other cafeterias. Then we made dinner plans because the food service didn’t begin until the next day.
Movement in the hallway caught my eye, and the others turned to see where I was looking. Someone’s parents exited the room across the hall. They looked much older than my mom and dad, and I wondered if they were grandparents instead of parents. The man wore shapeless beige pants and a button-down shirt that was a size too small. His jowls sagged around his frown, and his stern eyes avoided contact with everyone around him. A woman walked two paces behind him. Short, tight curls covered her head, the same way my grandma wore her hair. But I could see now that this woman was younger than I thought—closer to my mom’s age. Her wide and desolate face held two stony eyes. A flowered pink dress resembling a nightgown hung over her stout frame. She stepped awkwardly because of the chunky sandals on her feet. The unusual couple hurried down the hall, clearly out of their element and eager to leave.
Jenna raised her eyebrows at us. We chuckled nervously as the man and woman disappeared into the stairwell. Curiosity pulled me forward, toward the room across the way. Jenna barged past me and knocked on the closed door. A petite woman with thick brown hair, pale skin, and full cheeks stepped into the doorway.
“Hi. I’m Jenna.” Jenna waved toward the rest of us. “This is Kaitlyn, Megan, and Sam. We live in the two rooms across the hall from you.”
“Hi. I’m Charlotte.”
“Where are you from, Charlotte?” It was Sam who stepped forward now, offering Charlotte the same easy smile she’d shown me earlier.
“Northeast Wisconsin. A small town you’ve never heard of.”
I smiled at Charlotte’s joke, immediately drawn to her shy grin and down-to-earth vibe. We took turns telling Charlotte about ourselves.
“Were those your parents?” Jenna asked.
Charlotte blinked down the hallway. “Oh. No. My mom left a while ago. I have a roommate. Frida. That was her mom and dad.” Charlotte made a face. “Frida’s from an even smaller town than mine.”
As if on cue, a broad-shouldered woman sulked down the hall. She had the same plain face and intense eyes as the curly-haired woman who’d hobbled away a few minutes earlier. The young woman stopped several steps short of us with a bag of garlic bagels dangling from her hand. The hair near her part was greasy and dotted with dandruff. I looked away.
“Hi Frida,” Charlotte said, speaking louder than she needed to. “These guys live in the two rooms across the hall.”
Frida raised her chin toward us but didn’t smile. “Hey,” she said, then ducked past us into the room.
Charlotte shrugged. We stared at each other for a minute before Kaitlyn suggested we hang out in her and Jenna’s room. They kept the door open and played music, encouraging others in our hall to stop by and introduce themselves. Two guys from around the corner joined us, one of them telling Kaitlyn she reminded them of Nicole Kidman. She only fluttered her eyelashes and directed the conversation away from herself, which made me like her even more. A couple of hours later, the visitors had left. The five of us headed out for dinner.
I paced down the hall, excited to be going out to eat with my new friends, Sam, Kaitlyn, Jenna, and Charlotte. But halfway to the stairs, the weight of watching eyes pressed into my back. I flipped around, finding Frida peering through a narrow gap in the door. Her unflinching stare sent a chill through my bones. I hesitated, debating whether I should yell down the hall and invite her to come with us. Before I could decide, Frida dropped her gaze to the floor and stepped backward, disappearing behind the door like a child banished to the attic in a creepy Stephen King novel. I turned away from the empty hallway and trotted to catch up with the others as a shiver skittered across my skin.
Chapter Six
An owl hooted from somewhere beyond the lake. I scooted my chair forward, looking closer at the photo in the album. “Frida was a strange duck.”
Kaitlyn pursed her lips. “She became more normal, didn’t she? After she got away from her parents?”
“And after she started using soap,” Jenna added.
“She was smart to get away from them,” Sam said. “Weren’t her parents involved in some extreme fundamentalist religious sect?”
I nodded, remembering bits of information I hadn’t thought about since we’d gotten together five years ago. “Frida’s parents homeschooled her through high school. Didn’t they?”
“Something like that,” Kaitlyn said. “I remember Frida would come to Mass with us sometimes, right, Charlotte?” Kaitlyn twirled a strand of wavy hair around her finger.
“Yeah. She did.”
“It was so strange,” Kaitlyn continued. “Frida didn’t know the real words to any of the prayers because her parents had taught her some twisted version of them.”
Charlotte crossed her arms and leaned back. “That’s right. I totally forgot about that. Frida’s parents thought the Catholic church was too liberal.”
“Oh, for the love of Mother Universe.” Jenna chuckled. “In fairness, most of us here didn’t know how to say the prayers.”
Sam, Jenna, and I smiled at each other. We had a long-standing private joke about how a Catholic university had managed to bring the three of us together—two fallen Protestants and a non-practicing-Jew. The university’s efforts to diversify their student body had succeeded.
“Frida studied social work, right?” Sam looked at Charlotte.
Charlotte nodded. “Uh-huh.”
“Do you ever hear anything from her?” I asked, vaguely recalling a similar conversation we’d had about Frida the last time we’d gotten together.
Charlotte shook her head. “Not really. We met for dinner a few times after graduation. But after Oliver was born, it was hard to find the time.”
I released my breath, relieved we’d all lost touch with Frida, even if she had turned her life around.
Charlotte gripped her glass. “We’re still Facebook friends, but she doesn’t post much anymore.”
Kaitlyn’s face brightened. “I saw your post yesterday, Charlotte. About the five of us finally getting together on Crooked Lake to celebrate turning forty. We should take a group photo tomorrow and add it to your post.”
“Okay. Good idea.”
Jenna raised her finger. “Let’s be sure not to include the cabin in the background. We don’t want people to think we’ve failed at life.”
I lowered my head and giggled. Jenna’s sense of humor still killed me.
“I can’t stand Facebook,” Sam said. “I canceled my account last year. We should definitely take a group photo, though.”
Jenna slid back a pink fabric headband that had replaced the show-stopping one she’d been wearing earlier. “How’d you get off Facebook, Sam? I’m jealous.”
“No, kidding,�
�� Kaitlyn said with a frown. “I hate social media. I have to use it for my charity stuff, though.”
“I have to use it to find bad dates,” Jenna said, and everyone laughed again.
Kaitlyn flipped to the next page in the album, where we continued ridiculing our former fashion choices.
Jenna pointed at a photo, smiling. “Remember Charlotte’s morbid phase?”
“Oh, yeah!” I studied photos of Charlotte, wearing all-black and chunky combat boots. Kohl eyeliner rimmed her eyes. In one photo, she even wore black lipstick and a black knit cap.
Charlotte shrugged. “I thought I was cool. Anyway, don’t be so quick to judge. I remember your hippie phase, Sam.”
Sam shook her head. “I don’t.”
Jenna threw her chin in the air. “Yeah. Too much weed from Johnny Franklin.”
We howled with laughter, my insides aching from not being able to catch my breath.
Sam scooched forward and smirked. “Charlotte, tell me the truth. Did you have a thing for Johnny? Remember how you were always so flirty with him?”
“Wasn’t Charlotte flirty with everyone’s boyfriends?” Jenna raised an eyebrow.
A giggle slipped from my mouth, but my hands balled into fists under the table as I remembered how Charlotte used to flutter around any new boy who showed the slightest interest, especially those in relationships. She’d been so desperate for male attention, always scanning her surroundings for anyone who would talk to her, wearing spandex shirts and too much makeup to class. I didn’t judge her for those things anymore. We’d all done stupid things back then. The sight of Frida in the photo had reminded me of that.
Charlotte’s cheeks reddened as she forced a smile. “What can I say? I was insecure.”
“I’m only messing with you,” Jenna said.
