Or used to.
My mood soured a little as I dropped my things in my room. It wasn’t that I couldn’t say the things I used to, but it didn’t feel the same. They didn’t care as much about the campus or team drama, and my problems next to Shar’s, bringing a literal human into the world, felt petty.
Oh, your body is growing an entirely new body? Well, I had bad period cramps yesterday.Just didn’t hit the way it used to.
I dropped onto the bed, staring at the wall. My favourite painting hung next to the bed, the abstract one with the bleeding maroons and mustard-gold planes and a black line that cut through the middle. It meant one thing when I painted it. Now it looked different every time I stared at it. Today, the black line felt less like a road, more like a crack.
I shifted, and the mattress springs creaked. The whorls of my fingers were still sticky from the clementine. I rubbed them together and the scent rose again, bright and sweet. The calendar pinned to my corkboard stared at me, the white, empty spaces for this weekend yawning wide open.
My parents would be home, no doubt already curating December. My mom planning the cookie plates, my dad drawing diagrams of Christmas lights and pulling all the boxes out from the attic. I could go for the weekend, sit at the kitchen island and chat with my siblings, eat whatever casserole they were having, help with putting up the lights outside even though it was cold as balls.
The thought should’ve been comforting, but instead it pricked. I’d judged my brother for coming home from U of C on weekends. What kind of loser didn’t have anything to do on campus?
“Hey, Crystal? There’s a message for you on the machine!” Jenna called from the living room.
“Who is it?” I was comfy. I wasn’t getting up to listen to some reminder that I had textbook fees due.
“I don’t know, some guy?”
I shot straight up.HadLogan called?Had I checked the messages before I left for the grocery store? I didn’t think there was anything earlier, so the message must have come during or after tonight’s shopping trip.
And if it was Logan, he was quite possibly calling about Norman Marcus.
Chapter
Three
I raced down the hall,slowing before Jenna and Lindsey saw me so I didn’t seem too desperate, then turned down the volume on the machine before pressing play.
The machine beeped. I held my breath.
“Hey, Crystal. It’s Garrett.”
My heart dropped, sinking into what now felt like a toxic sludge inside my middle.
“Tash is hosting a thing Saturday. You should come. We could—uh—catch up.”
I hit stop. The red light stopped blinking, so I didn’t need to check if there were any messages beyond that one.
Heat crawled up my neck. That night sat in my memory like a blurry Polaroid. Too much beer, Garrett heartbroken over Maddie. I’d gone to Tash’s exposition to show support, but hadn’t planned on staying long. And then . . . I don’t know.Kissing him felt nice. Being wanted felt nice. Until I woke up in the morning wearing his sweatshirt. We’d only made out, nothing beyond that, but it was enough to put me on Garrett’s radar.
That was the extent of my dating life over the past year. Two make-out sessions, one with the guy from that Vancouver hockey team at the invitational, and Garrett. Truly an impressive showing.
“You should go,” Jenna sat up on the couch to stretch. “You never go out anymore.” Apparently, I hadn’t turned down the volume enough.
“It’s true,” Lindsey said without looking up. “Your life has been boring since the summer.”
I squinted at them, affection and irritation braided together. “Wow, okay. Because you two are party queens.”
Lindsey sighed. “I’m an econ major. We’re not supposed to have lives. Why be an art major if you can’t have fun? You won’t be making money.”
Mm. Excellent. Roasted by my roommate, who was painting her nails the colour of alien vomit.
I picked up the receiver, the cord cool and coily against my wrist, and dialled the number from the message. The dial tone hissed, then came the quick series of beeps. Garrett answered on the second ring.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Garrett.” My tone felt forced. Hopefully, he couldn’t tell over the phone. “It’s Crystal.”
