by Alison Grey
“Isn’t she near the Pentagon?” Sheridan asked.
“No, she’s in Richmond, that’s 2 hours from DC, she’s fine,” Hollis assured her, never turning her eyes away from the screen.
Four planes hijacked. New York City was chaos. Rumors were flying. There were three girls who we all knew from Martha Jefferson who couldn’t reach their parents who worked at either the Pentagon or the World Trade Center. We figured there were probably more.
Immediately, I knew— nothing would ever be the same.
It’s one thing to read about history.
It’s frightening to actually live in it.
Thirty-One
SHERIDAN
Olivia had been forgotten for the most part.
When she showed up later that night, we were all so exhausted from the events of the day, that we barely had the energy to greet her.
“I’m so sorry I didn’t call, but I couldn’t get through,” she said as she walked in, carrying a duffel bag crammed with what I assumed were clothes. “Everyone okay? I can’t believe this…”
“The phone lines were pretty busy earlier,” I said, walking over to give her a hug. Amanda and Hollis were still watching TV and Brooke was at her desk slurping on ramen. The dining hall was open, but none of us had felt like leaving the room.
Olivia looked around the room and it was clear there was still a weird vibe.
I felt like everyone knew something I didn’t.
But either way, I was glad we were all together and accounted for.
* * *
A girl in Hollis and Amanda’s Shakespeare class lost her father at the Pentagon. He was unaccounted for, anyway. Otherwise, it sounded like no other Martha Jefferson students had been directly impacted by the events of 9/11. Which was a miracle, being that so many of us had connections to the places attacked.
My parents had finally gotten through to me earlier in the day to check on me and make sure I was okay. The conversation had been brief, and felt more like an obligation on their part, as if it was the thing they were supposed to do, which I guessed it was.
Brooke’s parents called her a million times and offered to get a train ticket home for the weekend, which she declined.
“I mean what’s the point?” she said to me.
“They just want to see you. They love you,” I replied. I was envious of parents like Brooke’s who doted on her. She said they were resigned and reserved, but clearly when things were scary, they knew to show up.
The energy between Olivia, Amanda, and Hollis was very tense.
I hoped that whatever had happened, they could somehow work it out.
Especially after what just happened that day. Life was just too short and unreliable not to work things out.
Thirty-Two
HOLLIS
I didn’t know what to make of Olivia.
I hadn’t been thinking about the situation with Amanda, and I was just glad to see her back with us. I still cared about her a lot, and I hoped she and Amanda could come to an understanding about what happened at UVA.
I still held out hope it hadn’t been what it looked like.
Brooke and Sheridan had gone to bed early, worn out from the day. Olivia was unpacking her bag and I’d finally turned off the TV. I needed a break from the tragedy.
“So,” I said, looking over at Amanda who was on her computer. “I think y’all should talk. I’m going to go do some laundry unless you want me to stay.”
Amanda glanced up at me, and I could tell she was annoyed, but I’m not someone who likes to leave grudges and anger hanging in the air. It’s just always best to get shit out in the open.
“You don’t have to leave,” Amanda sighed. “Olivia, if you’re up for it, we should talk.”
Olivia nodded. “Of course. What’s wrong?”
Amanda and I glanced at each other.
“First off, I hope you’re okay,” Amanda started. “You left so suddenly yesterday, we were worried. And I wondered… I wondered if it had to do with me and the party on Friday.”
Olivia bit her lip and shook her head. “No, of course not. I just needed to be home to see my mom.”
She didn’t expand her reasoning, which I found strange, but Amanda didn’t push it.
“Okay, is she alright?” Amanda asked.
Olivia nodded. She seemed jumpy and nervous.
“Good…” Amanda looked at her computer screen and I could tell she was having a hard time knowing what to say or how to start this conversation. I was impressed with her ability to not start screaming and throwing things.
“At the party on Friday night, I couldn’t find Alec. Or you.” Amanda said, her eyes focused directly on Olivia now. “When I went to look for him, I saw him in the hall with you. And then I saw you kiss him.”
The tension and the silence between all of us was so uncomfortable. It also felt like an answer of sorts because Olivia didn’t immediately deny it.
“Did you really kiss Alec?” I asked, not being able to stand it anymore.
Olivia looked at me and suddenly burst into tears.
“I’m so sorry!” she cried. “He kissed me, and I didn’t know what to do! I saw him in the hallway and figured he was with Amanda and I wanted to ask her if she wanted to dance with me because you’d gone off with his friend and suddenly he grabbed me and kissed me and I just didn’t even know what to do, and it’s been killing me ever since!”
Her sobbing was so authentic. Her tiny body was shaking under the weight of her betrayal.
“I was worried you saw it, which is why I really left for Richmond, because I was so scared you hated me and would never speak to me again. Your friendship is everything to me.”
I looked over at Amanda to gauge her reaction.
“You didn’t have to leave school, we could have just talked about it, Liv.” Amanda walked over to her. “You say he kissed you?”
Olivia nodded, still covering her face. “I’m mortified. What an asshole he is.”
I sighed. “I mean, you’re kind of one too for kissing him back.”
Olivia looked up at me, shocked. “I didn’t! I would never. He kissed me! As soon as he did I pushed him away and then I came looking for you guys.”
Now that I could see her face better, I noticed there weren’t any tears on her face. Not even redness. Either she was one beautiful weeper—
Or Olivia Barron was a liar.
Thirty-Three
AMANDA
Olivia had never struck me as this type of girl. We’d known each other almost two years and I’d never doubted for a single second that she could be trusted.
It truly felt like someone else had taken over her body.
I hadn’t been that drunk. I knew what I’d seen. But Olivia was determined to deny it.
At least in front of Hollis.
After her performance, Hollis said she was going outside to smoke a cigarette.
“I need one after today,” she muttered. She looked at me and I could tell she was bewildered and drained. I shrugged.
“Okay,” I said. “I’m getting ready for bed I think.”
“Are we all okay?” Olivia looked at me and then Hollis. “I just want that night to never have happened. I’m so sorry. Beyond sorry.”
“I mean, if that’s what happened, that’s what happened,” Hollis said. “We can talk more about it later, I’m too exhausted. After today it all seems so fucking trivial.”
* * *
Once Hollis was gone, neither of us said anything for a few minutes. Olivia continued to unpack, and I pretended to be focused on something I was working on.
“You forgive me, right?” Olivia finally said. “I feel terrible, Amanda.”
Something in her voice, the way she said it, irked me.
“But you did kiss him,” I said. “I saw it happen. You leaned in and kissed him, and he picked you up. You giggled. I walked away before I could see anything else.”
“Oh no, that can’t be what you saw,�
� she explained. “I wouldn’t do that to you. Amanda, you’re one of my best friends.”
“I know, that’s why I was so upset,” I replied. “I just wish I knew why you did it.”
“Like I said, he…”
“Olivia, stop. I saw what I saw. You kissed him. You didn’t push him away. I just wish you’d be honest with me about that. I can forgive you, I just want you to be honest with me.”
Suddenly her expression darkened. I’d never seen anything like it— it was like she shifted right before my eyes. I still think of that moment and get goosebumps.
“I didn’t know you saw anything.” Her voice was flat now. “Honestly, I did you a favor, Amanda.”
I sat back in my chair, not sure what to make of her anymore.
“You did me a favor by making out with the one and only guy I’ve shown interest in the entre time we’ve been here?” I accused. My voice was shaking. “Explain that.”
“I wanted to make sure he was good enough for you, that he couldn’t be tempted,” she said. “I hadn’t planned on you seeing us kiss, but it meant nothing to me. And clearly, it worked, and now you know Alec can’t be trusted. He’s a player and now you don’t have to waste any more time on him.”
I didn’t even know what to say. It was the most twisted, manipulative thing someone had ever said to me, and after growing up in the dysfunctional environment I grew up in, that’s saying something.
“I wish you had just let me figure that on my own,” I said, quietly. “You broke my heart, Olivia. That was awful to see.”
“I’m so sorry,” she walked over to me. “As soon as I saw him, I knew he wasn’t going to work for you.”
I looked up at her, confused again. “How would you know something like that just from looking at him?”
“Well…” she sighed. “I feel like if I say what I think, you won’t take it the way I mean it.”
“Try me,” I insisted. “What are you talking about?”
“I mean, don’t get me wrong, I don’t have a problem with interracial dating,” Olivia said. “But you know, I could tell Alec wouldn’t be someone who would date a…”
I guessed she realized how monstrous she sounded because she didn’t have the courage to finish that sentence.
“A black girl.” I replied. “You assumed he couldn’t be interested in me because I’m black?”
Olivia winced at my words, as if she hadn’t been the one to put them in my mouth.
“It’s such an ugly truth, but I didn’t want you to get your heart broken! You deserve so much better!” she exclaimed. She was hugging me now and it took everything in me not to throw her out the window.
In one day, the country had changed, and so had Olivia.
And nothing broke my heart more than finding out someone I genuinely cared about had been someone else entirely, all along.
Thirty-Four
BROOKE
Olivia had come back, but things weren’t the same as when she’d left.
She apologized to all of us for her actions, something I found odd being that she hadn’t hurt us, she’d hurt Amanda. It felt like a performance, like Olivia needed to look like she was contrite instead of actually being contrite. She sounded rehearsed.
But we all had other things on our mind besides this drama.
The Badger Mart, a shop near campus that was somewhere between the size of a grocery store and a mini-mart, a place within walking distance of campus where all Mary Jefferson girls went for our junk food fixes and hangover cures, had been set on fire that night. Hollis had just come back inside from having a smoke when we heard the sirens. They sounded so close that we rushed to the windows to see what was happening.
There were trees partially obstructing our view, but we could make out orange flames dancing inside the glass and every fire and police vehicle in Staunton was on the street, lights and sirens going full bore.
The Badger Mart was a family business, owned by a man named Lahiru, who everybody called Larry, and his wife Fathima. They had two young daughters who were sort of the unofficial mascots of MJC. They always seemed to be in the store, and I don’t think I’d ever seen them wearing anything other than Mary Jefferson t-shirts or hoodies. Fathima’s grandfather, Samith, who looked like he could be 175 years old, was a fixture in the store and never failed to ask every Mary Jefferson girl two questions: Do you like older men? How are your grades?
He would always cackle hysterically after the first question, which was off-putting the first time he asked you, his laugh and smile were disarming, and not even the most militant of Mary Jefferson feminists were offended by Samith. His second question was deadly serious – he expected A’s, and I’d be lying if his inevitably disappointed head shake and his “tsk tsk tsk” noises when informed of a less-than-stellar grade didn’t inspire me to study that extra thirty minutes to turn a C into a B
At least 75% of the store’s clientele either worked at or attended Mary Jefferson. The Badger Mart was a Staunton institution.
Larry and his family were from Sri Lanka. They weren’t even Muslim. But they were brown and had funny names, which all a couple of rural Virginia rednecks with revenge on their minds and gas cans in hand needed, on the night of September 11, 2001.
The store didn’t burn completely to the ground, but it may as well have. The charred rubble was a daily reminder for weeks until it was all cleared out that no matter how beloved a member of the community or family you might be, you never quite knew what the next person was capable of. It was a lesson we would have done well to learn.
* * *
It was a punch to the gut to glimpse this new side of Olivia, but I wanted to believe her when she said she was sorry. I didn’t want to fracture our fivesome, especially over some guy. It was the opposite of what we stood for as Martha Jefferson women.
We lied to ourselves and it was selfish. We forgave Olivia.
And by doing that, we’d let Amanda down.
* * *
A couple of weeks later, things seemed a little better. Tension had dissipated between Amanda and Olivia. We were all in the thick of our junior year, our classes were more challenging, and there was never enough time, not really.
Sheridan had recently been talking more to Heath, a guy she was infatuated with who went to SMI. None of us really understood it, but he seemed to make her happy so that’s what mattered. She’d ride with Hollis on Wednesday nights to go visit him and Hollis’s friend Winston who was clearly completely in love with her, but who Hollis found boring.
As for me, I was focused on school and had already started getting ready for the GRE which I would take the following fall. I wanted to go to grad school and eventually become a social worker so I could save the world, one kid at a time.
I was so hopeful then.
If only I’d been paying more attention.
Thirty-Five
SHERIDAN
Heath was special to me. Now I know he just subconsciously reminded me of my father, and I was drawn to those qualities in him, but at the time I didn’t have the intellect or experience to understand that.
Otherwise I would have run far away from him.
He was cold, even then. I mistook that as being complex and mysterious, when really it just spoke to so much he lacked as a person. He was handsome in a pretty sort of way, and very smart. I was attracted to his ambition and the feeling that if he was choosing to speak to me, that meant I was special.
I spent way too much time talking to him on instant messenger. He’d send me songs he liked so I could download them and learn to like them, too. He would also talk to me about his favorite movies and his favorite books. He never asked me about my own likes and dislikes; that’s not what our relationship would ever be about.
He liked to see how he reflected off of me but did not care to know what I consisted of, not in any real way.
We were not boyfriend and girlfriend. I had found that guys my age at that time were always reluctant to place such a label
on anything and oh, how I wish I could go back and do the same. I missed out on so much waiting for things to change that never would.
But everyone knew I adored him. I talked about him a lot, especially to Olivia. I told Olivia everything. Of all the girls, I was the one closest to Olivia. It’s why when she’d been so upset about the Alec and Amanda thing, I’d instantly trusted she was telling the truth, that if anybody was a victim in all of this, it was Olivia, and that Alec was just a heartless asshole.
As I said— I really didn’t have a clue.
* * *
I was hopeful for one thing and it was all I could think about.
SMI has a big formal dance for junior cadets every November where they get their class rings in some big ceremony that’s been tradition there since before the Civil War or something.
And I was really hoping Heath would ask me to be his date.
I couldn’t think of anyone else he would ask. And now that October was here, I knew he’d have to ask soon so I’d have time to get the white dress that all escorts of cadets were required to wear, along with elbow-length white gloves.
I got excited just thinking about it.
I’d played it as cool as I could, since no one found desperate attractive, as Hollis often reminded me. But I was hopeful it would happen soon because Winston had just asked Hollis and she’d agreed to go. Being that Winston and Heath were roommates, I assumed he’d ask soon.
Every day I’d eagerly wait for the ding of my instant messenger.
Looking back, it still breaks my heart.
* * *