Page 14 of Distortion
It doesn’t take long to find what I’m looking for. My worldly possessions are few. There are some toiletries, a hairbrush, some spare underwear, the golden spiral earrings that my mom gave me for my thirteenth birthday, my tennis shoes ...sneakers,a sports bra, a T-shirt, and my joggers ...running pants. There’s also thirty dollars in cash that I had in my jeans pocket the day Mom and John left me at The Heath. Back then, it was my life savings. I’d brought it so that I could exchange it for pounds and buy a memento in London. Now, nine years later, it’s all the money I have to my name.
I stare down at the contents of the bag, feeling somethinglike resentment curling through me. I’m twenty-two. Shouldn’t my life amount to more than this?
I huff out a breath. It will, I promise myself. I’ll build something outside The Heath; something I can be proud of.
Now feeling very motivated despite my tiredness, I toe off my heels, take off my blazer, and shimmy out of my skirt. I leave everything neatly folded on the bed. I put on my running clothes, the only ones I have besides my funeraloutfit. I throw my feet into my sneakers and ignore the pain of the blisters I’ve received from the new, tight heels. I go to the door and then turn back, grabbing the cash and stuffing it into my bra.
No more than three minutes later, I’m sneaking quietly down the stairs, hoping I won’t meet anyone on them. The halls are quiet though, and I get out the front door without any awkward meetings.
As soon as I’m outside, I break into a jog. I don’t bother with stretching or a warm-up. I just run. At the bottom of the driveway, I turn right and go down the street, trying to remember the route Shade brought me in the car.
It’s another few minutes before I begin passing the other frat and sorority houses. Then, I notice a very new and swanky building with a glass front.The Novelle Center.This is the science building John paid for. Slowing as I pass it, I practically salivate at the sparkling chemistry lab I can just make out through the window. Most of the classes I took at The Heath were in science, chemistry, and mathematics, but everything was theoretical. I’ve rarely been in a real laboratory, and that was just the small one at The Heath I used to sneak into. I’d love the chance to go in there just to look around.
I follow the sidewalk around the back of the building and find myself in a throng of people. There are long tables all along the path with sign-up forms for various activities and clubs. There’s also a loud marching band that makes me want to run the other way. There are sights and sounds all around me, people everywhere. I tense as I abruptly slow down to a walk, just stopping myself from covering my ears with my hands.
I appear to have found the mandatory fun that was prophesized on the banners I saw from Shade’s car. The sheer number of students milling around has me second-guessing my little quest. All I want to do is turn around and go back to my quiet room.
I square my shoulders. If I leave now, I might as well ask John to have me taken back to The Heath. Swallowing hard, I enter the shuffling line of college-goers, looking at the desks as I pass them. The tables and clubs all meld together and, although I think I should join something, I can’t quite make myself sign up for anything. When I come across a large sign that has swords and axes on it, I read it with more than a little curiosity. ‘Dagorhir’. I don’t understand what it is, but my interest is piqued.
I move slowly toward the desk and take in the two thin guys that are sitting behind it. They’re engaged in a hot debate about something. I don’t catch the name, but it sounds like a computer strategy game. It strikes me that these two guys are much smaller in body than Mav, Shade, and Blake. Their arms are thin and their muscles not defined. It makes me wonder errantly if my stepbrother and his friends are the exception, or the rule when it comes to physical appearance.
They don’t stop talking when I draw nearer, not even when I’m standing right in front of them.
‘Excuse me,’ I say quietly after they don’t notice me for longer than thirty seconds.
They both turn to stare and fold their arms in front of them. They aren’t smiling and I almost take a step back at their angry-looking expressions and their closed off body language.
Too late to go back now.
‘What is Dagorhir?’ I make myself ask.
Both pairs of eyes are assessing. The shorter one on the left narrows his eyes at me while looking me up and down. I tilt my head, wondering if I’ve offended him. I thoughtgetting students to join these clubs was the point of all this mandatory fun.
‘We dress up and battle each other with foam weapons,’ the slightly taller one on the right mutters, sitting back and somehow looking down his nose at me even though I’m standing over him.
My eyes widen at his words, and excitement bubbles up in my chest despite their manner. ‘That sounds so exciting.’
‘Look, cupcake, you didn’t have to come over here and try to offend us, okay?’
I frown in confusion, not understanding why they think I’m being rude. The usual frustration begins to twist through me. I’ve missed something, but I don’t know what.
I glance around at the other tables in confusion, hoping to notice what I haven’t got right. People are laughing with each other and chatting. They’re tapping their details into the tablets on the tables. It all seems so simple, but of course there’s more to it than what I can see.
Why did I think I could do this? Years of practice and I still struggle like an idiot. At once, tears threaten. Bitter disappointment makes my shoulders slump as I look at the table in front of me instead of the two guys who are now ignoring me once more.
‘Oh, I see,’ I say numbly even though I don’t. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘What the hell did you just say to this girl, Travis, you dick? How many sign ups have you got today?’
I turn toward the voice and see a girl about my height with her long black hair tied up into a high ponytail. She’s wearing some kind of medieval-esque cosplay outfit and she’s carrying a foam shield that’s painted to look like wood and metal.
The taller one, who must be Travis, splutters. ‘A ton, Lu,actually.’
‘Bullshit,’ the girl mutters. ‘Maybe you two can climb out of each other’s asses for five minutes so you can actually drum up some interest. Or do you want the Battle Royale to suck again? We had twenty people last year, guys! Twenty. The goddamn knitting circle literally has more members than we do.’
She points to a table close by with three girls at it, a couple of guys, and a pile of autumn-colored wool skeins of various shades in the middle. One of the girls facing us stops knitting to give Lu the finger.
‘Yeah, fuck you too, Georgia!’ Lu shouts, returning the gesture.
