by Ann Aguirre
I’d make a fool of myself with anyone else.
“Eyes shut,” he breathed in my ear.
I closed them and turned my face up. A trill of pleasure radiated wherever he touched me. Then Kian brushed his lips against mine, and the world stopped.
For this moment, I only knew his heat, his heartbeat. His mouth tasted sweet and lush, like chai tea and cinnamon, and I rose up against him on my tiptoes to sink my hands into his layered hair. This wasn’t a perfunctory kiss—no, it was so much more. He caught me against him, and I lost track everything but Kian. His hands burned through the thin cotton of my tee, roaming my back. For someone who had never been kissed, this was like learning to swim by being thrown off a boat into the ocean.
I couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe. His nearness reacted on me like a drug, and I clung, wanting only more. Forever, more. Eventually, I registered the hooting behind us in the quad. Fierce heat flashed into my cheeks as I pulled back.
“Something to remember me by.” His tone carried a low and lovely ache, as if those moments meant something to him, as if he worried about me forgetting him.
Like that could ever happen.
“I’ll see you in six weeks.”
“Okay. What time?”
“Let’s say eight, West Coast time.”
I nodded. “Thanks for everything.”
His jade gaze swept me from head to toe, as if committing me to memory. Then he stepped back. The leafy foliage hid his vanishing act, but the air crackled after he went, like charged wind after a storm.
I ached for him already.
A STITCH IN TIME
Going forward, I’d control everything this summer, taking charge of my life just like I had by asking Kian for my first kiss. That resolve made me feel better about being thrown into a college credit program with minimal preparation.
You can do this.
As I strolled toward the red-and-white registration banner, a girl fell into step beside me. She seemed … nervous, gnawing at her lip with oversize front teeth. Her mouth was chapped; her hair was dull and needed trimming. And before this morning, she would’ve considered herself too cool to be seen with me. At least that was my experience; even loners and outcasts preferred not to risk my social contagion because hanging out with me wasn’t worth the potential grief from the Teflon crew. But maybe my Blackbriar experience wouldn’t repeat here; there was no way this girl could know I had been a pariah.
“Was that your boyfriend?” she ventured, as if I might slap her for speaking to me.
At Blackbriar, this would be a nonstarter, a definite faux pas. People who looked like me did not hang out with those who looked like her. But here at the science program, that didn’t matter—and I would never crush someone like they had me.
“Nah. Just a guy.” That seemed like the kind of thing the new Edie would say.
One who saved my life.
Who liked me before.
“Really?”
“We haven’t known each other that long.” Surprising and true.
The other girl’s eyes widened at that revelation. “But you were kissing.”
Somehow I managed a shrug. “I was curious.”
My companion didn’t know what to say to that, clearly. “Wow.”
“Are you part of the science program?” I figured it was better to change the subject because there were so few things I could reasonably say about Kian. Hell, I didn’t even know his last name.
“Yeah. I guess you go to school here?”
I shook my head. “I’m heading over to registration myself.”
“I never would’ve guessed.” She wore a near-comical expression of disbelief, and if I’d been born with this version of my face, along with my brain, I’d find her incredulity offensive. It must suck for smart, pretty girls not to be taken seriously.
“Why?” I dared her to say it out loud.
“Y-you just don’t look like the type,” she stammered.
Sympathy washed over me. Hours before, I’d been living this girl’s life. Worse, most likely. “Yeah, well. Looks can be deceiving. I’m Edie.”
Belatedly, I realized I hadn’t stuttered once. Apparently the behavioral psychologist had been right; I had a psychogenic stutter, exacerbated by stress, mental anguish, and anxiety. Right then, I felt no fear of ridicule, and it was easy to talk.
“Viola. Vi,” she amended quickly.
I guessed she didn’t want to be known here as the girl whose parents named her after the cross-dresser in Twelfth Night. She’d probably be surprised I knew that. I’d seen every film version ever produced, though, including the one with Amanda Bynes and Channing Tatum. That was the last movie of hers I loved.
“Did you come a long way?” I asked.
“I’m from Ohio, so yeah.” She went on, “It’s cool that I met someone nice my first day. I was a little worried about coming by myself. None of my friends got in.”
At least you have some, I thought.
I got in line behind a guy who couldn’t stop playing with his smartphone. Everyone at Blackbriar had them, but my cell was cheap and primitive, just so I could text my parents. Though they never said so, they couldn’t see the point of buying me an expensive phone when I had nobody else to call.
Vi stood behind me, fidgeting until I turned around, aiming a look at her. She flushed. “Sorry. I’m just nervous about meeting so many new people.”
“Me too.” I just wasn’t showing it at the moment.
“Really? You seem so confident.”
Because I’d never see her after this summer, I could be honest. “It’s a front.”
The line moved pretty fast. There were five people helping out, and they’d divided up the alphabet. I went over to the guy in charge of the Ks, beckoning Viola to follow me. He was probably a volunteer from the university. His brown hair held a red tinge, and he had a million freckles.
“Name?” he asked.
“Edie Kramer.” There was no way Kian would’ve registered me under a name I hated.
He drew his finger down the list. “Ah, here you are. Wow, you’re lucky.”
“I am?”
“Yep, you slid right in under the wire. We had a last-minute cancellation.”
“What happened to free me up a slot?” An icy chill suffused my skin.
I wondered if Kian had done something to the person whose place I’d taken. Though he’d promised he wouldn’t make my life worse, he’d said nothing about anyone else. “The Monkey’s Paw” flickered in my mind, troubling me. Every too-good-to-be-true situation had a dark side, so I needed to figure out what the catch was—and fast.
“Dunno.”
“Really? There’s no note in my file?” I tried a smile, feeling like a dipshit. My stomach twisted into a knot. In the past, I’d never have tried to charm my way into anything; my personal charisma wouldn’t have filled a thimble.
He hesitated, then flipped a few pages. “Looks like he was in an accident, broke his leg or something. When he cancelled, they pulled you off the waiting list.”
“Some people have all the luck,” Vi said.
I didn’t before. “Thanks for telling me.”
“No problem. So here’s your registration packet and your dorm keys. You’ll need the first for the front door of your residence hall and the other for the room. Room assignment is in the small white envelope. You also need to check in with your RA before the end of the day. She’ll go over rules and curfew.”
“I was wondering if I could room with my friend, Vi,” I said, trying the persuasive smile for a second time.
Life can’t be this easy for the beautiful people.
“The rooms are already assigned,” he said.
A rule that I can’t get around? The old me would’ve accepted his reply, but if I wanted to be accepted by the Teflon crew, I had to assimilate. So I imagined what Brittany or Allison would do. To have any hope of beating them, first I had to master their weapons of mass destruction.
&n
bsp; So I made eye contact, opened mine a little wider, and leaned forward. “But I didn’t know Vi was going to be here until just now.” Totally true, as we’d just met. “Please, can’t you make an exception?”
He weakened visibly. “Let me check the master lists. If your roommates haven’t arrived yet, I can swap the names. No harm done.”
“Fingers crossed,” I whispered to Vi, who seemed astonished and pleased.
A few minutes later, he came back with Vi’s packet as well. “They aren’t here yet, so they can room together when they arrive.”
“Too cool,” I said. “Thanks.”
As triumph washed over me, I also felt like I needed a shower. Do those girls have no souls? I didn’t know if I could do this for long, but it seemed to be second nature for them. They considered their ability to control other people an accessory, like a great purse or a cute pair of shoes.
Vi took her envelope as I headed across the quad. “I can’t believe that worked!”
“I wasn’t sure it would.” Especially since I had no experience with manipulation. But I’d watched it happen often enough. Mimicry wasn’t tough, apparently.
“This rocks. We’re on the fourth floor, it looks like.”
“Let’s go meet the RA and get that over with.”
“Sounds good.”
I crossed the quad, which was all green grass and stately trees, to a tall brick building. Two sets of double doors led into what reminded me of a hostel lobby with a rudimentary front desk and a few grubby chairs. A college girl worked behind the counter, answering questions and explaining how the mail situation worked. From there, I ran up four flights, curious how my new body would respond. It didn’t leave me short of breath at all, which meant I’d have to work out to keep fit, and I was curious if I’d enjoy doing so, starting from this baseline instead of where I was before.
Our RA was all of twenty-one, curly blond hair, good teeth. She looked like a surfer girl, and she seemed laid back, which boded well. Her idea of going over the rules involved handing us a printout. She ended her short spiel with a grin. “If you do decide to break the rules, be smart. Don’t let me catch you.” At Vi’s expression, her smile widened. “Hey, I was sixteen not long ago. I’m not going to pretend I don’t remember what it was like.”
On the way to the room, Vi bounced with excitement. “This is the most unleashed I’ve ever been. My parents…” She shook her head, words failing her in relation to their strictness. “This will be the best summer ever.”
“I hope so.”
I unlocked our door and found a simple, Z-shaped space, which gave privacy to each bed. In the middle, there was a double desk, and opposite, we had a dual dresser with drawers on each side. Across from my bunk, I had a closet, and behind the door, we had a sink for washing up. Otherwise, that was it. The walls were cement block and had been painted light blue; the floor was industrial tile, white-speckled with a few interesting stains. I dropped my backpack on the single bed, drawing Vi’s attention.
“Is that all you brought?” she asked.
Nodding, I dug out the Visa gift card from the front compartment. “My parents thought it’d be fun for me to get stuff here, kind of a belated birthday present.”
“Oh my God, that’s the coolest thing ever. Your parents are nothing like mine.”
I bet they’re just like yours. But it was such a white lie; what could it hurt? Easier than explaining a hot guy who saved my life had given me $500 to spend on whatever I wanted. I pulled out my laptop and plugged it into the university Internet. A few minutes later, I had directions to the nearest mall.
“You wanna come?”
“Shopping?” She glanced at her baggy jeans and wrinkled her nose. “That’s not really my thing.”
“We can find a bookstore and a Best Buy, too.”
I knew this girl. I’d been her this morning. The old Edie never went clothes shopping voluntarily. She let her mother buy things and stick them in her room. She wore whatever she found and tried not to think about how she looked. She avoided mirrors and kept her hair so long, it fell into her face. When she walked down the street, she watched her feet, so she didn’t see scorn flicker in other people’s faces as their eyes slid away. That Edie died on the bridge. I had the freedom to be someone else now, anyone I wanted. The sensation was brilliant but terrifying. If I got it wrong, I had nobody to blame but myself.
“When you put it that way,” Vi said, grinning.
“Cool. There’s a mixer tonight at eight. We’ll be back before then.”
Her smile faded. “I don’t know if I’m gonna go. I’m not here to socialize.”
“That’s your parents talking. We’re here to learn, but we can have fun, too. That’s why I came.” That played better than the real explanation, which no sane person would believe.
Vi shot me a knowing look. “But not the reason you gave at home, I bet.”
“Hell, no. You have to know how to manage the parental units. As long as you can work up a rationale consistent with their internal motivations, you’re good to go.”
“I’m gonna learn so much from you.”
“Maybe.” With a half shrug, I headed for the door.
The mall I’d found was located downtown, kind of a revitalized ultra-chic place with small boutiques, lots of flowers and Spanish-style courtyards. There were staple department stores, of course, like Macy’s and Nordstrom, but I wouldn’t be shopping there. Instead I’d hit smaller, lower-priced places. It shouldn’t cost too much for jeans and T-shirts. At this point, I wasn’t sure enough of my fashion sense to go much beyond those parameters. Deep down, I wished Kian hadn’t refused to come with me. He had great taste, cool and elegant, and I’d bet he could dress me perfectly. Maybe that was why he didn’t want to do it, though. He’d already made me beautiful. Anything more might make him feel proprietary, give him a disquieting sense of ownership. I probably shouldn’t have asked him to kiss me.
I wasn’t sorry I had.
Vi made a noncommittal shopping buddy. She had no opinions on anything I tried on, but I caught a wistful light in her eyes, once or twice. I wanted to tell her how well I understood, but nobody wanted a new acquaintance prying into their personal business. I wouldn’t make it better by saying I’d been a “before” picture, too. So I kept a light commentary running on what I intended to buy.
By the end of the spree, I spent four hundred bucks on clothes and cosmetics, forty on a small suitcase to hold it all. I also had the cash my dad had given me, which left me just under a hundred for the rest of the summer. That should be good for random entertainments. From the curriculum, I saw we’d be busy doing telescopic observation of various constellations anyway, so it wasn’t like I’d be out on the town every night.
Vi and I ate a quick meal at the food court, and then I kept my promise to locate the nearest bookstore. In the stacks, I browsed for an hour, but I only bought one book: The Intelligent Negotiator: What to Say, What to Do, How to Get What You Want—Every Time. The purchase set the seal on my intentions. This summer would be my proving ground.
My new roommate bought a handful of science fiction and fantasy titles. I’d read all of them but one. I touched the second book in her stack. “That one’s the best.”
“I’ll read it first.”
Since it was after seven by then, we headed back to campus. Vi fell quiet as we approached the dorm; I could tell she’d rather avoid the mixer altogether. It was a wonder she’d gotten up the nerve to speak to me earlier. But then, I totally understood how one new person felt less intimidating than a roomful of strangers. My stomach churned over the prospect too, but I’d master my fear like a differential equation.
In our room, I didn’t change clothes. I brushed my hair and teeth, put on some makeup like the girl in the store had explained. Not a lot. I wasn’t confident enough to try advanced tricks, and fortunately, the face Kian had given me didn’t require it. Your face, a small voice reminded me.
“Ready?” I
asked.
She put down her book with a soft sigh. “Not really. But I guess I should go for a while. If it’s awful, I can come back up and read.”
“Come on, it’ll be fun.”
On the third floor, the gathering was already in full swing. Some kids looked geeky; others seemed normal. A few were hot. I skimmed the crowd and saw how it had broken down. Techies were comparing toys. Stargazers stood by the windows. A few math types scribbled on napkins. Music played in the background, soft and inoffensive, and the organizers had laid out various canned drinks and cookies. Not much of a spread, but the point was for enrollees to make first contact.
Before I could make up my mind where to enter the mix, a Japanese boy with a shock of black, blond-tipped spiky hair came up to me. He pointed at my shirt. “Are you really?”
I cocked a brow, waiting, trying to look mysterious, because I had no idea what my tee said. I’d just liked the look of it. And how it fit me.
He asked outright, “‘Looking for a Japanese boyfriend’?”
Crap. Is that what it says?
I gave him a half smile, praying I didn’t blush, because I felt like such a dumbass. Did Kian get this as a practical joke?
“Why, are you applying?”
“Maybe.” He flashed a smile that said he was a little more self-assured than most of the guys here. “I’m Ryuuto. But Ryu is fine.”
“I’m Edie. This is Vi.” I stepped sideways so he could see her since she was hiding behind me. She elbowed me to show she didn’t appreciate the attention.
She squeaked out, “Nice to meet you.”
Come on, Vi. You can do better than that.
But Ryu wasn’t paying attention to either of us. He curled his fingers, calling someone else over, a boy with dark blond hair. With his gold, wire-framed glasses, he looked smart … and cute. “This is my roommate, Seth. Seth, Edie and Vi.”
“Trust Ryu to find the girls right off.” Seth had an easy manner, belied by the flicker of his eyes. That was the only cue he gave that he wasn’t totally calm.
“We’re not the only girls here,” I pointed out.
The blond kid grinned. “The ones who’ll talk to us?”
