by Rachel Shane
My breath caught. Thanks to my dad being an eye doctor and constantly stopping people in the street to compliment their lenses, I had a thing for glasses. “I didn’t know you wore those.” I admired the expensive frames.
“I ran out of contacts. And someone never got me the colored ones I asked for.” He let out his cute, raspy laugh.
“I have them in my room. But you never mentioned a prescription.” My dad had sent me a pair of gray ones because that was the only color he had extras of.
Corey hopped up. “Let’s go. Right now. I can’t go another second without them in my eyes.”
I snorted but pulled on my jacket anyway. Maybe if I gave Corey the contacts, they would act as a seam between October and the present, sewing time together like two pieces of fabric and erasing the month between in the process.
“When we come back,” Corey said to Bianca in the doorway of her room, “You won’t recognize me!”
“I’m sure I’ll manage,” she deadpanned.
The two of us headed to my dorm room, skimming past snow packed ankle-high along the carved out sidewalks.
He’d never been in my dorm, and his head swiveled as he took in the entire space. I held my head high, stepping over the clothes dotting on the floor. Shoes spilled out of my open closet. Whenever I brought a friend over, I’d rushed to tidy up, kicking the mess inside the closet. But now I felt solidarity with him. His room was always in the same state of disarray. However, at least I’d made my bed that morning. “Wow, it’s…messier than I expected. I thought you’d be a neat freak.”
I rolled my eyes. “I’m an artist. I thrive on chaos.” I gestured to one of my works in progress leaning against the windowsill where color splattered across the canvas. The image depicted a portrait of Fallon with blues and greens and purples used in place of her blond hair in thick brush strokes. My current obsession for my painting minor was using unconventional colors to display expected objects as an experiment to convey whether the viewer could still tell the hair was meant to be blond even though I hadn’t used any yellow anywhere. The motif had seeped into my animation classes too, and I’d taken to hand painting the textures for the scenes instead of choosing stock ones inside the animation program. It gave the finished renders the feeling of watching a moving painting.
“Now where the hell did I put the contacts?” I fumbled through my desk, bypassing old sketchpads and flash drives.
Corey sprawled out on my pale blue bed, hands clasped behind his head. His snowy shoes dangled off the side out of courtesy. He watched me intently as I rummaged through every drawer and crevice I could find in my room. “You haven’t checked your underwear drawer yet. I’ve been waiting for you to start throwing panties around.”
I slammed another drawer shut. “You say that as if you haven’t already seen every pair I own.”
After another ten minutes of searching, I found the contacts stuffed into my school bag. I must have thrown them in there back in October and had been carrying them around ever since.
I held them out to him, liquid sloshing in the little bubble that housed them.
He put one in his eye, blinked a few times, then held up the camera app on his phone to check it out. “Wow. It looks awesome.”
His eyes were normally hazel-brown, but the gray became a unification agent. It harmonized the color and invented a shade Photoshop couldn’t possibly replicate.
He closed the contact case.
“Aren’t you going to do the other eye?”
He shook his head and jammed his second eye shut. “I like it like this.”
I let out a laugh. But I sort of liked it like that too. Mismatched, like us.
His arms wrapped around me and he held me for a few moments, our hearts synchronizing. Things were different now. Even the air felt charged with electricity, like it was full of something instead of just empty.
We didn’t have sex. We didn’t even kiss. We could have, but that would have spoiled everything the moment offered. It was being there with him, so natural, so in tune with each other. This wasn’t just about sex anymore.
We went back to Bianca’s room where she shrieked and called Corey a freak for his one gray eye.
“I like it. It suits you,” Erin said from her perch on her bed.
The four of us lounged in Bianca and Erin’s room, chatting about nothing in particular—Greek life gossip on campus, who was hooked up recently, what Beta Chi planned to do to get back at their rival frat pranksters, our finals schedule, whether Corey could get Erin a date for formal. Bianca had asked Nate to go with her—as a friend, of course—and we all formulated ways she could reveal her feelings at the event or in the hotel room after. Even Corey offered suggestions without freezing up at the prospect of Bianca dating someone else. “I’m telling you, just turn on the shower, get all soapy, then poke your head out the door and invite him to join you. He’ll get the message just fine.”
Bianca rolled her eyes at that suggestion.
“How about when he’s in the bathroom brushing his teeth, you—” I said.
“So romantic,” Erin interrupted.
I threw a pillow at her. “Light a bunch of candles around the room. Play some swoony music, the score from a romantic drama or something. That way when he comes out, the mood will be all set, you’ll be standing there in your pretty dress, lit by the glow, your back turned to him. Ask him to help with your zipper. He’ll slide it down your back slowly and—”
Corey cleared his throat. “Note to self: bring candles to formal.”
Bianca slumped back on the bed. “I can’t do any of that. It’s all so forward.”
“Just talk to him then,” Eric said, the voice of reason. “Tell him how you feel.”
“Do it under the moonlight for maximum romance potential,” I added.
But I knew what Bianca really wanted: him to make the first move. I gave myself my own note to self: suggest to Corey to plant that idea in Nate’s head in advance.
Erin’s wrist step tracker vibrated with a silent alarm. “Oh crap. We have chapter in a few minutes.”
Corey stood up and shrugged on his orange jacket. “Guess that’s my cue to leave.” He winked one gray eye and swooped me into a big hug before heading downstairs.
At the chapter meeting, I settled into my spot in the back beside Bianca and Erin, laptop warming my legs.
“As you know,” our president, Layla Davies, said once everyone quieted down, “Elections for next term’s president begin when we return from winter break. I’ve decided to run for a second term.” She pushed her black bob behind her pointy ears.
Most of the girls in the room lifted their fingers into appreciated snaps. Bianca and I rolled our eyes. Layla was part of one of the cliques that steered clear of mine. She hadn’t liked me from the very first moment, because I was a legacy in this house thanks to my mom and Layla felt that meant I hadn’t earned my spot like she had. It didn’t matter to her that my mom was dead and this was the closest I ever felt to her.
“That’s because she doesn’t have anyone to live with next year,” Bianca whispered under her breath. I giggled. Presidents always got the biggest single room in the house with the en suite bathroom.
Layla’s eyes shifted to us, narrowing to slits. A few of the other girls turned their attentions our way. Blood rushed to my face. We pressed our lips together, staring straight ahead as if we did nothing wrong.
“I hope you all choose to vote for me.” It sounded more like a threat than a campaign. Layla smoothed down the front of her fitted blue sweater. “And now: formal.”
More snaps erupted from the audience.
“If you haven’t booked your room already, make sure to do so immediately. The room block ends tomorrow. And for the sophomore girls, remember seniors and juniors get first dibs on king bedrooms. I’ve been informed by some of the upper girls that there were no more kings available when they tried to reserve. So if you have one, please give it up.”
My throat
tightened. Bianca had called and reserved the rooms for me, her, and Erin, even though Erin didn’t quite have a date yet. She’d booked me a king. I turned to her and bit my lip.
She shook her head. “Don’t you dare switch, this rule has always been stupid.”
It didn’t seem stupid to me though. The older girls had seniority. I would get their privileges when I paid my dues at the bottom of the ranks. Sometimes I felt my place in the sorority wavered on a flimsy foundation, like the three little pig’s house. One giant gust of wind and everything would crumble to the ground, leaving me no place to call home.
“And I must remind everyone—the Greek Organization has issued a strict formal safety policy to all fraternities and sororities. No drinking for anyone under age twenty-one.” A few snickers erupted under low breaths in the room. We all knew Layla only decreed this because our alumni officer sat next to her on the ornate couch. But the alumni officer wouldn’t be at formal. “And no one—drinking or not—is allowed to get into a car once you arrive at the hotel. We’re providing transportation to and from the venue for a reason. If you leave, there will be consequences.” She paused for dramatic effect. “Snap if you understand.”
My fingers involuntarily joined each other until the friction between them sounded off my term of agreement.
Bianca and I spent the days before formal getting ready. We raided the sorority kitchen and mixed homemade facials out of olive oil, oatmeal, and egg. We filed our nails and covered them in pattern wraps that matched our dresses. I did thousands of sit-ups that left my abs pissed off at my body. Fancy new lingerie arrived at my dorm via two-day shipping.
On the day of the actual affair, Bianca, Erin, and I took a cab to the mall to get our hair and makeup done. Erin had turned down all of Corey’s offered potential dates, claiming it was too incestuous for three Rho Sigs to be dating Beta Chi brothers. She opted instead to take a guy named Harrison Wagner, who Holly McKenna introduced her to. Holly’s name stung every time I heard it even though Corey claimed he’d only gone to her formal as a favor.
I could barely sit still in my chair at the salon. Anticipation bubbled in my belly. Since I usually blew dry my hair stick-straight like the rest of the cookie cutter girls on campus, I asked for soft waves that feathered out along my face, framing it in a delicate romantic coif.
“You guys, we’re going to have so much fun tonight!” Bianca said in her usual manner of emphasizing the adjective in the sentence for a dramatic effect. She turned her head side to side to check out her hair’s progress in the mirror.
“I think that depends,” Erin said, sitting in her chair with perfect posture, “On whether my date is actually fun or not.”
“You can always dance with us. Just like at Quigley’s,” I said.
Our hair took longer than anticipated, so we had to haul ass over to the make-up counter. Bianca kept checking to make sure her updo remained in place as we power walked through the food court. Erin’s hair was at an awkward length due to her growing it out, so her hairstylist pinned her hair into springy curls in a random array on her scalp. My hair was down and free.
We each plopped into chairs at the corners of the rectangular make-up counter. I couldn’t see Bianca’s or Erin’s progress like I could when we were getting our hair done, but I overheard Bianca ask for subtle taupes because her dress was a glitzy teal and she wanted to balance it out. Erin’s request remained a mystery.
“So what do you want today, Miss?” The attendant asked me.
“Dramatic!” I replied with a huge grin. I had my heart set on a complete transformation, something to really make Corey flip.
“What does your dress look like?”
“Slinky black with silver trim. Strapless.”
She leaned back and cocked one eye the way Corey always did. Her hair was pulled back in the tightest ponytail I had ever seen. She had on way too much eyeliner and her foundation powder looked a little cakey. She topped off the look with fire engine red lips. I cringed. This better not be her definition of dramatic.
“Excellent. I know exactly what I’m going to do.” She paused. “If it’s too much I can tone it down after, don’t worry.”
I clasped my hands in my lap. “Um…maybe you should—”
“Relax, you’ll look beautiful.” Those were the magic words.
The attendant’s brush strokes were very similar to the way I painted, mixing various hues together to create a completely unique color, using smaller brushes rather than wider ones so no detail got overlooked, applying the shadow with short staccato strokes all over the eyelid, then layering another color, and another, and another, blending, layering, blending, until the stark white of the canvas was no longer visible and the process could not be recreated by another hand.
Bianca’s make-up looked radiant. Different hues of browns outlined her eyes and complimented her olive complexion. Erin had opted for an almost nude look, all focus drawn to her plump, pinked lips. The outcome of my make up was exactly what I was going for. Soft silvers wrapped my upper lids, just under the brow, and nestled against deeper shades of silver that swept across my actual eyelid. Heavy black eyeliner circled my eyes, but not in a raccoony way. Soft blush grazed my cheeks and matched my red lip-gloss.
When we left the mall, we were running late so Bianca called Corey and told him to give us an extra half hour. No time for lunch. I was anxious to see him and also feeling strange because of my lack of food. Now my stomach only contained butterflies.
THE FORMAL ALWAYS TOOK place in far away locations that wouldn’t sound exotic to the average person, but when you were stuck in bleak, gray, upstate New York, anything off campus seemed magical. When Corey pulled up in front of Rho Sigma, Nate’s head leaned against the passenger seat window. I wrenched open the back door and started to climb in.
“Hold up,” Corey said. “Nate, dude, move into the back with your date.”
“First she takes over my bedroom, now shot gun. What’s next? My body?” Nate grumbled but obliged as he shuffled into the back seat. Bianca beamed a smile at Corey, which helped a little to combat Nate’s glare. Erin’s date would be driving her separately.
Corey squeezed my hand as we sped down the highway. He hadn’t complimented me yet. I wanted him to at least lie and tell me I was beautiful. I wanted him to actually think I was.
Snow slowed down our trip, sticking to the windshield and robbing us of clear vision. Strong winds whipped the heavy flakes in random directions the wipers lost their battle against. By the time we arrived at the hotel, a good foot covered most of the walkways. I stepped strategically into other people’s shoe tracks to avoid getting my pants too wet. Flashes of the last snowfall, Corey’s body heat the only thing keeping me warm, melted into my mind. He and I exchanged mischievous smiles.
“I have a surprise for you,” he whispered into my ear as the warm lobby swallowed us.
Once checked in, Corey jumped in the shower. I rummaged through my bag hoping to find something to eat but came up empty handed. I didn’t even have quarters for the vending machine. I stripped out of my travel clothes and slid on my dress. It sparkled from every angle and hugged my curves, quite a change from the prom I attended with Ryan, where I wore a princess dress too big to fit through the limo door. Now I felt sexy. Worthy. No longer the naive girl who hadn’t known what she was missing. When Corey returned from the bathroom, I was sitting on the edge of the bed, hands clasped in my lap, trying to breathe steadily.
He’d already put on his suit, and my mouth parted at the sight. He looked so clean, so proper, so unbelievably hot. It took all my will power not to jump his bones right there. But Bianca was waiting for us in her room to pre-game.
“You look beautiful.” He grabbed me and kissed me.
At first I didn’t want to mess up my lipstick, but I surrendered to the moment. “So what’s the surprise?” I asked.
He grinned against my lips. “You’ll see later.”
I glanced at the clock. “Okay, i
t’s later.”
“When we get back.” He tugged me toward the door but stopped at the threshold. “Listen, maybe tonight isn’t the best night for Bianca to tell Nate how she feels, okay?”
My stomach dropped like an anvil to the floor. Did he still have feelings for her? “Why not?”
He shrugged. “I tried to feel him out about it like you asked—not mentioned it directly, of course. I get the feeling he’s not into her that way. So I don’t want her to ruin her night.”
I swallowed hard. “Sure. I’ll tell her.”
On our way down to the Bianca’s room, Corey reached into his pocket and pulled out a small coin, which glinted in the overhead lights. At first I thought it was loose change until he stopped, staring at the gold object resting in his hand. Beams of light surrounded the image of an angel.
“My grandmother.” His voice cracked. He took a deep breath. “My grandmother gave this to me. She told me to always keep it with me so I would know she was thinking about me. I thought I’d lost it.” He patted down his pockets like it might reveal more hidden treasures. “The last time I wore this suit was…her funeral.”
I squeezed his hand. I didn’t know what to say, but I thought the moment was beautiful.
Inside Bianca’s room, Nate doled out drinks, beers for the guys and rum and diet for us. Just in case the sorority held to their promise of no underage drinking, we figured we’d get sloshed before the formal to keep the buzz lasting all night. Corey and Nate were the only ones already twenty-one thanks to being a grade above us. Everyone sprawled out among the two queen-sized beds. I eyed Bianca quizzically, wondering why she had booked me a single and taken a double for herself, but she didn’t catch my meaning.
Erin entered a few minutes later, dressed in a long plum gown that accentuated her boyish figure in all the places she needed extra help. When Harrison Wagner stepped inside the threshold, he shoved his hands in his pockets and swayed awkwardly in the doorway. He had smoldering brown eyes that complimented his dark hair, and his tall, lanky, frame stretched almost to the top of the door. Erin coaxed him forward, but he didn’t move as his eyes narrowed into slits.