Nice Try, Jane Sinner

by Lianne Oelke

  I’m sorry. That sounds terrible.

  JS

  So, what would you do? If you were me.

  CAROL

  I’d do my homework and make sure I graduate. And I’d try to get back on the show to kick some ass.

  JS

  You’re too young to swear, kid.

  CAROL

  I can do what I want.

  I don’t need to know God loves me. I just need to know that she does.

  JULY

  FriJul1

  AP sent me a basket of muffins this morning. At first I assumed Jenna told him of my condition, but no.

  Dear Jane:

  Happy Canada Day, you hoser.

  I know you appreciate getting to the point, so I will. The dean has decided not to cancel House of Orange. In fact, CityTV now wants to air episodes weekly. Jenna tells me you’ve been making an effort to promote the show. While your efforts wouldn’t have been necessary had you not lied in the first place, they have been appreciated. The latest episode received strong ratings and just hit 100,000 views on YouTube. This is a result of strong editing, camera work, and producing. It is also a result of a strong cast. I understand you have had a harder time than others, but I wanted to let you know your strategies, relationships, and sassy attitude have been duly noted. Thank you for helping make the show a success, and I hope you will exemplify honesty (when appropriate) in future endeavors. Enjoy the muffins.

  —​Alexander Park

  A peace offering, eh? Well, AP knows just as well as I do that “honesty’ ” doesn’t make for good television. At least now I know the show will continue on swimmingly without me. Not that I wanted to hear that. I was feeling practical, so I ate the muffins instead of throwing them at Robbie’s basement window. I did save one to light on fire and place on their doorstep. Raisin bran.

  I wonder if AP feels any sort of responsibility for my journal ending up online. How would R know I had it, unless AP gave him footage of my room and R saw me writing? Now, that’s a creepy thought. Even AP wouldn’t go that far.

  Aunt Gina’s house tonight. No one wanted Canada Day at her house, but we went anyway. The entire family was there, minus the extended Edmontonians. No great loss. Thankfully my face has returned to normal.

  I was in a bad mood this afternoon. I don’t know why. Yes, of course I do. Gillian’s boyfriend ate the last seven chocolates. Not just the last one but the last seven. Who is this person, and why did they have to keep touching each other at a family dinner? My claim to those truffles was stronger than his.

  The kids’ table was overflowing with barbecue sauce and elbows. I had to sit next to Jack and Gill. Jack is probably not his real name, but who cares? If I had a love interest, I would never touch him in public. Especially not at family dinners. I might never touch him at all. Kids these days.

  SatJul2

  Bonnie’s relieved the show won’t be canceled. I know she’ll still watch every episode from the godforsaken cultural black hole that is Edmonton. She’s not enjoying her first week of class as much as I thought she would. It’s the first time she’s been away from Tegan for more than a day, and sixty-three texts and/or phone calls a day just isn’t the same. Bonnie says I wouldn’t understand, and she’s right. I can’t stand the thought of talking to the same person that many times in one day, never mind every day. Bonnie once told me that she thought Tegan was dead or pissed off or unconscious when she hadn’t heard from her in three hours. I once told Bonnie that I didn’t know my dad had gone on a business trip for five days until my mom asked me to pick him up from the airport.

  I sent Bonnie a postcard of Calgary with the Rockies in the background to remind her of better days and nicer places. If only I could still win AP’s Jetta—​the first thing I’d do is drive it to Edmonton and bring Bonnie back.

  SunJul3

  Had lunch with the parents and brought them up to speed with my life, minus the parts about academic probation, nearly getting expelled, and my journal ending up online (god knows they would snoop). Besides, I think we’ve all had enough “honesty” for now. They took it rather well, which means they have considerably lowered their expectations of me.

  MOM

  Thank you for being honest with us, Jane. And your exam results were actually not bad!

  I tried not to hold her surprise against her.

  DAD

  See? A little academic discipline is good for you. We’re . . . proud, Jane. That you’ve been able to keep up your grades despite everything else you’ve chosen to take on.

  JS

  Yes, well. I’m trying to turn over a new silver lining.

  DAD

  It’s “turning over a new leaf.”

  JS

  Oh. I guess I really dropped the bag with that one.

  DAD

  Jane, come on now. If you’re going to say something, please say it right.

  JS

  Sorry, Dad. I was just playing devil’s avocado.

  I had to stop myself there. Any more improper idioms and Dad would never forgive me. It’s still up in the air, as it is.

  MonJul4

  First day back at school after the Journal and Pinkeye Incidents. Awkwardly walking down crowded hallways wondering if it’s just your imagination or if every other student is looking at you gets old after a while. I want to hate every person I see, because for all I know they’ve spent the last week amusing themselves with my angst.

  I have to keep reminding myself who is really to blame so I don’t lose perspective.

  I shared my sonnet with the class today because sharing is part of our grade. I might have liked this class if it involved significantly less social interaction. But someone under academic probation has to play by the rules, especially when she just missed several classes due to pinkeye. Anyway. This one’s for you, posterity.

  Now My Feet Can Touch the Ground

  Attraction; everything is drawn to you.

  Resistance is heavy-handed, like too

  much at once. What else could disgruntle you?

  Nothing but groundless instability.

  I’ll listen to you drone steady nothings;

  privacy’s not required, but still inclined

  to happen if they resolve to close doors.

  But what we do is done for them, as well.

  If I have forgotten you, forlorn and

  static, I’m sorry. But satisfaction

  runs all the deeper for the tardiness.

  And what we do is sure to be done well.

  Beauty might be the visible motive

  if underneath is just as well exposed.

  The class had to discuss the meaning of each poem after it was shared. I couldn’t help but notice the half smiles and knowing glances my classmates exchanged between themselves after I shared mine.

  TRAVIS

  Is it about . . . you know . . . a breakup?

  I waited a couple minutes until everyone agreed on the same thing before telling them it was about vacuuming.

  JS

  It’s about vacuuming.

  TRAVIS

  Really?!

  JS

  Really.

  We all had a nice laugh about it.

  I don’t need a TV show to lead an interesting and fulfilling life. Right?

  After Creative Writing, a girl stopped me in the hallway and told me how shitty it was that my journal was online.

  JS

  I know.

  GIRL

  I’m so sorry. I don’t believe what everyone says about you, if it helps.

  JS

  (WTF do people say about me?! Don’t tell me don’t tell me; god, I want to know.)

  Thanks.

  The day is so much worse in retrospect. Usually I’m curious enough to browse social media and eavesdrop on conversations. Can’t handle it today. Too much sympathy. It’s gross. I’m hanging low in the linguistics section of the library, doing my best to blend into a stack of books that happen to match the color of m
y sweater.

  Text from R(?!): You busy?

  JS: (So busy.)

  R: Can we meet up to talk?

  JS: (Actually I have to go home now and think about my life. Perhaps suffocate myself with self-reflection.)

  R: Please just respond. I need to talk to you.

  JS: (Why don’t you go stick your head in a dumpster?) No, thank you.

  Jenna and AP were fighting in the kitchen again last night. All I could make out was AP saying “not here,” and then they went outside. I shut my eyes and tried not to listen for their muffled voices outside my window. Tom ended up calling from some concert in Edmonton, but I couldn’t make out anything beyond distorted guitars and sober excitement.

  TueJul5

  A fan sent flowers to my house. That’s all the card said:

  To: Sinner

  From: A Fan

  No idea if I know this person or not. And I’m not sure if I care.

  ThuJul7

  I saw R eating his lunch on a window seat today. Almost a silhouette, with the pale sunlight outlining the far side of his face. HOOcaps would have liked the lighting. He sat with his knees up, leaning against the wall with eyes closed and chocolate milk in one hand. It was one of those moments that specifically feel like a moment. Or a memory. Something bittersweet. I couldn’t help but see how well I would fit next to him, the warm pressure of his sweater on mine, how nice it would be to enjoy the silence together. Of course, this will never happen now that I know what he is.

  He texted me again. I told him to fuck off.

  FriJul8

  R ambushed me outside of English today, holding out a chocolate milk and surrounded by a cluster of HOOcaps. I ignored the chocolate milk but did consider dumping it down his shirt. But Academic Probation Jane restrained herself. So I gave him the coldest of shoulders and left him standing awkwardly on his own. You’re welcome, AP.

  Really. What is House of Orange going to do without me?

  Jenna and I were talking tonight. It was late and the TV was on, but we had stopped paying attention when a legal drama began and we couldn’t find the remote. God, I hate legal dramas.

  JS

  I have a question for you. It’s for a philosophy assignment. I want to know what you think.

  I fished around in the sad, disorganized sack that is my shoulder bag. It had been sitting next to me the whole night. Anyone who thinks that homework + television = effective multitasking is lying to herself. I found the assignment from Hinkfuss and showed it to Jenna. It read:

  Jane Doe is tied to a railway track, just within reach of a switch. A train is coming down the tracks. It will crush her, unless she pulls the switch. But if she pulls the switch, the train will be diverted to another track, where it will crush three senile eighty-year-olds. Jane does not have enough time to free herself—​only to pull the switch. What is the moral thing to do? (Defend your answer using either utilitarianism, deontology, or virtue ethics.)

  JENNA

  The only immoral thing I see here is Hinkfuss using a whole sheet of paper to print one stupid question. And the illustration—​I assume it’s meant to be an illustration—​is nothing more than a giant blob of black ink. What a waste.

  JS

  I’ve always thought the gloves come off when you’re facing death. At least that’s what everyone seems to think. Anything goes when it comes to self-defense, or survival.

  JENNA

  That’s bullshit.

  JS

  Maybe. Why?

  JENNA

  Because that way of thinking means, at the end of the day, it’s everyone for herself. It means individual life is the only thing that is sacred. Not conscious, active, feeling life. Biological life. The state of being not dead. The same life that all animals share. And if this is the only thing worth doing anything for, then it means we’re just animals, too.

  Sometimes Jenna opens her mouth and words float out and I feel like an ignorant child.

  JS

  But aren’t we just animals?

  JENNA

  Of course. But we’re also human. And being human means believing in something bigger than the life of one person.

  JS

  Hmm.

  I found myself intuitively agreeing with her but didn’t want to say so until I had thought it through more.

  JS

  I have another question. Do you ever find yourself irrationally afraid of burning in hell for eternity?

  JENNA

  No.

  JS

  Didn’t think so.

  TueJul12

  Enough of this. I’m going to see Alexander Park.

  He wasn’t in the garage when I got there. The HOOcap on duty said he was on a date or something. I don’t know why that made me feel jealous. I sat on the couch and made the HOOcap uncomfortable by staring. AP woke me up around 2 a.m. He smelled pleasantly of candles. The HOOcap was asleep at his desk.

  AP

  Why are you here, Jane?

  JS

  I want back in.

  AP

  Blunt as usual.

  I held eye contact.

  AP

  Come on, Jane. Even if I could, it’s a terrible idea, considering the mess we’re in.

  JS

  You miss having me on the show. This is the best idea in the world, and you know it.

  AP groaned. He hates being wrong almost as much as I do. We’re more alike than I thought.

  AP

  Do you have any idea the sort of headache that would cause me? What would I say to the dean? I can’t just let you back on the show. You know I can’t change the rules halfway through.

  JS

  I’ll help with the headache, I promise. But you’ve managed to get Elbow River a weekly spot on TV—​the dean will fold your underwear and powder your balls if you ask him to. And I’m not asking you to change the rules. I’m asking you to announce a surprise twist.

  AP

  What twist?

  JS

  After Thursday’s voting ceremony, you’ll be down to the final two.

  AP

  Yeah?

  JS

  At the end of the next episode, you could announce that one of us is coming back. Voted in by the public.

  I watched him digest the idea.

  AP

  But I couldn’t guarantee you’d make it back in.

  JS

  You wouldn’t have to. I’d get the votes.

  AP

  You’re pretty confident.

  I shrugged. Confidently, I hope.

  JS

  Think of all the publicity. The four of us would be campaigning across the school, as well as outside of it. We’d be doing the work for you. And you could drag out the show until the end of August.

  AP

  I have a contract with CityTV . . .

  JS

  Renegotiate.

  AP looked me in the eye.

  AP

  Why do you want back in?

  JS

  You know why.

  I’m not finished with the show, and I’m not finished with Robbie. I have a debt to pay, a car to win, fans to awe, and everything to prove.

  AP sighed.

  AP

  Let me think about it.

  JS

  When will you make a decision?

  AP

  Watch Monday’s episode. You’ll know then.

  As I left, AP smacked the sleeping HOOcap with a newspaper. I smiled.