The Broken Hearts' Society of Suite 17C

by LeighAnn Kopans

  So why had she tried to make Lauren fit in to some lesbian girlfriend box that Arielle had constructed for her based on her one and only relationship with bitchy Rachel, who obviously sucked?

  “Welcome to Indiana Northern bid day, PNMs and the sisterhoods who love you!” A particularly chipper Rho Gam crowed into the microphone. Arielle winced at the feedback from the speakers and the Rho Gam giggled. “Sorry. Anyway, the girls knew when they picked me to emcee this shindig that I don’t like to waste any time, so let’s get this party started!” The girl was obviously very comfortable on the stage, grinning as she strode across it with sweeping arm gestures and perfectly timed bounces in her steps.

  “PNMs, you are no longer POTENTIAL new members…soon you’ll be standing with the sisterhood that will carry you through your entire life, from this day on. These are the most important relationships of your life. Maybe even more important than your future husband!” Every girl in the room cracked up, except for Arielle, who winced. The heteronormativity of the Greek life on this campus was something she was definitely going to work to change. Well, maybe. If she found the extra energy.

  Arielle smirked again at the thought. Lauren would have called her out on her proto-activist bullshit right away, except she would smile like Arielle was the most adorable girl for getting annoyed by it in the first place. Arielle’s heart twisted.

  “We’re going to announce for each sorority in order of the Greek alphabet, which you all should have memorized by now,” the Rho Gam said in her sing-songy voice. So first up is Alpha Chi!”

  The butterflies in Ari’s stomach started a rager. So much insanity in one day—her bid, Lauren, Rachel, having to get up on stage in front of everyone—meant that her dearest wish right now involved sweatpants and a cup of chamomile tea. Okay, maybe her second-dearest. Arielle fought the butterflies to scan the crowd one more time, focusing on the back left corner where she’d seen Lauren before. Nothing. She sighed and turned her attention to the positive. Sisterhood, starting in about thirty seconds.

  Her new sisters swarmed the stage, looking like very good sports in black tees and very non-fancy jeans, holding up their posterboards and smiling through their chants. Arielle grinned and danced a little on the spot. Yeah, it was cheesy, but they were all being cheesy together. And something felt so good about being carefree, if only for a few moments.

  The chant involved stomping of some kind, sung to the tune of “Brown-Eyed Girl,” and most of the words were unintelligible except for the periodic “Alpha Chi.”

  Then, “Now it’s time to say goodbye to all those other houses—Don’t Cry!—Theta Pi, Delta Tri, sorry, we chose Alpha Chi!”

  The Rho Gam screamed, “Come on up, new Alpha Chis!” Arielle grinned even harder. Thank God she was so close to the stage, or she might have been lost in the screaming and jumping that filled the room. She shouldered her way past a couple clusters of girls, tripped onto the steps, and right away was folded into one, two, three hugs. It was the best kind of delirious, a breathless, exhausted, crushing, overwhelming kind of happiness of knowing that fifty other girls on campus now considered her one of their best friends—that they’d picked Arielle because of exactly who she was, openly and without question.

  She quickly picked up on the cheer and joined in. One of the huggers, Cat—Arielle recognized her from the second house visit where they’d geeked out over Harry Potter—let her go a little quickly so that she could go hug another new member. Arielle stumbled against another new member and made her apologies, cracking up. She clutched on to the poor girl’s arms to help her stand back up, and as she did, the chant came to an end again. Arielle yelled “Alpha Chi!” right as she raised her eyes directly into Lauren’s.

  Seriously, this bid day was going to give her a heart attack. Lauren’s eyebrows knitted together, pulling deep lines through her perfect skin. “Oh, Ari,” she said, almost moaned, her voice loud enough to hear over the yelling masses of girls. Lauren pulled her hands back. For the briefest second, Arielle’s palms brushed Lauren’s, and everything around them stopped. Then, another soft, sad smile pulled Lauren’s lips up, and all Arielle wanted in that moment was to kiss them. “I should have guessed you’d get this bid. Of course you did. Alpha Chi is perfect for you.”

  “Well obviously it’s perfect for you too!” Arielle realized their voices were raised, just to be heard over the chanting, but she didn’t care. She didn’t want to lose Lauren, not in this moment, and especially not all over again. Didn’t want to lose the chance to do everything she could to make things right.

  Lauren started to step back again, and Arielle lunged to grab her hands. “Don’t go. Please.”

  “I’ve already made up my mind!” Lauren yelled, her eyes growing watery.

  “So have I! I want you to be happy!”

  “Arielle, you know I can’t be happy if we’re in this house together,” Lauren replied, pulling her hands away and heading toward the chapter president, who hugged her tight around the neck. Arielle watched Lauren’s face crumple as she pulled away and handed the president her bid card, then ran off the stage.

  Arielle was frozen in place and confused beyond belief. Given how well she got along with Lauren, she really should have prepared herself for the possibility that Lauren would get a bid from Alpha Chi too—especially since, apparently, Lauren wasn’t telling anyone she was dating any girl, let alone Arielle. But had Lauren just left Alpha Chi because of her? Or for her?

  The noise roared on around her, and Arielle vaguely registered the president, Sydney, listing the names of the new members over the microphone, as if her head were an inch underwater. “Ari, you okay?” Cat was back by her side, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and squeezing tight.”

  “I…” Arielle’s head snapped to the other side of the stage, catching the swoop of Lauren’s hair running down the stairs and to the exit. “I’ll be right back,” Arielle managed, trotting and then running the same path through her new family that Lauren had—except she was planning to come back.

  Damn those long legs of Lauren’s. She was a shadow winding through the halls of the student union, getting further away from Ari every second. Finally, Arielle saw the big glass doors to the outside slide shut just as she rounded a corner, and went barreling through them.

  The frigid January air snapped against her skin, instantly reminding her that she was wearing a dress with very thin hose. She glanced up and a small grainy snowflake drifted into her eye, followed by a dozen more dusting against her face. Then she heard a whimper, and turned behind her to the sidewalk that stretched all the way to her dorm.

  Lauren sat in the middle of the sidewalk twenty or so yards away, looking forlorn. Well, that was a little dramatic, especially for Lauren. Arielle’s feet carried her to Lauren automatically—she couldn’t stay away if she tried. About halfway there, she realized that Lauren was clutching her ankle with one hand, hidden beneath her calf.

  “Jesus! What happened?” Arielle started to jog toward her, and Lauren held out a palm. “Stop, it’s slipper—”

  Before she could finish the word, Arielle’s flats slicked against the apparently unsalted path and sent her butt sliding the remaining couple of feet so that she was in arm’s reach of Lauren.

  “Oh my God, are you okay? Ari, what the hell are you doing out here?” Lauren shakily tried to stand, then apparently decided against it.

  “I don’t have this curvy ass for no reason,” Arielle joked, rubbing her butt anyway. Her tailbone felt fine, thank God, but there would be a big bruise on her behind tomorrow. “I’m gonna help you up, but first you have to get out of those ridiculous shoes.”

  “Shut up. They’re gorgeous, and I didn’t plan on making a mid-bid sprint.”

  Arielle shook her head and tried to keep from smiling too much as she carefully undid the straps of Lauren’s shoes and eased her feet out of them. God, even touching the skin of her feet was sending jolts of electricity through her fingertips. The way Lauren was l
ooking at her made Arielle think that maybe, just maybe, Lauren was thinking the same thing.

  “Think you can stand?” Arielle said, scanning the courtyard for someone bigger than her to help this crazy, impulsive girl she loved so much limp back into the building.

  “Give me a couple minutes,” Lauren said, biting her bottom lip.

  Arielle forced her breathing to stay even. “I’m sorry,” she finally said.

  “For what?” Lauren asked. “Doing exactly what I wanted you to do and signing up for sorority recruitment?”

  “Well yeah, and—”

  “And finding what is obviously the perfect house for you, and finally figuring out what on this campus would make you feel like you belonged somewhere?”

  Lauren was right. Damn her, how did she know all that just from a few shared looks in an overcrowded room?

  “I’m sorry you felt like you had to give up your bid, though.” Even as she said it, she knew how stupid that sounded. The house was relatively small. Would she be able to put up with three and a half years of seeing Lauren across a dining room every day, sitting in chapter meetings every week, taking different girls—or even guys—to formals and socials? No way. It had to be Lauren or Arielle joining Alpha Chi. Not both, or Arielle’s heart would be smashed to pieces all over again.

  Lauren looked at her steadily, as if she knew everything Arielle was just thinking. Then, she shook her head. “I didn’t quit. I made a choice, between something definite and something I hoped for. The thing that was definite would have been good, in a lot of ways, but the thing I hoped for would be so much better.”

  Arielle’s cheeks turned red and she wanted to smile and throw up at the same time. “I mean…I know the sure thing is Alpha Chi, but…” her fingers played at the straps of Lauren’s shoes, and she was barely aware of her ass getting wetter and colder by the second as she sat there on the icy sidewalk. She didn’t really care. She would have waited forever for Lauren to say the words she wanted to hear.

  Then Lauren’s fingers brushed hers, picking them up gently, like she was testing something. Arielle looked up at her, reminding herself to breathe. “I’m sorry. Okay? I was stupid.”

  Arielle scoffed. “No, I’m the one who—”

  “Sorry, your Mack-truck approach to conversations is not going to fly this time,” Lauren said, her face stern but teasing. “I was being a freak about the rules. And, yeah, I was scared. I knew what Rachel did to you, and I knew how that killed you. And I felt bad, but at the same time…I don’t know. I thought all the sororities were maybe like that, and I didn’t want to ruin my chances before I found out how I really felt.”

  “About me?” Arielle dared to ask.

  “No, stupid. About being in a sorority. Whether it was really for me.”

  “And now that doesn’t even matter, because you gave up your bid.”

  “Yeah, I gave it up because I didn’t think I could stand to look at you every single day without losing my mind.”

  “Because you hate me,” Arielle said, pulling her hand back and sighing. She shakily got to her feet, ready to get Lauren inside no matter what it took so that she could say her goodbyes.

  “Oh my God, you’re a steamroller and a numbskull, apparently. Because I love you, you idiot. I should be pissed that you left me without letting me explain myself better, and I should make you apologize.”

  “I know, I have a lot of work to do, with trusting you better. I’m trying. I mean, I promise to try harder. It just felt so much like what happened before that I couldn’t even see clearly. But now I do, I think, and I…”

  “Ari. Seriously. Yes, you acted crazy. But I get it. I promise. And there’s one thing I know for sure now—there’s no way I could join Alpha Chi, because seeing you every single day and not being able to be with you could turn even the most perfect place into hell.”

  Arielle hadn’t even realized the tears were coming until she felt one roll down her cheek and grow frigid against her chin. She bent at the knees and thrust her arms underneath Lauren’s, hauling her up with a seriously mighty core effort, relishing the feel of Lauren’s body against hers as she gained her footing on her good leg and what seemed like a little pressure on the foot she’d hurt.

  Then she looked up at Lauren and saw tears rolling down her cheeks, too. Arielle’s mouth opened to speak, but now it was Lauren steamrolling her. “I blew it, didn’t I? I mean, you hate me now, right? God, I’m such a bitch, I knew what happened to you at the beginning of the year and I—”

  It was all Arielle could do to squeeze Lauren tight, lift her three inches to the right to stand on the non-slippery grass, and lay a big, shivering kiss on those gorgeous lips. Lauren whimpered and pushed her fingers up through Arielle’s hair, melting into the kiss and making the fact that it was about fifteen degrees outside completely irrelevant. They were two perfectly fitted puzzle pieces who had found their way back together again.

  And, given that the sidewalk Lauren had slipped on was directly outside the long windowed wall of the room where bid day was being held, they were now as public with their display of affection as any two girls at Indiana Northern could possibly be. Finally, Lauren pulled back, her eyes still closed. But for some reason, Arielle glanced to the right, and saw it all. Staring at them, having just come off the stage from their bid announcement, was every single sister of Alpha Chi. And they all had humungous smiles on their faces.

  When they started to cheer, Arielle almost burst into big fat sobs.

  “God, this sucks,” Lauren said, looking up and blinking against the fat flakes that fell and dotted her bangs, her eyelashes, her shirt over the jut of her breasts.

  Oh, shit. This was probably exactly what Lauren hadn’t wanted. What if she wanted to rush again, or claim another bid, or just keep the whole fact that she liked girls quiet for a little while longer? “I’m so sorry, I didn’t even realize we were right next to—”

  Lauren lifted an index finger to Arielle’s lips, and the feel of it made Arielle weak in the knees, stopping her words on her tongue.

  “I was just going to say, this snow is not as romantic as the rain was.”

  Arielle shook her head and grinned. “I guess you’re allowed to keep up this new interrupting thing if you’re going to say things like that.”

  Who gave a damn about the cold and the wet and the cheering new sorority girls? They had time for at least one more kiss. And once they got inside, they’d have all the time in the world.

  Amy

  Five weeks into Spring semester classes, and it was the first day in months that the temperature went above freezing. That morning on the way to class—Sex and Sexuality in American Cinema—she’d heard a bird singing, and felt something small, but clear, shifting inside her. Now she stood in front of the list she’d made with Arielle the day her heart had been broken again, despite her best efforts. It was a self-discovery to-do list, which, when it was finished, was basically a rundown of everything Amy had ever avoided doing because it had scared the snot out of her.

  She’d been waiting for that click, that small shift in thinking, to really look at the list, to assess her progress. After an initial few days of panic over the list itself, she’d started asking Rion and Ari to cross things off it when she’d well and truly done them. “Career prospects,” “Church,” and “Dad” had been the big ones, the ones she’d been most afraid of, if only because she realized that each of those issues had bunch of subheadings, each one as scary as the last.

  It turned out that the little things had subheadings, too. That was harder, because it took her by surprise. “Ice skating” had seemed easy enough until she had to do it alone. She’d started crying before she even fell for the first time. She later realized it was because she’d never fallen from ice skates before, let alone fallen doing anything where there wasn’t someone right beside her to help her up again. When she finally did fall, then managed to stand up again all on her own, she felt like her heart would burst out of her ches
t. That little achievement pushed her to do things like go out for ice cream alone, volunteer for an organization she knew nothing about, doing something she had no experience in. Wearing an outfit she loved yet worried made her stand out too much, to dinner with the Society. She read a book full of swear words that Rion had given her, Silver Linings Playbook, and realized she really didn’t notice them after awhile because the characters tugged at her heart harder than the profanity punched her in the gut.

  For someone who grew up thinking that profanity was one of the worst sins someone could commit, this was a big deal.

  The urban planning class she’d signed up for spring semester as an alternative to another history class, in an attempt to avoid the horribly depressing study of wars and genocide, turned out to be the best decision she’d ever made. The truth she thought she’d known her whole life—how poor people were poor and unhealthy because they were lazy and stupid—was challenged from the first class, which focused on social justice. It turned out that if a neighborhood of poor people included things like a preschool and a decent supermarket, their health, and job acquisition and retention, improved dramatically.

  The night after that first class, she’d cried at the realization that every child in the country didn’t have a safe home, a place to learn colors and letters and sing songs, and fresh fruit and vegetables. The next morning, she’d sat in her advisor’s office and mapped out an entire strategy for majoring in urban planning with a focus on nonprofit organizations. The week after that, her professor had gotten her an internship with the Fair Housing Center of Northern Indiana. It had taken her one day of interning at the Fair Housing Center to know that she was head-over-heels in love with the work they did there. Just like it had only taken her one day of volunteering at the university’s day care center to know that not only did she not want to be a preschool teacher, but she didn’t want to have children of her own for a very long time.