Nice Try, Jane Sinner

by Lianne Oelke

  AP

  Hey, Jane. Is there something you need?

  JS

  Hi. Yes, I need access to footage of the kitchen.

  AP

  How much footage?

  JS

  All of it.

  AP

  And what do you want to do with it?

  JS

  Just watch. Study certain habits.

  He didn’t seem surprised, so I bet he had already caught on to the experiment. He stared at me for a minute, sitting strangely still and looking very small compared with all the empty darkness hanging overhead. It’s easy to forget Alexander Park is just a student like me. A much more experienced, attractive, and ambitious student, but a student nonetheless.

  AP

  You understand I can’t give you special treatment. If I give you access to footage, I’m giving you an advantage over the other contestants. If that got out, the credibility of the entire project would be undermined.

  JS

  Of course. I won’t tell if you won’t.

  I held eye contact as evenly as I could, refusing to be the first one to look away. After another minute, he laughed.

  AP

  All right. If you’re doing what I think you’re doing, I want to see how it plays out. But if anyone finds out—​your mother or best friend or a pen pal in China—​you could be disqualified. Got it?

  JS

  Yep. Thanks.

  He played with the computer next to his for a minute, then pulled out the chair and motioned me to sit down.

  AP

  You have half an hour.

  Half an hour was all I needed. The footage from the GoPro in the corner of the kitchen was open in a video editing program, and I could drag the cursor across the timeline and watch hours speed by. I saw Raj open the fridge once during lunch when everyone else was at school and once in the evening. Marc helped himself the past three nights just before midnight. Once I finished I thanked AP again and left. He raised his hand once as I opened the door to the house, but his eyes never left his computer screen. His single-minded focus reminds me of someone I can’t put my finger on.

  I’ve decided the best way to proceed with the experiment is to set up my own GoPro. I found an old model on Craigslist for fifteen dollars. I’ll pick it up on my way to work tomorrow.

  TueApr5

  My support for the Basement Alliance is already crumbling. This afternoon I found a whiteboard in the kitchen, with (dear god) a note about cleaning dishes written on it in careful pink letters. There was even a sickeningly cute smiley face drawn at the end, perhaps meant to trick the rest of us into thinking the author wasn’t being passive-aggressively bitchy after all.

  Dear Chaunt’Elle:

  I know we’re on the same team and all which basically makes us BFFs, but I recognize your writing and I’ve read enough blogs to realize that this sort of “problem solving” leads only to more passive-aggressive notes and resentment all around. If this happens again, we are going to have a lil’ chat, and your delicate, nonconfrontational nature will cringe at my bluntness.

  Love,

  Jane

  Hopefully sending this won’t be necessary, but today I just snorted in understanding with Raj as we made subtle adjustments with a dry-erase marker to set a slightly different tone.

  Hey guys! I know we’re all super busy, but if we could just look at the wishes we dream before we put them away, we wouldn’t end up with so many dirty wishes in the cupboard. Thanks :)

  In other news, I am already behind in my assigned readings by a total of fifty-four pages.

  I bought the GoPro and set it up in the kitchen when I got home from work, around eleven. I put it on top of a cupboard, fairly well hidden. I doubt anyone will notice that it hasn’t been there all along. I figured tonight would be a good night to try it out, as I’m sure everyone knows by now I usually stock my mini-fridge with newly expired yogurt (still good for a day or two, really) when I work evening shifts. I set the remote-controlled car Bonnie got me when I was in the hospital on the opposite cupboard. If I stand in the corner of my bedroom, I can control the car from the basement. I set up the car so that it would knock over the vase sitting on the edge of the cupboard without falling down with it. At least that’s what I hope I did. The camera is working fine. It’s almost midnight, so I’m lying low downstairs.

  Holly’s bedroom is right next to the kitchen, so she heard the crash and came out right away to help Marc clean up the glass. Marc still took a yogurt before heading back to his room, but seeing him jump after walking into the kitchen so smugly in his too small tank top was satisfying. Now I just need a bunch more clever ideas.

  Jane reluctantly agrees to another therapy session. Apparently, she still has some unresolved issues.

  JS

  I think I can save us some time here. I’ll tell you my only motivation in life.

  THE DOCTOR

  And what motivation is that?

  JS

  The lols. It’s the only reason I ever do anything.

  THE DOCTOR

  This is a good start.

  JS

  Yes, it is.

  WedApr6

  If I was still at James Fowler, I’d have a free period with Tom right now. We’d be meandering through Nose Hill Park, Slurpees in hand, complaining about school and the weather and each other. I’d ask Tom for help on my math assignment, and he would ask me to make him laugh. I’d tell him to shut up, and he’d laugh at that. He laughs at anything, really.

  I called Tom.

  TOM

  Jane! Hey!

  JS

  Hey yourself. What’s up?

  TOM

  Nothing. Just walking to the park. You? You never call anymore, by the way.

  JS

  I know. I’m the worst.

  He laughed.

  JS

  That wasn’t a joke, Tom.

  TOM

  Yeah, sure. Hey, can you hold on a sec—​

  A loud truck or something drove past, and I couldn’t make out the rest. I heard laughing in the background.

  JS

  Who are you hanging out with?

  I realized too late I sounded like my mom, trying too hard to be casual when she asks for details about my life.

  TOM

  Oh, no one. Just a couple of people. A new transfer student and—​

  Laughter erupted again, drowning out Tom’s voice.

  JS

  Uh-huh . . .

  TOM

  Hey, Jane, what are you doing Saturday night? We’re going to Ashley’s farm out in Balzac for the night. You have to come!

  We’ve got a HOO challenge Saturday night. I don’t know what it is, but I promised AP I’d be home.

  JS

  I wish I could! But I’ve already got something that night.

  TOM

  Like what?

  JS

  It’s kind of a long story, but—​

  More shrieks in the background.

  TOM

  Jane? I can’t hear you. Can you call back later?

  I don’t know if homesick is the right word, but I can’t think of a better way to describe how I felt after he hung up.

  Robbie’s bedroom smells like bleach. It’s empty and too well organized. One wall is carefully covered with posters of Stevie Nicks, and it seems likely that Robbie measured the distance between each one. The uniformity is unnerving. Robbie and I are in the same Intro Sociology class, and we worked on a paper analysis for two hours. And by “worked on a paper analysis for two hours” I mean exactly that, which feels odd. Robbie divides his time up as thoroughly as he divides his wall space. He wastes nothing, and I have to admire that. We got a lot done, before Hinkfuss came in. She meowed loudly and didn’t shut up until she took a piss on Robbie’s notes. Alexander Park told us she was named for a philosophy prof at the college. I’ve never met Dr. Hinkfuss, but I can only assume she is long-winded and has little respect for student work. Robbie was
annoyed, of course. I’d have offered to lend him my notes, but I doubt Pokémon doodles are much more helpful than cat pee.

  Mr. Dubs sent me three Facebook messages this afternoon. He wants to know how I’m adjusting to college. I figured I should reply, since I haven’t answered the other seven messages he sent this week.

  JS: It’s going well, thanks. Classes are good and I’m learning a lot and making new friends.

  I should have edited that to make me sound less giddy and breathless, but I wanted to get it over with. He replied instantly.

  MR. DUBS: Great to hear, Ms. Sinner!

  JS: Could you call me Jane?

  MR. DUBS: Of course, Jane. How is everything outside of school?

  I wondered if he knew about House of Orange. He seems like the kind of guy who would watch it religiously. I don’t like the thought of Mr. Dubs watching me on the internet. So I won’t bring it up until it’s too late.

  JS: Everything is good. I’m getting to know a bunch of people I wouldn’t normally hang out with.

  MR. DUBS: That’s great! You know, Elbow River has quite an array of clubs you might be interested in. Stop by my office sometime, and I’ll go over them with you!

  JS: Yeah, for sure! Can’t wait.

  I creeped his profile page after. I didn’t want to know more about him but couldn’t help myself. His cover photo shows him in the middle of a group of students in McDonald’s or something, grinning with 25 percent of his mouth and 100 percent of his eyes. I scrolled through a couple profile pics of him on a hike but stopped after thirty seconds. I knew he wouldn’t have minded, but I can’t help feeling uncomfortable every time I realize teachers and pastors and program counselors are people with lives, too.

  I waited for Marc tonight, but he didn’t show.

  ThuApr7

  I’m caught up on reading now, and I want to pat myself on the back/shoot myself in the face. It’s strange how all my classes are so disconnected, yet all the profs end up assigning work due the same day.

  Bonnie wanted me to go out for supper with her and some other friends. I told her I had assignments to finish, because if I told her I couldn’t afford to go out right now, she’d try to pay for my meal.

  Everyone in the house except Marc stayed in tonight and watched movies. Holly and Chaunt’Elle watched a romantic comedy upstairs, but I had already seen it, unfortunately. It’s about a ruthless and independent businesswoman who GETS THINGS DONE. Eventually she meets a kind and disheveled middle-school science teacher. Her heart melts and leaks all over the place and makes a mess of things, and after discovering that romance is the greatest thing ever, PERIOD, she sells her share in the company and cofounds an orphanage in Mexico. The credits roll after her wedding. It’s one of the most depressing movies I’ve ever seen. Raj and Robbie and I watched a horror film in the basement and had a much better time.

  The Doctor has a question for Jane.

  THE DOCTOR

  Why did you tell Bonnie you couldn’t hang out tonight?

  JS

  I couldn’t afford to go out.

  THE DOCTOR

  Perhaps you were just using that as an excuse. Perhaps you were avoiding her by distracting yourself.

  JS

  I’m not avoiding Bonnie or distracting myself. Sometimes I’d just rather stay in and eat fuzzy peaches.

  THE DOCTOR

  Well, fuzzy peaches are quite good, aren’t they?

  JS

  I know, right?!

  FreeForAllFridayFridgeApr8

  All I wanted was lunch.

  I didn’t ask for rituals involving secret locations and masks and chanting. I certainly didn’t ask to spend the afternoon with Marc. Maybe this is what it takes to fit in as a “college student.” And maybe Mom has a point when she says I should work on being more social. I should at least make it part of my game plan and all. She called me this morning to ask if I was making any friends. I don’t want Marc to count as my friend. But I ran into him this afternoon and I was hungry and Marc was hungry and one thing led to another.

  MARC

  I’m going to the Donz.

  JS

  The Donz?

  MARC

  Just relax, Jane. I want to get in with these people.

  JS

  These people?

  MARC

  Yeah. Do what I do. Act cool. Maybe you’ll get in too.

  I am pretty sure Marc and I have incompatible definitions of the word cool. Still, I followed him out the front door and down the street.

  JS

  So who are these people? And what does it mean to get in? I don’t want to “get in.” I just want a quick bite.

  MARC

  Well, don’t tell them that!

  JS

  Will you at least tell me what the Donz is?

  I struggled to keep up with Marc’s increasingly long strides.

  MARC

  Sinner, has anyone ever told you you talk too much?

  Of course no one has. And I was quickly losing interest in Marc’s cool-guy act.

  JS

  Whatever. I’m getting something here.

  I nodded to the McDonald’s in the strip mall ahead. Marc didn’t say anything but veered across the empty parking lot ahead of me.

  JS

  You don’t have to come with if you have somewhere better to be.

  Marc ran his fingers through his hair while checking himself out in the window. Then he opened the door.

  JS

  Please tell me this isn’t the Donz.

  My heart sank when I saw the group of students sprawled around three tables in the back, some of them wearing tacky Elbow River shirts, and each of them wearing a plastic Hamburglar mask. Creepy as shit. In the middle of it all stood Mr. Dubs, sticking out like a gangly weed, his masked head towering over the students. The starchy crease of his slacks cut through the sea of sweatpants like a knife. I’d ignored his last two Facebook messages inviting me to stop by his office. What was he doing here? Before I could ask Marc what was going on, Mr. Dubs’s too-long neck swiveled, and his Hamburglar eyeholes snapped on me.

  MR. DUBS

  Ah, Marc, you brought a friend!

  I’m not his friend. I’m not a part of whatever shit show is happening here.

  MARC

  Yeah, she wanted to tag along. Hope that’s cool?

  “Tag along”? Really, Marc?

  MR. DUBS

  Wonderful. Glad you both came. If she proves worthy, Marc, you did well.

  JS

  Actually, I have to run. I’ve got to—​

  MR. DUBS

  We always initiate new members here at the Alpha Location. If you pass, we’ll let you in on the other Donz locations we visit each week.

  I scanned the sea of Hamburglars for some sort of clue as to what in the hell was going on here, but all I saw were dark eyeholes and heads tilted in curiosity.

  JS

  Okay, but what—​what exactly is this?

  Marc looked at me like I was the idiot in this situation.

  MARC

  McNugz Club, Sinner.

  JS

  Sorry, what?