“We know it’s not ideal,” Jenny admitted. “But I don’t have a job lined up—thank you, English major—and I can’t afford to stay in Indiana without one, so I’ve got to move back in with my parents until I find something or opt for grad school.”
“You’re not quitting the webcomic, though, right?”
“Of course not,” Jenny said. “Calliopeis our baby. Our weird witch baby.”
“With inconsistent magic use,” Eden said. She said it like a joke, but something in her face seemed to tense as the words came out. It was a flicker of stress I’d seen there before, and it made me uneasy.
Jenny noticed, too. “Hey,” she said, her voice a little softer. “I’m the one who does the writing, remember? If the story has faults, it’s because of me. Not you. My mom had nothing but nice things to say about your illustrations.”
“I know. I’m fine.” She took another drink.
I was about to ask another question, try and change the subject, when a shadow passed over us. A large figure had stepped in front of the couch, specifically in front of Eden. I was so startled that I pushed back, pressing into the cushions. But Eden just looked up at him slowly; her eyes had a weary look to them that no one her age should ever have.
“You’re that chick, right?” the guy standing in front of her said. “The anti-gun chick.”
Jenny cut in before Eden could answer. “Back up, dude.”
The guy ignored her. He was tall, dressed in a red T-shirt and jeans, with a baseball cap perched on his head. He had the wispy beginnings of a goatee, though it did nothing to mask the fact that he had a baby face. “So what? You just don’t give a damn about the Constitution? The Second Amendment?” he asked.
“Oh my God,” Jenny said, rolling her eyes. “Seriously, leave us alone. Go home and write some angry tweets or something.”
“Stay out of it,” the guy told Jenny. “We’re talking here.” He gestured to Eden, though she clearly wasn’t doing any talking at all.
I wrapped my arms around myself and huddled as far into the corner of the couch as I could, already picking out the exits in my head. This guy was standing too close, his voice was too harsh. My brain was screaming,Threat! Threat!
I started imagining what it would be like to die right here. Would the whole world just be swallowed in black? Would it feel like sleeping? What would happen to my mom when she found out? Or Miles? Did it really matter since they were going to die one day, too?
Chill, I told myself.It’s fine. You’re fine. You’re not going to die at a house party. You can be an anxious nihilist later.
I made myself look over at Eden, but I immediately regretted it. I’d expected her to snap back at this guy. To retort with all the facts and statistics I’d seen her use in her presentations. To be the stronger Eden, the girl she was onstage. But that’s not what I saw.
She was curled in on herself much the same way I was, her head bent, her hands shaking. Shriveled. Scared. Sad.
“Do you have any clue how ignorant you sound when you give those speeches? You think taking away our guns is the answer?”
“She never said anything about taking away your guns,” Jenny growled. “She advocates for harsher restrictions and for campus safety measures.”
“Except her version of keeping campuses safe is no guns at all, even for those of us with permits,” the guy said, giving in to the fact that Jenny wasn’t going to stay out of this. “Which is stupid. I know what she went through at her high school. And if one teacher had had a gun in their desk, they could’ve stopped that kid.”
“Are you kidding me?”
Eden stood up then. It was so abrupt that I jumped and the guy in front of us stumbled back a step in surprise.
“Yeah. You know what I went through.” Her voice was so quiet I almost didn’t hear it over the music and party chatter around us. “You know,” she said, the words cracking in a way that told me she was on the verge of tears, “what it’s like to open your eyes and see that everyone in your classroom is dead.”
“They wouldn’t be, though,” the guy insisted, “if that teacher had been armed.”
“Sure.” Eden stepped past him and began walking toward the kitchen.
“Eden,” Jenny called.
Eden glanced over her shoulder. “I’m just going to find Antonio. Tell him I showed up. I’ll … I’ll be back.”
Jenny watched her go, and I could see that there was more than a hint of worry in her eyes.
Meanwhile, the gun guy turned to me. “So who are you?” he asked. “You anti-Constitution, too?”
Jenny responded before I could answer. “She’s my cousin, and she’s not involved in any of this, so leave her alone.”
