《Breviary》 Chapter One On my knees, a hand pulls my hair to tug my head back, making space for a lone fingernail to drag gently down the soft skin of my neck. I shiver and a whimper escapes, but I don¡¯t dare to move. I don¡¯t want to move. I want those nails to dig into my neck, stealing my breath as they drag me to my feet. I want my head to spin as I¡¯m slammed against the wall. I want to scream as teeth sink into me. I want to feel my blood run hot down my chest as I give everything away. As I gain everything back.
Are you understanding me now? Good. I can start at the beginning. Maria was my best friend. We were good girls, plain and simple. Catholic Schoolers who believed in it. Altar servers, youth group staples, Weekly Mass attendees ¨C minimum. We were confirmed at the same Mass when we were sixteen and it was afterwards ¨C Now Maria St. Therese and Violet St. Joan ¨C she told me her plans. ¡°I¡¯m going into a convent.¡± ¡°A convent? Like, the Franciscans at school?¡± A few nuns still taught at our school. A great to-do was made of it whenever one retired, but they were never replaced by another nun. ¡°No. Carmelites.¡± My stomach twisted. ¡°A Cloister?¡± ¡°You make it sound like I¡¯m dying,¡± She laughed. ¡°I¡¯m not, you know, I think I might finally be ready to live. Come on, Violet, you know I¡¯m not meant for¡­the world.¡± ¡°Well, no one is¡ª¡± ¡°¡ªyou know what I mean.¡± I couldn¡¯t argue because I did. Maria had never fit in. Nothing about her seemed to align no matter where we went. Even between the two of us, even knowing we¡¯d never felt closer to anyone else, I would look at her sometimes, see the way the light shone anxiously in her dark, round eyes, or catch the way her fingers trailed along the sides of walls or twisted a leaf absently picked from a tree. I would see her stare off and know she was waiting. Deep down, she was waiting for something to come and get her. And she thought that the thing waiting for her was becoming a shut in. For Jesus. If I had understood her then, would she have stayed? Would she have realized there was somewhere else she could belong besides that place? I don¡¯t know. But I didn¡¯t understand. So, she left. I suppose I did too. Off to college. I¡¯m so cold now. It burns. I¡¯m hungry.
¡°You¡¯re back!¡± I all but jump on Andrew, letting him catch me up in a tight hug, my face pressed to his shoulder. He laughs and I laugh and pull him into the apartment. ¡°You brought flowers?¡± ¡°I did,¡± he says and hands me the beautiful blue and white bouquet. ¡°And from the smell of it, you¡¯ve been baking?¡± ¡°Maybe a little selfishly too ¨C lets me avoid studying. But I did make the ginger cookies you love so, there is that.¡± ¡°Selfish ¨C as if you ever could be.¡± ¡°Flatterer.¡± I hug him again, catching a kiss too. I met Andrew freshman year. Don¡¯t worry, we don¡¯t go to a ¡°ring by spring¡± kind of college. We didn¡¯t even decide to start dating until we came back for sophomore year. The fact we saw each other so much over that first summer despite the five-hour drive really drove home for us both that we wanted this. And now here we are, three months from graduation. ¡°So, how was the retreat?¡± I ask, letting go to get the flowers in water. ¡°It was good. You know, just, really good.¡± I look back to see him smiling at me. I can tell he feels amazing. ¡°Really connected with God out there, huh?¡± ¡°Honestly? Yeah. I did. Had some good conversations too. Mostly with one of the priests but you know, I guess I just have a lot to think about?¡± ¡°Well want to pick it apart over dinner?¡± I offer, coming close again. He wraps his arms around me, and I relax against him. He¡¯s hardly got an inch on me but that makes it perfect for resting my head on his shoulder. ¡°I missed you,¡± I say. He hugs me a little tighter. ¡°I¡¯m back now¡­.and yes. I¡¯d love to do dinner ¨C I¡¯m starved. Come on, let¡¯s go out! My treat!¡± ¡°Oh! Okay, sure! Hold on, two minutes left on the cookies and then I need to get my hair up ¨C ah! Andrew! You spring things on me!¡± I laugh and he laughs and for a moment I feel like maybe I really could live this way forever. I could¡¯ve lived that way forever. I want him forever.
We¡¯re sitting on the couch when we get back after dinner. Frankly, I¡¯m surprised he stayed. ¡°So, I¡¯ve put in an application for a summer position ¨C contingent on my graduation. Up north,¡± I say. ¡°Just for the summer, right?¡± ¡°Of course!¡± I wrap his arms a little tighter around me. ¡°Just¡­I mean, I need something, don¡¯t I?¡± ¡°I thought you were looking around here.¡± ¡°I am, but there¡¯s not a lot for conservation or ecology. Not that¡¯s hiring. Like, there¡¯s the urban wildlife center, but they don¡¯t have anything posted.¡± ¡°Maybe teaching?¡± He suggested. ¡°I don¡¯t know, maybe.¡± I shrug in his arms, staring at the plant in the window, letting my eyes twist down it¡¯s twisting vines. They remind me of rope. Maria would get these little fixations that came and went. Knots had been one. She convinced me to practice them with her. She tied my wrists together with a knot that was supposed to be easy to pull out. It wasn¡¯t. I sat there, doing my best to keep still as she carefully sawed through the rope with her father¡¯s pocketknife, the sawing motion making the rope tug on my skin, the coldness of the blade seeming to radiate into my wrists as it slowly sawed past. You¡¯d expect her brow to be furrowed in concentration, or a flurry of panic or apologies. But she was so perfectly calm as she held my arms still and did her work freeing me. ¡°Violet? You still with me, hon?¡± I startle back to the present. ¡°Sorry, lost in thought,¡± I admit. ¡°No worries. I get you¡¯re going through a lot. But hey, you¡¯ll figure it out.¡± He gives me a little squeeze and I lean my head back to smile at him. I snuggle a little closer. I need to find a job for after graduation. I need to find a job around here. Andrew already has a job lined up in IT. not to mention his family is nearby.Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators! The plan is so straightforward. I work for a while. We get engaged. My job pays for the wedding, his job pays for us living. Proof of concept. Proof that I can stay home once we have a home together. ¡°Hey, are you alright? Seriously?¡± ¡°Yes! Just¡­just kind of worried. You know?¡± ¡°I know. And you really will figure it out. I know you. You will find something.¡± He puts a finger under my chin and brushes my hair from his face. I twist about to lean up and kiss him, letting him pull me to his chest and hold me close. He¡¯s so warm under me. His heart is beating so hard- I can feel it as my fingers curl in his shirt. I dare a gentle nip at his lip, and he sighs. Something deep in me wants to tug on that lip, to pull more than a sigh out of him. To twist his shirt in my hands until it rips. I pull away and sit up, and he lets me. ¡°Saving space for Jesus there, Vi?¡± He laughs and I laugh and smack him with the throw pillow. I ignore the feeling in my chest that I could have more if I just reached out and touched his hair. I¡¯m gentle but what if I wrapped my fingers tightly around it and tugged? What if he let me pull him down? Jeez, first thinking of Maria of all people, then thinking like this? I must be ovulating. Whatever, confession tomorrow morning, fresh start before classes. We both look to the door when there¡¯s a knock. I don¡¯t have a roommate, I didn¡¯t order anything, and a Sunday night feels like a weird time for Jehovah¡¯s witnesses. Andrew raises an eyebrow. I shrug and I get up and open the door. And there she is. ¡°Maria.¡± I can barely whisper it. I should be surprised, or shocked, or confused, but I¡¯m looking into those familiar dark eyes, and I feel¡­. I feel. ¡°Then fucking go! Ditch everything! Because That¡¯s what God wants, right? For brilliant, amazing young women to basically stop existing! How the hell can you think this is God¡¯s plan?¡± ¡°Hello, Violet.¡± ¡°He forgives you.¡± ¡°You¡¯re here.¡± ¡°Just go. Leave me alone Maria. Go to your stupid fucking convent and pretend the world doesn¡¯t exist. Pretend I don¡¯t exist.¡± ¡°I¡¯m here. Hello.¡± ¡°God bless you. Goodbye.¡± ¡°Do you want to come in?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°Then¡­come in?¡± I move out of the way. Am I asleep? As soon as she looks away the feelings all rush in, and I feel tears in my eyes. ¡°How on¡­Why are you here?¡± ¡°That is very complicated¡­may we talk?¡± she turns back to look at me, a gentle spin in the long black skirt she¡¯s wearing swishes around her ankles. Her hair is too choppy and short. She looks thin. She looks pale ¨C is she sick? Her big dark eyes are on me again and I feel like it might kill me to look away. ¡°Vi? Babe who is it?¡± Andrew comes in and she looks at him. He furrows his brow. I startle back to myself and step next to him, grabbing his arm. Am I clinging? Am I shaking? Oh Lord, does she hate me? Do I care if she does? I shouldn¡¯t have tried to convince her to stay all those years ago. Or maybe I should have tried harder. ¡°Uh Andrew, this is my friend Maria. Maria, this is my boyfriend Andrew.¡± ¡°I see. Hello, Andrew.¡± ¡°Uh, hey? Good to meet you?¡± ¡°Likewise.¡± She sets down her suitcase ¨C when did she get that? ¨C and steps over and shakes his hand. She¡¯s wearing gloves. Nice leather gloves and look like that fit close to her hands. They¡¯re classy. Hardly something a nun would own though. ¡°Look, I¡¯m, Hey! So, this is¡­okay. So, Andrew, Maria has been¡­. gone and I wasn¡¯t expecting her ¨C But I¡¯m glad you¡¯re here! Really! It¡¯ll be good to uh¡­yeah. Catch up?¡± ¡°¡­Hey babe, do you want me to stay?¡± Andrew murmurs to me. ¡°Because if you two need a minute¡­¡± ¡°You can stay, Andrew. It¡¯s fine.¡± Maria answers. Still can¡¯t read a room then. ¡°Violet¡­I know there¡¯s a lot to say but for right now, I need your help.¡± ¡°My help?¡± ¡°¡­I left. The convent.¡± ¡°Oh! You¡¯re the nun!¡± I¡¯d mentioned her to Andrew, about having a close friend become a nun. About how it hurt me. It was a hard conversation. It was difficult to admit that to him, that something I should have supported I just¡­didn¡¯t. I didn¡¯t mention to him that I¡¯m still not sure if I forgive her for abandoning me. At least she never will again. ¡°I might not be anymore¡­Violet, I need help. I was struggling there and¡­I think you might be right.¡± ¡°About what?¡± ¡°Everything¡­I need some time away to sort things out and¡­well when it became clear I needed to go there was only one person I could imagine going to.¡± She smiles a closed lip smile. It looks strained on her face. She used to smile with all her teeth, her eyes scrunching up to almost nothing and her nose wrinkling. I told her once her smile could light candles. She said mine could steal the breath away from a whole room. Andrew says it¡¯s pretty. ¡°I can contribute. Pay rent and help around the home. I just need somewhere safe to be for a while. Am I making sense?¡± ¡°Maria, if you want to be here, of course you can I just¡­are you alright?¡± ¡°Yes¡­the situation is¡­complicated¡­I¡¯m not ready to talk.¡± ¡°Did you do get kicked out?¡± Andrew asks. ¡°Andrew!¡± I pull away from him. ¡°Well, I mean! It¡¯s different, isn¡¯t it? Living with someone who made a vocational mistake versus someone who did something¡­. wrong¡­.¡± He trails off when he sees the tears in my eyes. This is all so much. God, grant me strength. Please. Please please please Oh god please.
I hardly know how we end up back on the couch, sitting next to each other, not touching. Maria is settling into the spare bedroom. ¡°So, you feel okay about her being here?¡± Andrew asks. ¡°Yes? No? I just¡­I mean I think I¡¯ll feel better when she¡¯s ready to talk about it,¡± I say. ¡°Well if she needs help, it¡¯s good to help. And if you need help, call me. Day or night, right?¡± ¡°I¡¯m not in danger. I¡¯m just¡­kinda reeling? That she even wants to see me? I said a lot of stuff I shouldn¡¯t have.¡± ¡°Hey, we all make mistakes.¡± Andrew stands up. ¡°¡­Do you want me to stay? Not the first time I¡¯ll have slept on a couch.¡± ¡°No, No, definitely not.¡± ¡°Slippery slope?¡± ¡°What can I say? I caught a real keeper.¡± He laughs as I tease, and I hope that means he knows my heart isn¡¯t all the way in it. ¡°I love you,¡± he tells me. ¡°I love you too,¡± I tell him. And he¡¯s gone. I¡¯m sitting alone on the couch for a while before I have the wherewithal to stand and head to the spare room, grabbing blankets and pillows along the way. I moved in two years ago. I had a roommate then, a senior I had met at church. She set me up here and told me it was a great deal and boy, was she right. It¡¯s not big, but rent is pretty good and it¡¯s closer to most of campus than some of the actual dorms. But the real selling point? Rent was by person. I wasn¡¯t on the hook for more even if the landlord couldn¡¯t find someone else to rent out to. And for this past year, he hasn¡¯t been able to. The understanding is I won¡¯t touch the spare room but surely for tonight Gary won¡¯t mind. We can figure that part of that out not tonight. I knock and immediately the door swings open and it feels exactly like when I opened the door for her. Even though I knocked I feel accosted somehow by her answering. ¡°Uhm, hey? I have blankets ¨C sorry I don¡¯t have spare sheets, but we can pick some up tomorrow I guess?¡± ¡°Thank you.¡± She moves out of the doorway to let me in before taking a blanket from me. Her gloved fingers brush mine. Is it cold in here? The living room was practically toasty (Andrew runs cold so I give the heat a little kick when he comes over) but in here it feels chilly. Well, it does now. She leans over to spread the blanket on the bed, and I stand there, waiting to be able to hand her the pillow which she takes with a nod, setting it down with a strange grace I realize I don¡¯t recognize. My friend Maria wasn¡¯t graceful. She seemed to be colliding into things with such regularity. Including me. Bumping shoulders, almost pulling me off of logs into the creek, grabbing my hands to try to steady herself on slippery sidewalks in the winter. ¡°You¡¯re my tree,¡± she would laugh. I wonder if nuns teach you to walk like you see debutants do in old movies. She sits down on the bed, and I dare to come closer. She looks up and me and pats the end of the bed. It¡¯s been a long time since we sat together like this. ¡°Thank you for your generosity.¡± She says. ¡°I promise I¡¯m going to pay it back ¨C whatever you need me to do to settle things, I¡¯ll do.¡± ¡°Maria, it¡¯s fine, I promise. Really. Just¡­how are you here?¡± ¡°Mother Superior thought I should step away.¡± ¡°But why?¡± ¡°There¡¯s something out here I need to do. Something I¡¯m meant for. I¡¯m sorry, I can¡¯t explain it beyond that.¡± ¡°Top secret nun stuff?¡± I ask. She smiles that strange new smile again. ¡°If it was, then I could just tell you.¡± ¡°You wouldn¡¯t have to¡ª¡± ¡°¡ªI would want to. I wouldn¡¯t keep secrets from you, Violet.¡± She puts her hand next to my leg. ¡°But the fact is that if I want to go back to that place, I need some time away from it first. I¡¯ve been sent with some means to provide for myself. And when it¡¯s time for me to go back, I will.¡± ¡°You will?¡± It¡¯s not as strong as it was then, but those old feelings start to bubble up. The hurt, the jealousy, the fear. She¡¯s come back just to leave me again. ¡°If that¡¯s what I¡¯m meant to do¡­Violet, I hurt you back then¡­I acted better than you. I didn¡¯t care enough about what my vows would do to you.¡± ¡°Maria, seriously it¡¯s fine ¨C¡± ¡°¡ªNo. It isn¡¯t, is it?¡± I can¡¯t argue with her. Not when she¡¯s right. ¡°So, I¡¯m sorry I hurt you. And I would like if maybe, we can be friends again?¡± ¡°I mean¡­I let you in, didn¡¯t I?¡± ¡°You did. And you don¡¯t know how much that means to me.¡± She picks up her hand and reaches out to touch mine. A gentle squeeze. Leather on my hands. I don¡¯t look because it would mean looking way from her eyes. ¡°I¡­I should¡­get to bed¡­¡± ¡°Yes, you must be tired.¡± ¡°I must be? What about you?¡± ¡°I¡¯ve never been a good sleeper, you know that.¡± ¡°Some things never change, huh?¡± ¡°Some things never change.¡± She pulls her hand back. ¡°Off to it then. I¡¯ll see you in the morning?¡± ¡°Oh, ah, yes! Yeah, of course. Goodnight!¡± I go directly to bed and It¡¯s only when I¡¯m laying in bed, lights off, phone put away, staring at my ceiling that I feel like I¡¯m awake again. Maria is here. My friend Maria is here. My Maria. Oh God, help me to help her. Amen. Chapter Two It¡¯s hard to talk about what happened between Maria and I, but how can I expect to be understood if I don¡¯t? We had all summer together after she told me her plans. And it was miserable. Everything felt like a last time, everything felt like goodbye. And she spent the whole time being so damn excited that it was. I finally snapped. I should¡¯ve said ¡°I¡¯m mad because I¡¯m going to miss you, and I don¡¯t know how to process that.¡± Or ¡°I¡¯ve never had a friend like you and without you I¡¯m going to have to figure out who I am again, and I¡¯m scared.¡± Instead, I went with ¡°You know cloisters only exist to get rid of unwanted women who couldn¡¯t find husbands, right? It¡¯s not like God loves you more because you can¡¯t handle being an adult.¡± So naturally things escalated directly to screaming and we both left crying. Me sobbing like the ugly crier I¡¯ve been my whole life, and her silently weeping. She¡¯s a pretty crier. Balances out I suppose. And now here we are again with me pulling together my backpack and feeling her eyes on me. I made coffee and she¡¯s holding a cup but not really drinking it. Maybe it¡¯s too hot? Maybe she¡¯s not a coffee person anymore? She¡¯s wearing those gloves again. ¡°So, I¡¯ll be back around three. I uh, I¡¯m gonna see if I can get ahold of Gary ¨C that¡¯s my landlord ¨C in between classes and get things settled for you, okay?¡± ¡°I can pay rent.¡± ¡°I know, I know, just gotta figure out if he wants to make it like, a sublet situation or have you sign your own contract or, I don¡¯t know? He¡¯s pretty reasonable, we¡¯ll figure it out. Then uhm, I do have homework to do tonight but I¡¯ll be around.¡± ¡°Will your Andrew be around?¡± My Andrew. I never really thought of him like that. It feels strange to hear. Something about how she says it makes it sound like he¡¯s a pet or possession. But I don¡¯t hate it. And that feels weird. I shake the feeling off, shoving my water bottle in my bag. ¡°No, no, he helps with a youth group at the local parish on Mondays. Holy Assumption. He actually just got back from a retreat for the youth leaders yesterday.¡± ¡°So, he¡¯s Catholic.¡± ¡°Ohhh, yeah. Like, you know how Catholic we were in high school? He¡¯s at least that Catholic. Maybe more.¡± ¡°And what about you?¡± ¡°Oh, yes, of course! Obviously! Not even a question!¡± I sling my bag onto my back. ¡°Sorry, it¡¯d be like me asking you if you¡¯re Catholic!¡± Maria doesn¡¯t answer, just looking at me for a moment. I can¡¯t read her like I used to. I miss it. ¡°Well, I¡¯m glad you found a man who understands you.¡± She sets her mug down and stands. She¡¯s wearing the same outfit as yesterday, just with a sweater rather than her coat. I should ask if she needs clothes. ¡°Be safe.¡± ¡°Thanks? Help yourself to anything in the fridge ¨C see you soon.¡± I say and I¡¯m on my way. First stop is Campus ministry. They do confessions on Monday mornings. Short line, kneel down behind the screen, own up to a few sins, an absolution, three hail marys. Classes. Being a senior has definitely been the strangest year of college. All my classes are for my major in environmental conservation. And I only have four (well, I¡¯d call it three and a half since one is the lab for another, but I digress). The scholarship I bagged for doing an unpaid internship the last two summers and a Christmas break for good measure is paying for everything, so I don¡¯t work. And yet I feel like I¡¯m drowning in shit to get done. Two months left. Then it¡¯s all over. Two morning classes. Lunch, technically with my friend Sophie but we¡¯re both doing readings. Besides, I don¡¯t know what I¡¯d even say to her right now. I can¡¯t talk about Maria yet. But also, how on earth am I supposed to talk about anything else? My phone vibrates. I check it. Oh fuck, Andrew. I didn¡¯t text Andrew back this morning. Good Morning. Hey, I¡¯m just checking in. Did you go to class? Hi!! Yes I did. Sorry, crazy morning lol I¡¯m sure. Are the two of you alright? Yeah we¡¯re good. She¡¯s at the apartment Gonna catch Gary later He responds with a thumbs up. I roll my eyes. ¡°Andrew?¡± Sophie asks. ¡°How¡¯d you guess?¡± I say. ¡°The smiling while also rolling your eyes. Who else but a man could annoy you so endearingly?¡± Sophie points out. ¡°He texts like a dad.¡± ¡°Maybe that¡¯s a green flag?¡±The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. ¡°Yeah, maybe.¡± Got to get back to it. Wanna call when you¡¯re done at youth group tonight? Maybe. I was hoping to talk to Fr. James for a bit. Okay no worries! I love you! I love you too. <3 :)
Gary picks up right away when I call him after my last class. I decide to go with telling him an old friend is looking to move into town and needs to stay somewhere until the summer and wants to rent the room sight unseen. He jumps on it. Like I said, he¡¯d been struggling to find anyone who wanted it so me handing him a new tenant is hardly something to turn his nose up at. We make plans for him to come by the next afternoon to settle paperwork with Maria. ¡°Maria? I¡¯m back¡­¡± the apartment is pitch black. The curtains aren¡¯t good enough for that. I fumble for the light switch. The apartment is spotless. I¡¯m hardly a slob but also it¡¯s not like I¡¯m scrubbing the floors every day. But now they¡¯re reflecting the light. The dishes are more than done; the whole kitchen is stunning. I step in further and see the living room. Was my couch always that shade of gray (concerning)? I remember to take my shoes off before stepping from the linoleum onto the carpet and it¡¯s soft. I can¡¯t even hear my footsteps as I step into the living room and look around, hitting another light switch. Unfamiliar black curtains hang over the windows. There are deep red roses on the (shining, perfectly clean) coffee table. They¡¯re filling the room with a gentle floral scent. It smells like my mom¡¯s funeral. Damn, why does it smell like mom¡¯s funeral? ¡°Violet? Are you alright?¡± I hadn¡¯t heard Maria come down the hall. ¡°Ugh, yeah, fine, my contacts are just dry.¡± I do my best to wipe my face and act alright, but she doesn¡¯t buy it. She knows better. Some things don¡¯t change I suppose. ¡°Violet, did I do something wrong? I tried to freshen stuff up today if I messed with something I shouldn¡¯t have¡ª¡± ¡°¡ªno! are you kidding? The place looks great I just¡­¡± How am I supposed to say this? Telling people at school hurt but wasn¡¯t hard, not really. Not even Andrew. I suppose I didn¡¯t tell Andrew because he was there with me when she went (well, he was in the hallway, trying not to crowd the family). But Maria? Maria knew her. Maria rode in her car, ate her food, laughed at her jokes, and dug holes for her flower garden and cried to her and complained to her and apologized to her and loved her. And mom loved Maria. ¡°It¡¯s like having twins without needing to give birth twice!¡± She¡¯d say about us. She listened when I told her Maria, and I had our big fight, but I could tell I¡¯d hurt her. I caught a glimpse at the last Christmas break we had together while mom was well enough to write Christmas cards of one addressed to Maria, care of her convent. And now I have to tell her she¡¯s gone. I can¡¯t help it; I hug her tightly. She smells just like I remember ¨C like Cedar and Lilly. Can nuns wear perfume? ¡°Mom is gone¡­mom died. I don¡¯t know if anyone would have told you. I¡¯m so sorry.¡± I whisper. ¡°Your father told me. I¡¯m so sorry I wasn¡¯t there for you.¡± She murmurs back. ¡°Are you alright?¡± ¡°The flowers ¨C she had those, at the funeral?¡± ¡°Ah.¡± ¡°I miss her.¡± ¡°I miss her too,¡± Maria says. ¡°¡­There was a purple altar cloth we used during advent that I¡¯d sometimes space out and imagine sewing into a dress for her. A sundress.¡± ¡°Dad kept her big hat. We turned it into a wreath for Easter.¡± Maria sighs. ¡°Oh good. I can¡¯t imagine it¡­it being somewhere besides her home. Except maybe with you.¡± ¡°Oh, she¡¯d get a kick out of that, of me wearing that hat after making fun of it so much.¡± ¡°Funny how you always got a sunburn whenever you made fun of it,¡± Maria comments. I laugh through my tears. ¡°I wish I had seen her again,¡± Maria says. ¡°Hey, no one lives forever, right?¡± ¡°Some people deserve to,¡± she whispers, and I wonder if I was supposed to hear it. She was always good for an odd comment ¨C sometimes quirky or funny, sometimes downright weird ¨C but feels so sincere and so personal, almost intimate. ¡°So!¡± I pull back, wiping my eyes and doing my best to smile. ¡°Landlord¡¯s gonna be by tomorrow, and I¡¯ve got homework. And I¡¯ve got a little extra cash on hand, want to order in? ¡°I got groceries actually.¡± ¡°I was gone like six hours and you shopped and cleaned everything?¡± ¡°Well, I got the groceries delivered.¡± ¡°Oh, that makes more ¨C no wait! Do you have a phone?¡± I ask. Maria shrugs. ¡°They were very¡­pragmatic about my situation. If I¡¯m going to be out in the world for a while, I need a smartphone. It¡¯s not a particularly new one, but it can handle a delivery app.¡± ¡°Yeah, I suppose that makes sense.¡± At least, it made as much sense as her entire situation seemed to make. ¡°So then, I¡¯ll cook. You can study,¡± Maria says and with that turns to the kitchen. I take the moment to watch her go. When did she get so graceful? ¡°If you need help ¨C¡± ¡°¡ªthat depends! Are you done with your homework already? Speedier than you were in high school, aren¡¯t you?¡± My laughing comes out as an indignant squawk, but I do turn to my work. It¡¯s easier than normal. The dark curtains mean the lights are all on and they make the room feel soft and cozy, and with my tears cried, the scent of the roses feels more comforting than anything else. Soon, I can smell dinner cooking and Maria singing old hymns. I hum along when I recognize the tunes. I feel like I¡¯m at home in a way I haven¡¯t been for years. In a way I thought I would never be again. Sure, I have plans and hopes. Goals of starting my own family; making my own, warm, comforting home. But being given it all instead of being the crafter of it is different. And for a few hours, it¡¯s exactly what I want. I¡¯ll always cherish the times I could still feel warm.
Maria makes soup with large dense dumplings that float along the top. It¡¯s packed with vegetables and is so incredibly filling. ¡°Please tell me there¡¯s leftovers,¡± I say to her. ¡°At least enough for your lunch tomorrow,¡± she replies. ¡°And yours!¡± I put my empty bowl down on the coffee table. I don¡¯t have a regular table ¨C I don¡¯t have a place to put one. Again, the pros of this apartment are very strong. ¡°I¡¯m not used to eating lunch much anymore.¡± Maria shrugs as she stands and clears away the bowls. ¡°Wait, why not? Do nuns not eat lunch?¡± I ask, following her. ¡°Not most of us. We ate well at other times,¡± Maria explains. I take the bowls and start washing up. ¡°Well, as long as you¡¯re getting enough ¨C you didn¡¯t eat much tonight and I just¡­you got enough, right?¡± ¡°I¡¯m fine, Violet. I¡¯ve had enough soup,¡± Maria says. ¡°As long as you¡¯re sure.¡± ¡°I¡¯m sure.¡± She smiles that thin, closed lipped smile and I decide to let it go. She¡¯s a grown person, after all. She can take care of herself. And me besides. ¡°I¡¯m probably going to try to finish up my paper then call it for the night ¨C are you going to be up much yet?¡± ¡°Most likely. I frequently had things to do in the evenings at the convent so I¡¯m used to being up very late.¡± ¡°Fair enough.¡± I turn off the water and dry my hands. ¡°Thanks again for dinner, Maria. That was amazing.¡± ¡°I¡¯m happy to do it again. Whenever you¡¯d like.¡± ¡°Oh, don¡¯t say that I¡¯ll ask every night.¡± I laugh. Maria laughs with me but then puts a gloved hand on my arm and my gaze goes from that dark glove up her arm and finally to her eyes and it becomes impossible to look away. Can eyes be so dark you can¡¯t see a reflection in them? Looking at her feels like being outside on a warm summer night, every star is visible, and you know you are miniscule in the universe, and you shiver but not from the cold. ¡°Then I¡¯ll make dinner every night,¡± Maria murmurs and then looks away and walks out of the kitchen. I shake my head ¨C what was I thinking about? The stars? I must be tired. Hopefully, I can make it through this paper. I don¡¯t remember falling asleep the first time but I wake up in the middle of the night with my stuff strewn across my bed. I take a moment to shove it all onto the side table and turn off my lamp. As I do I see¡­something move across my window. But sleep wins out before I can figure out if it was just a shadow or something more. Chapter Three Within the week we have a sort of routine. I don¡¯t tend to see Maria in the mornings before I leave for class, but she¡¯s about when I come back. Sometimes she¡¯s reading, or journalling, or cleaning, but she¡¯s always about in the apartment, almost like she¡¯s waiting for me. I have to admit, I like coming home to a not empty place. Is this what being married will be like? And then comes Saturday. Andrew hasn¡¯t been over all week. Not the strangest thing ¨C I¡¯ve seen him during the days and Wednesday night we had dinner at his place. I was a bit late ¨C I don¡¯t know what happened. I was speaking with Maria, telling her about our plan for the evening and then I was looking at her and suddenly it was later. That¡¯s happened a few times now. I¡¯m wondering if I¡¯m not sleeping well. I have been startling awake most nights this week. I keep thinking something is moving in the room. I mention it to Andrew when we meet up for lunch on Friday. ¡°Want me to pick you up some melatonin?¡± he offers. ¡°Thanks, but I think I¡¯m just gonna use the weekend to sleep in and see if that¡¯s enough first.¡± ¡°A Saturday evening Mass kinda weekend?¡± ¡°Exactly.¡± ¡°Sounds good ¨C I¡¯ll pick you up by four-thirty¡­.is Maria going to come too?¡± ¡°I mean, maybe? I still haven¡¯t really gotten out of her where she stands with the Church¡­I think she¡¯ll talk when she¡¯s ready. Until then all I can do is pray and be around for her, right?¡± Andrew reaches over to give my hand a squeeze, simply beaming at me. ¡°You are genuinely the most caring human I know.¡± ¡°Andy, come on.¡± ¡°I¡¯m serious, Vi. You are so giving. I love that about you.¡± He brushes my hair from my face, and I smile, leaning into his touch. I wonder how it might feel if those strong, gentle hands ¨C hands that play guitar and write me proper paper letters and read a thousand books ¨C could slide lower, hold me closer, dip into my clothes and find a new purchase. I kill the thoughts with a quick prayer to the virgin mother ¨C a trick I learned from a youth group leader in high school. But anyway, Saturday comes. ¡°I think I¡¯ll go to Church in the morning ¨C besides, don¡¯t you deserve some time alone with your beloved?¡± Maria asks without looking up from her project. She started a cross-stich yesterday. The fact she can do it with gloves on is wild to me ¨C maybe they help? ¡°Right. Alone with several dozen other people, the saints, and God Himself.¡± ¡°There¡¯s the car ride. And maybe he can play gentleman and take you for dinner afterwards.¡± ¡°It¡¯s not playing if he¡¯s actually a gentleman.¡± I sit down next to her on the couch. ¡°And he is?¡± Maria finally looks up from her work. ¡°He¡¯s good to you?¡± ¡°Oh, he¡¯s amazing to me, Maria! He¡¯s thoughtful, he¡¯s attentive without being overbearing, He¡¯s such a caretaker, you know? I feel¡­secure. Like, I feel like everything I do he¡¯s right there, delighted that I¡¯m doing it. No worries, no jealousy, no¡­anything. Just us.¡± ¡°Are things¡­going somewhere then?¡± ¡°Like, getting married somewhere? We¡¯ve talked about it ¨C and we both figure getting engaged should be a post-graduation thing but¡­yeah, I think so. I think I¡¯m gonna marry him.¡± ¡°I see.¡± Maria sets her work down and reaches out for my hands, giving them a squeeze. ¡°That¡¯s wonderful that you¡¯re so desired,¡± she says, smiling. I almost argue the point. I almost try to insist it¡¯s not about desire, it¡¯s love. It doesn¡¯t require desire to be real, it¡¯s not about sex ¨C then I remember this is Maria. She already knows. And she knows exactly what she¡¯s saying by saying desire. She knows how I want to be desired. She remembers being freshly sixteen and flopped across each other on my bed while I¡¯m crying because I was rejected. ¡°I just want to be pretty. I don¡¯t even wanna be hot! Or cool! or freaking ¨C I don¡¯t know! I just want a guy to look at me and think that I¡¯m-I¡¯m pretty! That I¡¯m worth knowing!¡± ¡°You are worth knowing. And you¡¯re worth wanting. And a man is going to see you even better than I do someday. And he¡¯ll desire you like God desires his Church.¡± ¡°Yeah because any stupid boy is gonna say something as sweet as that to me.¡± ¡°He will. He will because you deserve it. God will give it to you. I know he will.¡± ¡°Maria, you¡¯re too good for me.¡± ¡°I know. Accept me anyway.¡± She booped my nose after that, setting me off giggling and weeping and pulling myself up to hug her properly. ¡°So, can I ask something?¡± I say, back in the present. ¡°What¡¯s up with the gloves? Is it part of your habit or something?¡± ¡°Oh, no, it¡¯s not religious,¡± she says. ¡°My hands are just very cold. I can¡¯t bear to touch things with my skin.¡± ¡°Oh, medical, got it. Sorry.¡± ¡°You¡¯re fine to ask. I understand it¡¯s different.¡± She picks her project back up. ¡°What time is Mass?¡± ¡°Four-Thirty.¡± ¡°Do you have much to do before then?¡± ¡°Not really, no¡­honestly? I¡¯m pretty comfy right here.¡± I pull my legs up on the couch. ¡°Mind if I hang?¡± ¡°Please do.¡± She smiles and her eyes crinkle her mouth opens ever so slightly, showing just a glint of teeth. It must be the brightness of the kitchen lights shining over the half wall into the living room, because I swear I¡¯ve never seen real teeth that white. I wanted it so badly to be the lights.
¡°And they¡¯ll know we are Christians by our Love,¡± I sing along with the congregation as the recessional ends. Andrew and I sit for a moment and pray in silence. Well, the point is we¡¯re praying in silence. My mind isn¡¯t quiet and I¡¯m sitting there asking God to quiet my mind so I can actually focus and pray but let¡¯s be real, I¡¯ve been doing that since we got here over an hour ago and I¡¯m still unfocused. I have to just take comfort in that I offered my best I suppose. ¡°Hi! Am I interrupting?¡± Ellie¡¯s voice cuts through the second I call it and make the sign of the cross. ¡°No, of course not, good to see you, Ellie,¡± Andrew smiles and puts an arm around me. ¡°Good to see you, Andrew! Hello, Violet.¡± ¡°Hi, Ellie.¡± I say, evenly and kindly. Evenly and kindly. Evenly. Kindly. ¡°I don¡¯t want to waste your time, but I was wondering if maybe, Andrew, you would be willing to make some time next Thursday ¨C so that¡¯s a week from Thursday, not this Thursday ¨C to do a talk with the boy¡¯s confirmation group? It¡¯s about chastity. And Father Ryland said he¡¯d do it but also encouraged me to find someone, well, not called to the priesthood to do it so I was like ¡®oh, duh, Andrew!¡¯ Like, I could probably ask Mister Moley, but I think someone younger, like us, would resonate more with the kids, you know?¡± ¡°I know,¡± Andrew says, cutting off her prattle ¨C her chatting¡­her talking. Her regular talking. ¡°I think I can ¨C can you text me details? Maybe if you don¡¯t have someone to talk to the young women yet then, Violet could. What do you think, dear?¡± ¡°Oh, uhm ¨C¡±This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon. ¡°¡ªI¡¯m gonna talk to the girls! So, it¡¯s all covered. I think that¡¯ll be more relatable anyway,¡± she cuts in, making sure I don¡¯t get a chance to even think about accepting or declining. I wonder if Andrew can tell the way her eyes dart up and down or see the unspoken words they carry. I wonder how many other people feel that way but aren¡¯t so blatant as our dear youth coordinator, Ellie Jones. ¡°Perfect. Maybe I make plans with Maria then for that evening.¡± I say crisply. ¡°Oh, whose Maria?¡± Ellie asks, her gaze trained directly on me. ¡°An old friend of Vi¡¯s who¡¯s visiting while she apartment hunts,¡± Andrew fills in. ¡°She¡¯s only been here a few days but like, it¡¯s so awesome getting to know more of Violet¡¯s people. She¡¯s really fantastic. Makes me appreciate the whole life she got to live before I was a part of it.¡± ¡°Oh, how sweet! Well, I¡¯ll be praying for you both and your Maria. God bless!¡± ¡°Have a good weekend!¡± Andrew says. As soon as Ellie is away I stand up, get out of the pew, genuflect and I am gone. ¡°Hey!¡± Andrew grabs my hand when we¡¯re outside. ¡°What the heck? Are you okay?¡± ¡°No! That¡­¡± I sigh and tug my hand away. ¡°Andrew I ¨C I just¡­Forget it¡­can we go?¡± ¡°¡­I don¡¯t know what else you wanted me to do. I had my arm around you, I offered up that you were a good choice for a virtue talk, I spoke highly of you!¡± ¡°You did everything right, Andrew! It¡¯s not you!¡± I start walking towards the car and he quickly follows. As soon as we¡¯re in the car I can feel my face getting hot with tears. ¡°Andrew, it¡¯s just¡­I love you.¡± ¡°I love you too, that¡¯s not something I¡¯ve ever doubted.¡± He reaches over and gives my hand a squeeze. ¡°I wish she didn¡¯t know I was bisexual,¡± I say. ¡°I wish she knew to mind her business,¡± Andrew says. ¡°As if it matters ¨C you told her that in confidence when we were in high school! In youth group! Come on, you were looking for help and support and she¡¯s still holding it against you? Six years later? How would she like it if someone implied her virtues were corrupt because she remembers people¡¯s stumbling blocks too easily? Absolutely bullshit.¡± ¡°Andrew!¡± ¡°Hey, we¡¯re out of the Church parking lot,¡± he laughs, and I try to smile, but it¡¯s hard. Something feels too jolted, too unsettled. I recognize how much support and comfort he¡¯s offering me; every word is full of its warmth. So why do they hit me like ice cold pinpricks? ¡°Well, lesson learned, don¡¯t be fifteen, don¡¯t tell seniors who are junior youth group leaders things thinking they¡¯re actually more mature than you, don¡¯t coincidentally go to college within the bounds of the parish where that senior is gonna end up being the youth ministry coordinator,¡± I say, trying to shake my feelings. ¡°We could go to St. Paul¡¯s instead,¡± Andrew offers. ¡°No, you love Holy Assumption,¡± I say. ¡°Well, or at least you love Father Ryland.¡± ¡°Counterpoint, no Father Covey trying to convince me to become a priest.¡± ¡°Is he still doing that?¡± Why do I feel alarmed? Andrew did consider it, before college. But he always said he knows his calling is marriage now. But what if someone ever convinces him otherwise? I can¡¯t go through it again. ¡°Only because he¡¯s senile. Besides, Ellie¡¯s right. I¡¯m not made for the priesthood.¡± He smiles at me as he pulls to a stop at a red light. ¡°I¡¯m made for you.¡± ¡°I¡¯m made for you.¡± I say, and the unsettling pinpricks return.
We do go for dinner, but I head back to my own place after. ¡°Violet, what¡¯s wrong?¡± Maria says as soon as I walk in the door, poking her head out of the kitchen and following me to the living room. ¡°So, do you remember Elizabeth Jones?¡± I ask. ¡°Does she not go by Ellie anymore?¡± ¡°Oh no, she still does.¡± ¡°Oh, because she still is clinging to the idea that it adds to her carefree and perky persona that she uses to ignore what a control freak tradcath who can¡¯t find peace because she simultaneously needs to be better than everyone to feel holy, but refuses to ever change because that would be admitting she¡¯s doing something wrong now, and also cannot genuinely work with anyone who she doesn¡¯t perceive as being as good as herself?¡± ¡°¡­well shit,¡± I whisper. ¡°I don¡¯t want to talk around the issue. I¡¯m right, aren¡¯t I?¡± Maria asks. ¡°Yeah, no, you are I just¡­fuck I don¡¯t know why I¡¯m surprised, who¡¯s blunter than a nun?¡± ¡°An old nun. So, check back in in a few centuries,¡± Maria says. ¡°Just in time for you to be older than Sister Angelique,¡± I scoff and flop onto the couch. ¡°Anyway, Ellie Jones? She¡¯s the youth ministry coordinator at our Parish.¡± ¡°I think we need wine.¡± Maria says and disappears to the kitchen. ¡°We have wine?¡± ¡°I grabbed a bottle when I went grocery shopping. There¡¯s a wine store downtown,¡± Maria calls back to me. ¡°Oh yeah, I¡¯ve gone by it ¨C I figured it was too expensive for me to breath in there,¡± I say. ¡°You just need to know where to look,¡± Maria responds, coming back in with glasses and a bottle she¡¯s already uncorked. The glass is dark. Not black ¨C green I think, just incredibly deep. The label is black though, with shining red and silver lettering in¡­French? I think French. Or maybe German? German would make more sense for Maria. ¡°Do you like red?¡± She asks. ¡°Oh yeah. You do too?¡± I ask. She nods and pours. We¡¯ve never drank together. Not really. Communion wine, and a glass of whatever our parents were drinking only at the table and only at Christmas and Easter. I¡¯m surprised she even has a concept of what she likes. How many experiences has she missed? Well, not missed. Just, elected to not have. I¡¯ve chosen to not do lots of the ¡°typical¡± college experience. And I¡¯m doing just fine. I take a sip of the wine. Oh, my goodness. It¡¯s sweet, but bites at the end, but somehow stays floral. I wonder if it has honey in it? My mouth feels perfectly dry afterwards but not parched ¨C just like I never took a sip at all. Not to mention it smells like berries on a summer day. ¡°Maria, this is perfect.¡± I tell her. She smiles and cradles her own glass. ¡°So, tell me about Ellie.¡± ¡°Right. So. Basically, she¡¯s still doing her same nonsense and guess who still doesn¡¯t meet her high standard?¡± I point to myself and roll my eyes. ¡°And like, I could shake off that she has some weird complex about me wearing slacks to Church now and again, or brushing off her comments about my weight ¨C oh she invited me to join a walking group last semester, fun fact ¨C but today she asked Andrew to give a talk for the confirmation students on chastity and then implied I¡¯m not virtuous enough for it but said it was because my experiences weren¡¯t ¡®relatable¡¯ Gee, wonder what she¡¯s talking about that my boyfriend¡¯s experiences are relatable but mine aren¡¯t?!¡± I take another deep drink. It¡¯s got a little bit of a kick to it I think? Or maybe it¡¯s more like a cinnamon taste? I like it. ¡°And Andrew just¡­listened to that?¡± ¡°No, he played it off ¨C arm around me, talking about how I was so wonderful, suggesting I do a talk. Which is what gave her the opening to say more¡­bullshit in the first place. And then in the car ¨C okay, and then in the car, he tried to like, talk about it and¡­and¡­I don¡¯t know.¡± ¡°Do you not know? Violet, what happened?¡± ¡°Nothing bad, nothing that hasn¡¯t happened before I just¡­He did everything right. He said the right things, he feels the right way, he¡¯s never done anything that would make me feel lesser, because he doesn¡¯t think I am¡­but then sometimes he¡¯ll say stuff that makes me feel that way anyway¡­like my flaws are too much at the core of me to ignore. Like everyone is just minding their business¡­I don¡¯t want him to mind his business or love me ¡®anyway¡¯.¡± ¡°You want him to love that part of you. You want it to actually feel as though loving you as you are means that. No worrying about if he can see your flaws, let that be for other people. Let it be that you have one person in the world who can look at you and see you like you shine with grace.¡± ¡°¡­yeah. Yeah I guess so.¡± I feel very quiet inside. I drink more wine. Maria brings a glass to her lips. She must be more of a sipper than I am because she¡¯s hardly had anyway and I¡¯m almost through a glass. ¡°Violet¡­you¡¯re bisexual.¡± ¡°I know.¡± ¡°I love you.¡± I look up at her and see no judgement, no joking, nothing but sincerity in her eyes. ¡°I¡­love you too?¡± I do, don¡¯t I? I don¡¯t have siblings, Maria does but that¡¯s¡­kind of a mess if I¡¯m being honest. Maria is the dearest family I have. I love her. ¡°And that¡¯s how you want it to go with Andrew, isn¡¯t it? Not ¡®but I love you.¡¯ Not even ¡®And I love you.¡¯ Just I love you,¡± she says. ¡°Yeah¡­Yeah, it is.¡± I say. I finish my first glass. I think I finally get what a velvety finish is. ¡°This stuff is good.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll pick up more,¡± she promises. ¡°Oh yeah, I definitely love you.¡± I say and pour a second glass. ¡°So, that¡¯s the nonsense from tonight, but she¡¯s been the youth minister for over a year.¡± Maria leans in and there¡¯s a spark of something excited in her eyes. ¡°Tell me everything.¡±
I drink more than I should but it¡¯s fine, I¡¯m sleeping in tomorrow anyway. And it gives a reason, I suppose. For the dreams. There¡¯s a breath lingering over me in my bed, whispering across my bare skin, trailing down my sides, my legs, between them. I reach out to feel who is there but there¡¯s no one. Maybe it¡¯s because the breath is back on top of me, pressing to my lips and kissing me hungrily. I want to kiss back ¨C I do kiss back. Desperate and hungry I can feel teeth scrape across my bottom lip, and I open up, letting my mouth fall open, at first to deepen the kiss and then to sigh and moan as those lips leave my mouth to kiss along my neck, sucking dark marks across it. I finally get my arms around whoever this is, and two things become clear: The woman on top of me is as cold as ice. The woman on top of me is not a stranger. I pull myself up to sitting to stare at Maria who is looking back at me with heavy lidded eyes and a face full of hunger. One hand goes to cup my cheek and the other to my chest, flicking over a nipple. She looks hungrier at seeing me let out a breathy moan. ¡°Let me have you,¡± she murmurs. ¡°Where¡¯s Andrew?¡± I ask. The hunger is gone for a moment from her face but the ache at my core is stronger than ever. ¡°If he¡¯s what you want, then just reach out and grab him.¡± She takes my hands in hers. She brings them to her face and kisses each of them softly before guiding them down. They find their purchase in that familiar, long hair. Thicker than mine, but not as dark. It suddenly seems so easy to pull him down onto his back so I¡¯m over him, straddling his hips and kissing him with that same hunger Maria had for me. Unlike me, he still seems to be wearing pants at least. But I sit up to look at him, to run my hands down his chest ¨C I¡¯ve rarely seen it, only once or twice when swimming ¨C and tug at the waistband of his pants, only teasing and implying. I could have him. ¡°He¡¯ll ask for you to have him before we¡¯re done.¡± Maria murmurs in my ears and the idea sends heat shooting down through me. I¡¯m far more prepared for her kisses this time as she leans in. I brace myself with one hand on Andrew¡¯s chest and the other on his face, covering his mouth so I can feel him groan and murmur to me as I grind down against him, feeling him harden against parts of me I rarely think to touch. He keeps his hands to himself, and I can¡¯t help but feel pleased with him for it. Good ¨C he can use his hands on me when I tell him he¡¯s ready to. Maria though has hands all over me, feeling every inch of my skin as her mouth overtakes mine. Finally, a hand finds its way between me and Andrew, a finger teasing at my folds and it¡¯s suddenly too much newness, too much feeling. I grab her wrist. And she stops. ¡°When you¡¯re ready, you can do nothing wrong here,¡± Maria tells me, one more soft kiss to my bruising neck and she¡¯s gone. Andrew looks up at me with wanting, desperate eyes I know he¡¯d never dare look at me with when we¡¯re awake. Am I ever going to see him look like he wants me this way when we¡¯re awake? He¡¯s gone too. And the light is coming in through the gap in the curtains. Chapter Four I¡¯ve had dreams about sex before. I am only human, and your dreams are not a matter of sin (according to every catholic forum I¡¯ve found on the subject since I was sixteen). But I still feel off in the morning. It was so vivid, and I¡¯ve never been able to picture the people I was ¡°doing it¡± with so accurately. I keep trying to shake it, but it doesn¡¯t go away. It feels more like a memory than a dream but none of that happened. I don¡¯t want any of it to happen! Well, not now at least. Andrew and I will eventually I suppose. And I asked for him in the dream. And Maria gave me him exactly how I¡¯ve skirted around the edge of imagining him. Maria did that. For me. In a dream. Just a dream. It takes me far too long to get out of bed, but it isn¡¯t like I¡¯m in a rush. Standing at the window and letting the sunlight hit my face helps a bit. I skip showering and stay in my pajamas. I can¡¯t see myself right now. I can¡¯t explain it, but I feel like there ought to be marks on my skin and looking at myself and not seeing them is more than I can take. I won¡¯t think of why. I won¡¯t. Our Father who art in heaven¡­. Breakfast is chocolate cereal, coffee with the fancy caramel syrup that Sophie got me for my birthday and nonsense renovation shows. If I can¡¯t get one kind of junk out of my brain maybe I can drown it out with other kinds. ¡°Violet?¡± Maria¡¯s voice calls from the hallway ¡°Fuck!¡± I whip around and almost fall off the couch. Maria is on me in a second, holding me up by my arm and catching my bowl with her free hand. I blink and stare at her. She was just barely out of her room ¨C how did she get over here? She looks awful. I had opened the blackout curtains she put up in the living room to get a little natural light and crack the windows open and in the bright morning sunlight she looks nearly as pale as me with dark circles under her eyes. Her lips look chapped, her hair looks dull. And those eyes I keep getting lost in despite my best efforts and my best prayers look as if the light isn¡¯t even reaching them. I would think she was concerningly sick, but she¡¯s all but supporting my body weight with one hand. ¡°Maria?¡± I whisper, staring into her face. She looks like a deer caught in the headlights which is ironic because I feel like one. She gently lets go of my arm and I resituate myself on the couch. She turns away and sets down my cereal bowl. ¡°You were ¨C how did you do that?¡± ¡°Do what?¡± She asks, still turned away. ¡°It was like you teleported!¡± I laugh but I know how strained I sound. ¡°No, I was just closer than you thought I was.¡± ¡°Are you alright? You don¡¯t look like you¡¯re feeling too hot?¡± ¡°No, I¡¯m as fine as I have ever been.¡± She turns enough to get the curtains, and I swear she flinches as the breeze moves her hair. ¡°Okay, seriously, what¡¯s up the curtains?¡± ¡°It¡¯s part of the same condition as the gloves. My body can¡¯t¡­I mean it isn¡¯t metabolizing ¨C that¡¯s definitely not the word ¨C but I suppose you could say that my body can¡¯t metabolize sunlight anymore. It¡¯s complicated and I hardly understand it myself.¡± ¡°Oh. I¡¯m sorry¡­I absolutely wouldn¡¯t have opened¡ª¡± ¡°¡ªViolet, you could never do anything wrong to me.¡± She says, turning back to me and I open my mouth to disagree because we both know exactly what I¡¯ve done to her Just go! I can hear my own voice in my head so clearly. Then I look into her eyes. Beautiful dark eyes. And I trust her. She means what she¡¯s saying. It¡¯s Maria, of course she does. Whatever this condition is, it must affect her pretty strongly because she looks fine now. Better than fine. The warm browns of her skin seem to flood back into her face and the bags are gone and her thick dark hair falls in its haphazard chops around her face and neck again. ¡°Well, still¡­I¡¯m sorry. I uh, I¡¯m just jumpy. I was trying to feel put together. Weird dreams.¡± ¡°Ahhh, Are the flowers eating the cat again?¡± ¡°Oh, shut up!¡± I laugh properly this time. ¡°I am never sleeping in the same room as you again.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t think that will be a problem ¨C have you warned your Andrew that you talk in your sleep?¡± ¡°That doesn¡¯t mean he¡¯s ready for it.¡± I laugh and shake my head. ¡°You ate enough breakfast?¡± ¡°Yeah, yeah I¡¯m good. Thanks, Maria.¡± ¡°Of course,¡± she says and slips away into the kitchen. I settle back into my seat and grab my cereal bowl to finish it off. I feel settled for the first time all morning. Like all I needed was to just connect with someone to feel alright again. Well, not someone. Maria. My Maria.
¡°Oh my god-goodness I saw one!¡± Sophie slides into her seat next to me. We still have a few minutes until this lecture starts. She must see how confused I am because she at least tries to clarify. ¡°The animals? The dead ones?¡± ¡°I¡­have no clue what you mean and frankly I¡¯m a little concerned to ask,¡± I say. ¡°There were all these dead rabbits found on campus this weekend! A couple of like, other animals too? Mostly found right by the rabbits. Super freaky.¡± ¡°Why isn¡¯t this on the news?¡± I immediately pull out my phone to check. ¡°Oh, oh it is¡­¡± I suppose I haven¡¯t been paying much attention to the outside world in the last few days. ¡°This report only says ten.¡± ¡°Only ten? And it¡¯s eleven now.¡± ¡°Right, of course ¨C are you okay?¡± ¡°Yeah, like I¡¯m fine,¡± Sophie assures me. ¡°A little weirded out but you know, it is just some rabbits. And some sick freak. But there¡¯s plenty of security cameras around campus, they¡¯ll catch whoever it was, right?¡± ¡°Yeah, I mean, there¡¯s no way they don¡¯t,¡± I agree, still skimming the article from the campus newspaper. The police aren¡¯t advising any student action besides reporting dead animals and not touching them. But no one has reported any harm to students, so things are weird but probably fine. Those poor rabbits. I can¡¯t stop thinking about it all through class. The article had no photos. I wonder if I can ask Sophie? No, I don¡¯t want to rattle her any more than she already seemed. I mean, she said she was fine, but she was so anxious to tell me about what had happened. Like if she didn¡¯t it would eat her alive.If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement. I give in to the morbid curiosity and try to find a photo and sure enough there¡¯s a post from late last night someone has tagged as being from on campus featuring the body of a rabbit. I¡¯ve seen dead animals ¨C obviously ¨C but this feels weird. It looks laid to rest, exactly like how a rabbit might snuggle up to sleep. Except for that the fur around its neck is mangled. Like it was killed by strangling. I am all too ready to take Sophie up on leaving campus for lunch. I need to clear my head of that image. I shouldn¡¯t have looked. Who would do that? ¡°Hey, this is so¡­so I found that rabbit, right?¡± Sophie says as we walk back to campus after lunch. ¡°It was pretty close my apartment¡­like, right next to the steps. I don¡¯t know, I¡¯m freaked out. Do you think maybe ¨Csince you have that spare room, I could crash while they sort this out?¡± Oh, shit, I didn¡¯t tell her. ¡°Uhm, so, I actually have a friend staying with me right now. From high school.¡± ¡°Oh.¡± ¡°Yeah uh, well, high school is a misnomer. We knew each other our whole lives. Her name¡¯s Maria. She¡¯s had kinda, well, her life fell apart? She¡¯s just staying while she puts herself back together.¡± ¡°Oh, wow.¡± ¡°Yeah. Uh, here, let me pull up a picture.¡± I grab my phone and start going back through my camera roll. ¡°She¡¯s really sweet ¨C I was thinking actually of next time there¡¯s something going on of bringing her. Just like, helping her rebuild a social life, you know?¡± ¡°Yeah, for sure. Sorry it was dumb to ask.¡± ¡°No! No, I¡¯m glad you asked. Are you going to be okay? I just don¡¯t want you to have to couch surf.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll be fine ¨C I promise! The very worst-case scenario is I beg my sorority to let me stay.¡± ¡°Okay, as long as you¡¯re sure,¡± I say as I finally scroll back far enough to find a picture of Maria. Wait. Why does she look like that? I¡¯m confronted with a picture of Maria from when we were seventeen. And it¡¯s wrong. This can¡¯t be the same human I¡¯m living with. Sure, we all change a lot in our early twenties, but this cannot be her, Why isn¡¯t it her? This old picture and the Maria in my apartment have the same face, the same dark hair and cinnamon-brown skin. The same dark eyes. Are they the same? I don¡¯t remember getting so distracted by her eyes as kids¡­not regularly. Not so easily. Maybe I was just better at ignoring the impulse then. ¡°Violet?¡± ¡°Oh, yeah. I can¡¯t find a good picture. It¡¯s whatever you¡¯ll meet her soon ¨C she¡¯s great,¡± I promise. ¡°I¡¯ll hold you to it ¨C walk safe okay? My next class is in here.¡± Sophie gives me a quick hug before heading into the building in front of us. I look at the picture for a moment longer before closing it and putting my phone away. It¡¯s just that we¡¯re older, I try to convince myself. I was never successful.
I¡¯m filling out job applications at Andrew¡¯s after dinner that night, seeing if I can get anything settled for the summer closer than the outdoorsy job up north. I still want it but doing long distance again would be miserable for Andrew and I don¡¯t want to do to that to him. ¡°I don¡¯t think my brain can take any more of this tonight,¡± I finally admit, closing my laptop. ¡°Where are you at?¡± ¡°Almost done with this, then I can get you home,¡± Andrew says. ¡°It¡¯s no big deal, Babe. I can walk myself out.¡± I say and lean over to kiss his forehead before going to pack up my backpack. ¡°No, I mean I¡¯m going to drive you,¡± he clarifies. ¡°Andy, you know I drove tonight, right?¡± I say, furrowing my brow. It¡¯s been drizzling all afternoon, and I might not like wasting time driving around campus, but Andrew lives a good few miles off of it. ¡°I know but the parking garage is kinda far from your place and I know you can almost never find street parking by your place so I just thought it might be nice to drive you home. We can listen to that podcast the deacon suggested in the bulletin.¡± ¡°And what about my car?¡± I ask, pulling on my shoes. Andrew gets up and starts to grab his shoes. ¡°Andrew, seriously, I¡¯m fine.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll come get you tomorrow too. It¡¯s no worries, Vi. I¡¯m happy to do it. It¡¯s safer anyway.¡± ¡°¡­Is this about the rabbits?¡± I ask. He doesn¡¯t look at me. ¡°Andrew, the rabbit thing is messed up, but they¡¯re saying there¡¯s no threat to student safety.¡± I¡¯m not bothered that he cares but him deciding for me what¡¯s right and then implementing it without even explaining himself is¡­well, I don¡¯t like it. That¡¯s for sure. ¡°The police said no apparent threat. I¡¯m driving you,¡± Andrew replies in a tone that reminds me of the way my dad would say ¡°and that¡¯s final¡± when we argued when I was a kid and reaches for his coat. An image appears in my mind. From the dream I had the other night. Andrew under me. Andrew listening to me. Andrew obeying me I grab his wrist. ¡°Andrew.¡± I put my other hand firmly on his cheek and turn his face to look at me. I¡¯m not grabbing ¨C just guiding. But he still follows. ¡°I am not afraid. I am not in danger. I will drive myself home. I will let you know when I get there. You can pick me up at eight tomorrow morning to get coffee before class if you are still worried after some sleep. Am I clear?¡± He looks at me, dumbfounded. ¡°Verbal response,¡± I direct. He nods. ¡°Yes, okay. Yeah. Sorry. I just¡­I was worried.¡± ¡°Tell me that next time,¡± I say and slide my hand up into his hair, using the gentle grip to pull him down into a kiss. It¡¯s soft and it¡¯s warm ¨C nothing like the cold and ravenous kisses from Dream Maria, but still delightful. And still all mine to give and take as I please. ¡°I love you,¡± I tell him, letting go. ¡°I love you too. Please don¡¯t forget to text me,¡± he says, giving my hand a gentle squeeze. ¡°I won¡¯t,¡± I promise. And I don¡¯t forget; I text him as I unlock my door and head inside. ¡°Maria? Are you here?¡± I call out. She doesn¡¯t respond but a moment later comes out of her room and leans in the kitchen doorway as I pour myself a drink ¨C there¡¯s still a little more of that wine. ¡°Are you alright?¡± ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m fine. How¡¯s yours going?¡± ¡°Alright. I wrote some letters.¡± ¡°Fancy. I thought Andrew was the only person who did that anymore.¡± ¡°He is.¡± ¡°And you?¡± ¡°And me. Here, I moved the glasses, I hope you don¡¯t mind.¡± Maria slips up next to me to open the cabinet above the sink. Is the sink linking? There¡¯s an odd coppery smell I only remember from when there was a broken pipe in my freshman dorm. A little bit like ¨C ¡°Violet, are you sure you¡¯re alright? You look lost.¡± Maria hands me a glass and it breaks my train of thought. ¡°I¡¯m fine, I¡¯m really fine, I promise¡­there¡¯s just a weird thing going on on campus. So, people have been reporting dead rabbits around campus. It¡¯s just weird. Andrew was freaked out about me even having to walk from the parking garage alone.¡± ¡°Hmm,¡± Maria nods. ¡°Well, I¡¯m more than certain there¡¯s not threat to you. You¡¯re a far more difficult quarry than a rabbit.¡± What the fuck am I even supposed to say to that? I just kind of laugh it off and take a long drink of my wine. It must not oxidize well, it takes kind of metallic today. Like a penny. ¡°I¡¯m uh, I¡¯m gonna hop in the shower I think,¡± I tell Maria. She nods and I turn to go only to feel her hand on my shoulder. ¡°Violet? You¡¯re not bothered that deeply about the rabbits, are you?¡± I look at her and meet her gaze. There¡¯s so much concern in her eyes. It feels different though than Andrew¡¯s attempt to commandeer the situation, it just feels like she would take care of me but only once I tell her to. And it¡¯s impossible not to trust her with anything. Everything. ¡°I think it¡¯s concerning, but like you said, I¡¯m no rabbit. Colleges are just strange. It will pass.¡± ¡°It will.¡± She smiles and moves her hand. It glides off my shoulder and she turns away to close the cabinet above the sink. What was I doing? Shower. Right. I should go. I manage to turn to leave and get to the bathroom and into the shower. Hot water feels amazing on my skin. I take the time to let myself warm up in the water, trying to parse out my thoughts from the past few days. I try to pray about it, hoping God will grant me some guidance. But prayer isn¡¯t instantaneous like that. At least, not for me. I did ask Him to help me to help Maria, but so far it feels more like she¡¯s been helping me. It feels like being home in a way I haven¡¯t felt since before mom died. And maybe even since before Maria left. How can she look so different than those old photos? Is it that she¡¯s thinner? Or no longer has that sunshine-bright toothy smile? Is it whatever chronic sickness makes her hands cold and makes her look so weird in the sunlight? Not weak though. I touch my bare shoulder where she held me up when I nearly fell off the couch. No longer my clumsy best friend. She¡¯s so graceful now. I turn off the water suddenly when my thoughts turn to the way the curves of her body looked in the pale light of my room in that dream. How many times can that stupid dream make its way into my thoughts in one day? I dry off and get dressed. I head to bed. I don¡¯t have any reason not to, and honestly? I feel drained. I suppose that would explain me waking up at three in the morning. I try to fall back asleep and can¡¯t manage it. I eventually get up, intending to just get some water and try to settle back down. I see her, but I don¡¯t think she sees me. Maria, with the curtains open and the windows open I think from the smell of the room and the gentle way her skirt billows around her. What is she holding? A strange shape. It twitches and my breath hitches. She turns her head, not enough to see me I don¡¯t think but enough to see her profile in the window. Her lips are so softly parted and her teeth glint in the light. I shouldn¡¯t be here. I turn and as quietly as I can run back to my room, shut the door and get under the covers, feeling way too much like a kid who thinks the blanket stops the monster under the bed. They were sharp Her teeth were sharp. I¡¯m dreaming. I need to be dreaming.