I had fun and I learned stuff, more stuff than I ever learned in my life, so I'm real happy I came to live with you. Thanks for being the best mom ever."
She puts one arm around me and into my hair, and starts crying.
"I love you, Isis."
"I love you too!" I laugh, the tears springing up. "I'll miss you."
I'll see her more than Kayla, but it still stings. I'm about as good at goodbyes as Tarzan is at wearing clothes.
At least Leo's in jail. She'll be safe for a few years.
I watch her go with a sinking heart that sort of dovetails into a swoop, and lifts back up as I face the school again.
I'm alone.
Nobody knows me at Ohio State. I have to start all over. Hundreds of freshmen stream past me on the sidewalks, trampling green lawn and my pure maiden heart as they look right through me. I’m more faceless than Emperor Palpatine before he took his hood off. A massive banner over the huge glass-faced library reads; WELCOME BUCKEYES!
“More like welcome fuckeyes,” A voice to my left groans. A girl with seven earrings in one ear and a round, stocky face stands beside me. She’s heavy and tall, but not fat, her hair dyed bright pink and shaved on the sides. Her combat boots and flannel shirt tell me everything I need to know. Badass Supreme. I simultaneously want to be her and fight her just to be able to say she punched me. She blinks hazel eyes thick with eyeliner at me.
“Uh, what?”
“Was I thinking out loud? I do that sometimes. The doctors say it’s probably Tourette’s but I say it’s a higher evolutionary process of humanity. Someday the entire world will be like me and it will be rad.”
The girl’s pink eyebrows shoot up, and she laughs. It’s a full, rich laugh, like stew instead of the giggly soup of most girls’. She holds out her hand.
“Yvette. Yvette Monroe.”
I shake it. “Isis Blake. But my friends call me Crazy. Or Idiot. Sometimes both at once.”
Yvette smirks. “That makes two of us.”
It's then I recognize one of the fabulous skull earrings she's wearing. There's another pair in my dorm.
"This is going to sound slightly stalkerish, but I can't help but notice you’ve decapitated Jack Skellington and put him on your ears."
"What can I say?" Yvette shrugs. "I like bones."
"So do I, actually, because our skeletons support a massive interconnected muscular structure and without them we would be blobs of flesh. Also we wouldn't have middle fingers to flip people off with. Are you in Room 14B?"
Yvette's eyes widen. "Yeah, so you're -"
"MY ROOMMATE!" I screech. A passing guy winces and flips me off. I loudly inform him he has his skeleton to thank for that. Yvette seems pleased. She thumps her arm across my shoulders and I sink about two inches into the soft dirt.
"You first," She says, leading me back to our dorm.
"First for what? A three-legged foot race? Because I'll have you know I only have one really good leg, the other is kind of unshaved and unsexy -"
"First to spill your life story. Where are you from?"
"Uh, Ohio. Or I mean, no. Florida! Yeah, that's the one. I grew up there then moved here in senior year. What about you? Oooh, let me guess - hell. You're from Hell."
"I am definitely from Hell. Hell, Kansas."
"I like uncooked ramen noodles and driving like a maniac," I continue.
"I hate everything except bacon and pickles. And I don't drive."
"One time in third grade I stuck candy up my nose to impress a boy. Spoiler: he was not impressed."
Yvette looks impressed, then looks out the window.
"I started smoking because it's the first year of college and I already know I'm going to drop out."
And it's her honesty that kills me. It's the way she says it - all frank, undramatic, modest honesty. Something I never had. Something I should've had. Something that, if I had, would have saved someone's life, maybe.
"My friend killed herself," I say. Yvette looks over at me for a second, a minute that stretches into what feels like an hour and I never want it to end,
She puts one arm around me and into my hair, and starts crying.
"I love you, Isis."
"I love you too!" I laugh, the tears springing up. "I'll miss you."
I'll see her more than Kayla, but it still stings. I'm about as good at goodbyes as Tarzan is at wearing clothes.
At least Leo's in jail. She'll be safe for a few years.
I watch her go with a sinking heart that sort of dovetails into a swoop, and lifts back up as I face the school again.
I'm alone.
Nobody knows me at Ohio State. I have to start all over. Hundreds of freshmen stream past me on the sidewalks, trampling green lawn and my pure maiden heart as they look right through me. I’m more faceless than Emperor Palpatine before he took his hood off. A massive banner over the huge glass-faced library reads; WELCOME BUCKEYES!
“More like welcome fuckeyes,” A voice to my left groans. A girl with seven earrings in one ear and a round, stocky face stands beside me. She’s heavy and tall, but not fat, her hair dyed bright pink and shaved on the sides. Her combat boots and flannel shirt tell me everything I need to know. Badass Supreme. I simultaneously want to be her and fight her just to be able to say she punched me. She blinks hazel eyes thick with eyeliner at me.
“Uh, what?”
“Was I thinking out loud? I do that sometimes. The doctors say it’s probably Tourette’s but I say it’s a higher evolutionary process of humanity. Someday the entire world will be like me and it will be rad.”
The girl’s pink eyebrows shoot up, and she laughs. It’s a full, rich laugh, like stew instead of the giggly soup of most girls’. She holds out her hand.
“Yvette. Yvette Monroe.”
I shake it. “Isis Blake. But my friends call me Crazy. Or Idiot. Sometimes both at once.”
Yvette smirks. “That makes two of us.”
It's then I recognize one of the fabulous skull earrings she's wearing. There's another pair in my dorm.
"This is going to sound slightly stalkerish, but I can't help but notice you’ve decapitated Jack Skellington and put him on your ears."
"What can I say?" Yvette shrugs. "I like bones."
"So do I, actually, because our skeletons support a massive interconnected muscular structure and without them we would be blobs of flesh. Also we wouldn't have middle fingers to flip people off with. Are you in Room 14B?"
Yvette's eyes widen. "Yeah, so you're -"
"MY ROOMMATE!" I screech. A passing guy winces and flips me off. I loudly inform him he has his skeleton to thank for that. Yvette seems pleased. She thumps her arm across my shoulders and I sink about two inches into the soft dirt.
"You first," She says, leading me back to our dorm.
"First for what? A three-legged foot race? Because I'll have you know I only have one really good leg, the other is kind of unshaved and unsexy -"
"First to spill your life story. Where are you from?"
"Uh, Ohio. Or I mean, no. Florida! Yeah, that's the one. I grew up there then moved here in senior year. What about you? Oooh, let me guess - hell. You're from Hell."
"I am definitely from Hell. Hell, Kansas."
"I like uncooked ramen noodles and driving like a maniac," I continue.
"I hate everything except bacon and pickles. And I don't drive."
"One time in third grade I stuck candy up my nose to impress a boy. Spoiler: he was not impressed."
Yvette looks impressed, then looks out the window.
"I started smoking because it's the first year of college and I already know I'm going to drop out."
And it's her honesty that kills me. It's the way she says it - all frank, undramatic, modest honesty. Something I never had. Something I should've had. Something that, if I had, would have saved someone's life, maybe.
"My friend killed herself," I say. Yvette looks over at me for a second, a minute that stretches into what feels like an hour and I never want it to end,
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