“Should we be concerned?”
James’s roommate Lolanda was eccentric, and the pair did not get along. Her roommate couldn’t take a joke.
If you said something funny like “well, I’ll be a monkey’s uncle,” she’d respond with, “While primates and homo sapiens share a common ancestor they are too genetically dissimilar to ever mate. Even if they were able to mate, the likelihood of carrying viable offspring to term is next to none, making it unlikely that you become the uncle of a monkey. Furthermore, and admittedly, I have no empirical evidence, but given our current living situation, I am operating on the belief that your sex is female. That would make the English relational pronoun aunt. So even if you were able to overcome any genetic barriers, you’d still be a monkey’s aunt.” And then she would inevitably crack a big smile that would fall by degrees as silence filled the room.
Yep. Like I said—eccentric.
Odie threw me a look and shook her head.
“Probably. But in all seriousness, she probably just went to Spence early to grab something to eat. You know James can eat her body weight in food and never gain a pound.”
We arrived at Odie’s friend’s room and the door was wide open, boxes and one duffle bag dotting the floor and an empty bed in the corner.
Lucy noticed me eyeing it and piped up. “Feel free to pop a squat. My roommate isn’t coming back till Sunday night, just in time for class on Monday.”
She stopped tucking the corners of the bedsheet and turned toward me, hand extended. “Lucille Love.” She squinted her eyes and added, “If you make an I Love Lucy joke, we’re not gonna be friends.”
I flashed my broadest smile. She was funny but . . . Love?
Why did that last name sound familiar? When I really looked at her, I realized she had the same oval face, same deep-set brown eyes, and same sienna brown complexion as Charlie Love.
I could see her watching me put the pieces together. “You’re Charlie’s sister, right?” I blurted.
She rolled her eyes that looked just like his—or rather his eyes that looked like hers, as she had to be older—and sighed. “Guilty.”
My head was spinning. Because if there was one thing I’d learned for certain over this past week, it was that Odie Mae hated Charlie Love completely.
Charlie had continued to plead for Odie’s attention in great and small ways the entire week. And she had continued to operate as if he were invisible.
The only thing worse than watching Odie ignore Charlie was the few times she’d broken her silence and acknowledged him.
On Tuesday, she had leveled him with a glare and told Charlie, a biology major, that the mitochondrion in her body hated each and every mitochondrion in his body.
On Thursday, she told him she hated his cytoplasm too because there was no space in between her mitochondria that did not hate his guts.
It was awkward as hell but I watched with a kind of morbid curiosity. He seemed perfectly content to self-flagellate on the altar of Odessa and I knew there had to be more to the story than the nothing Odie had told us.
My curiosity exploded and my head bounced between Lucy and Odie in a way that felt cartoonish even to me. “Not to be too forward, but, um . . . how does that work?”
“What do you mean? Odie not speaking to Charlie and all?” Lucy shrugged half-heartedly. “Easy. We both think my brother’s an idiot.”
Odie cracked a smile but her eyes looked a little sad.
Lucy unpacked an 8-track player and popped in a tape.
Music filled the room the sound of the Shirelles crooning about boys kissing girls floated over us and Odie shot me a grin and wagged her eyebrows. I hid my face in the book I was putting away.
I stayed with Odie and Lucy for the rest of the morning listening to them trade stories about growing up in Charleston. There was something soothing about being in the company of friends that knew one another well. I was content to unpack knick-knacks and listen. They’d lived next door to one another their entire lives. Odie said she’d been more devastated when Lucy moved away to college than when her brother Buck had gone a year later.
“Oh! Remember when you and me and Charlie and Buck went to the fair and we ate so many of those dogs on a stick that I thought we were gonna be sick!”
They doubled over laughing.
“How about the time somebody put the snake in the cigar box stank-breath Mr. Turner kept in his desk drawer? Always smelling like those stinky cigars and getting right in your face.”
“Somebody?” Odie asked her, raising her eyebrows dubiously. “We all know it was—”
“They never did catch who did it.” Lucy sniffed.
I burst into laughter at Lucy’s denial and Odie shook her head.
My stomach growled and I realized that I’d missed breakfast and was ravenous.
Odie looked up from where she sat on the floor organizing shoes under Lucy’s bed, smiled, and shooed me with her hands.
“Get outta here, little helper. Me and Lucy have more catching up to do and you should eat.”
We exchanged goodbyes and Lucy surprised me by giving me a hug and making me promise I’d visit her with Odie in the coming week.
I headed to the cafeteria, keeping a lookout for James, or if I was being honest, Trevor.
Wouldn’t it be nice to run into him early? Maybe we could have lunch together and dinner together. Don’t be greedy, Daisy, I reminded myself.
You’ll see him for dinner. And you’ll have all night.
Well not all night, I cringed, flustered. It wasn’t going to be that kind of date.
Neither James nor Trevor were around and the cafeteria wasn’t as crowded as I’d expected with all the other students returning today.
I found a table near the windows and dove into the roast beef sandwich they’d made from last night’s pot roast.
After a while I got that familiar Green Valley lunchroom feeling and looked around to see if I was being watched. I told myself that I was being paranoid but when I looked over to my left, I saw that I was not.
Trevor was nowhere around but Julian—in all his beautiful, horrible glory—was sitting there staring at me.
Really staring. And not in a way that made me feel warm or hot and bothered; he was examining me. Eyes squinted, brows furrowed, head tilted, like I was the missing factor in an equation he was trying to solve. I didn’t really know what to make of Julian. His apology seemed sincere but . . . first impressions were hard to overcome.
I stared back for a second widening my eyes meant to convey “stop staring at me.” Usually being caught was all it took for a person to look away, but Julian, ever the rebel, just continued to stare.
After a moment I shrugged my shoulders, looked away, and returned to my sandwich. If Julian wanted to look at me there was nothing I could do about it. I’d mention it to Trevor later but I refused to let anything get in the way of me enjoying this day.
When I returned to Jubilee there was a note on my door from our dorm mother, Mrs. Johnson. The message inside was succinct.
“Call Dolly.”
I’d elected to not have a phone in my room for this very reason. I didn’t want Dolly calling me every day checking in.
I would call Dolly, later. I was sure she just wanted to see how I’d been settling in and I would happily tell her I was doing great. And she’d mentioned on the drive up that I’d need to call her to provide my student account number so she could wire my tuition payment.
So yes, I would call my sister but . . . not now.
Right now, I needed to set myself up for success. Taking a piece of advice Trevor had given me on Monday, I pulled the calendar off my desk, and began setting up blocks of study time, color coding by class to keep them straight.
He also mentioned that I should try to visit my teachers the first week during their office hours, introduce myself, let them know I was double majoring, and ask for tips on how to be successful in their class.
“Isn’t that suc
king up?” I’d playfully ribbed.
“Absolutely!” he said with a wink.
Then he added, “But seriously, professors usually go out of their way to help you. They don’t get any benefit from seeing us fail and if they know you’re double majoring they may give you tips on where to focus your attention. That will save you a world of time when it comes time for exams. Now don’t get me wrong, some won’t—I don’t want you to think it’s all roses—or should I say, daisies—all the time, but most will be very helpful.”
My grin at his help, his concern, and his little joke had been enormous, and I’d thanked him for all his advice.
He’d bitten the left corner of his bottom lip and then he’d smiled and said, “Well thank you for your trust in me. I want you to know that I’m never going to steer you wrong, Daisy.”
Those words had made my heart fly and blood rush everywhere.
I felt myself smile at the memories of that day for maybe the millionth time this week. The ridiculous conversation about popsicle sticks, our tumble into the grass, his kindness and intelligence, and the way he’d talked to me about student life had been little gifts that my mind opened at random intervals throughout the day.
I checked my watch again for the sixty-fourth time that day. It was only 2:46 p.m. Waiting another three hours and fourteen minutes to see him felt unbearable.
Therefore, a nap was in order.
Someone was shaking me. “Daize! Get up! It’s almost five, you are going to be late!”
I gasped, sitting straight up.
“Well, she’s up now,” James said drily from somewhere in the room.
She was right, I was suddenly AWAKE.
It was time.
Actually, it was past time, I realized as Odie’s words sank in. I tore my scarf from my head and jumped out of bed in one smooth motion.
In a rush, I began grabbing my things to head to the shower. Odie’s stomach growled loudly and in the back of my mind her discomfort registered.
“Didn’t you go to the cafeteria?”
“No,” she said with an odd finality.
I paused one foot in and the other outside the door.
Concern for my friend warred with my need to jump in the shower. I debated if I’d have time to whip up something for her to eat really quickly.
“Long story and we don’t have time for it right now. Go get in the shower,” James added seeming to read my mind.
I took the quickest shower of my life and was back in my room ten minutes later.
I immediately began plying Odie with snacks; I did not want a hungry beautician doing my makeup.
While I’d been away, James had pulled one potential outfit off its hangers and tossed it haphazardly onto my bed. She was still inspecting another two.
“The ruffles on this one are going to make you look like a rejected member of The Jackson 5.”
She tossed it on my bed.
Okay. Well, not that one then.
“I guess it’s the red hotpants with the orange bra-top.”
She was shaking her head before I’d finished the sentence.
“No. That's not going to work. You said you were going for hot and fun. You're not going to look hot, you’re going to look like an actual flame if you wear those red pants with blue stitching and an orange top."
I grumbled. She was right but it was five fifteen and I didn’t have time to look for a new outfit.
I was about to launch into defense of the ruffles when I saw that James was looking at me with that glint in her eye and then she smiled like she was up to absolutely no good.
Odie was munching on a breakfast bar and hiding a smile.
“What am I missing?” I said, tugging the ends of my robe a little tighter.
“Now don’t be mad,” James started, “but you've been excited about this all week. And well . . . you're the first one of us to go out on a real date. A college date. And maybe we got a little carried away . . .”
Odie chimed in excitedly, “We don't mean to pry. At all. And Lord knows we understand.”
“What in the world are y'all talking about?”
Wearing secretive smiles, Odie and James ran to my closet and rummaged around before emerging, each concealing something behind their backs. With a flourish, Odie revealed a medium size bag and James a smaller one.
“We got you a gift! A new outfit for your date!” Odie said excitedly in her breathy voice.
“And shoes too!” James declared.
My face was frozen. I didn’t know what to say or to do. And suddenly my eyes were glassy.
And then inexplicably I was crying, hard.
Now I usually preferred not to cry in front of people. I was an expert at delaying my feelings until I was alone or with my family where it was safe to feel vulnerable.
But these girls . . .
You feel safe with them.
“Oh Daisy, don't cry!” Odie said even more softly that usual as she looked at James with alarm.
And then suddenly my two friends were there surrounding me, hugging me.
“I'm sorry. This is just . . . this is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me.”
Anyone outside of my family, that is.
Someone buy me a gift?
The rich girl?
Please.
Never.
It wasn't even about the gift. It was the thoughtfulness that I appreciated.
“It's not charity, Daize, please don’t cry,” Odie pleaded.
“Charity?” I asked stepping back and taking a deep breath to quell my tears. They took a seat on their bed and I sat on mine, lovingly touching the braided straps of the bag marked Berkmann’s.
“James and I . . . we noticed that you don’t talk about your folks much, or where you're from or what they do. And we thought . . . Well, we both know what it’s like to come from humble beginnings.”
Oh no. A prickle of dread shot through me, making my stomach clench.
“You deserved to have something special for tonight. So we pooled our money.”
Oh no.
Guilt cloyed at my throat making my heart race and my throat clog. I was struggling to breathe and the tears were back for a very different reason.
Tell them. Tell them. Tell them. My brain chanted.
I can’t. Not now. Not after what they’ve done for me.
“Oh Daisy.” I saw James exchange a sympathetic look with Odie and the tears I’d been holding back spilled over.
“There is no reason at all to feel ashamed,” she said grabbing my hand and squeezing tightly.
Oh there is every reason in the world to feel ashamed. They’ve pooled their money together to buy something for me.
Oh no.
“This is what friends do for each other,” she added trying to be helpful.
Tell them. Tell them!
They’ll understand.
My friends looked at me with so much empathy, so much trust, and kindness.
And I realized I’d made a grievous mistake.
They won’t understand. How could they?
The second jarring realization was that there was a Lie Meridian, an imaginary line which one crosses after telling a certain number of untruths that, once crossed, means revealing the lie cannot be navigated without hurt feelings and broken trust. The realization that I’d sailed past that line before I even knew it existed was earth-shattering.
I have to tell them, but not now. When I have time to explain and make my case, and definitely not right before this date. I will tell them later.
“Thank you,” I managed to croak. “This is the nicest thing anyone has ever given me,” I added, feeling like I owed them at least that truth.
Odie gave a relieved little laugh. “But you haven't even opened it yet, go on.”
So I did.
What I pulled from the bag in delicate pink paper was the sexiest black jumpsuit I'd ever seen.
I let out an audible gasp at the soft silky material with a herringb
one pattern. It had a deep V in the back almost down to the tailbone. But the front was modest with a keyhole cutout at the bosom and sweet bows on the shoulders.
“It’s so gorgeous,” I said touching it longingly, lovingly. “How much did it cost?” I demanded. Somehow I’d figure out a way to pay them back. Even if they never knew it was me.
“Nah-ah,” Odie said in a sing-song voice. “It is remarkably bad form to tell how much a gift cost.”
“It’s bad form to ask too.” James leveled me with a look and then burst into laughter.
“Besides it’s not as bad as whatever you’re thinking. James told me she charmed the pants off the sales guy, and I’ve seen the receipt—she ain’t lying!"
James gave an unrepentant shrug.
“Now let’s get you into this thing!” James said.
“Don't you move a muscle!” Odie commanded—well as commanding as Odie’s voice got. “James, you just hold your horses. She won’t be touching that outfit until I’m done with her. Jamesy, you do something different with her hair, while I do her face,” Odie directed, going into full director mode.
I lay my gorgeous jumpsuit on my bed, tissue paper beneath it, and then plopped down on the bed opposite. James began grabbing hair pins from a ceramic dish on my dresser as Odie started laying out my makeup—plus things I’d never seen before that must’ve belonged to her. Odie’s face, usually lit with a soft smile, took on an expression of intense concentration as she got to work on me.
While she worked, Odie told me everything I missed during my nap. After they’d finished unpacking, she and Lucy had headed to The Wall which, according to Lucy, was the place to be on Fridays. It had been crawling with folks, talking and catching up. Music played, fraternities and sororities stepped. There were even a few vendors selling food, drinks, and knick-knacks.
“And this happens every Friday?”
“Yes! Just about, while the weather holds. And Lucy told me there’s a block party every Friday night. And lots of after-parties too. She told me about this club we have to try called The Met,” she said waving her brush theatrically.
Upsy Daisy: A First Love College Romance Page 16