Not the Girls You're Looking For

by Aminah Mae Safi

  “You’re making fun of me,” Audrey said, before Emma could answer Lulu’s apology.

  “This isn’t about you, Audrey Louise,” said Lulu.

  “You’re making it about me!”

  “You’re both making it about you! And y’all all ditched me.” Emma covered her mouth, as though she couldn’t believe she’d said it. But something unstoppable must have cracked open inside Emma. “I’ve got a newspaper assignment about a freshman on the girls’ varsity volleyball team.” And with that Emma stood, her chair scraping against the floor, and left.

  Nobody could believe it, especially not Lulu. The table broke apart soon after.

  * * *

  The last bell couldn’t save Lulu’s mood. She had texted Emma repeatedly, trying to fix her earlier apology. No response. Lulu, ready for the day to at least be over, trudged to her locker, only to see Audrey waiting against it. Their eyes locked, removing all possibility of a graceful exit.

  “I texted Emma.” Audrey let out a cough. “Nothing.”

  If Audrey was waiting for a confirmation of the same from Lulu, she would remain disappointed.

  Audrey stayed in place, but she looked away, over Lulu’s head. “Are we still fighting?”

  Lulu stared. Audrey finally looked back down and made eye contact.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you or anything. I had no idea you would be so freaked out. It won’t happen again, I swear.” Audrey held her breath. Then she held out her pinkie.

  Perhaps Lulu’s anger the night of Halloween had simply been residual anxiety, left over from the dance floor. Lulu didn’t like feeling helpless, and she didn’t know if she’d been fair to Audrey during their fight the next morning. Going a whole three days without Audrey had been terrible enough. Lulu harbored no desires to prolong the experience. She took Audrey’s pinkie in her own and swore by it. “Fine. You win. I forgive you. You always win.”

  “It’s because I’m adorable, isn’t it?” Audrey flashed an approximation of a charming smile, which she carried off in a hopelessly goofy kind of way.

  “No, it’s because you would be so helpless in the wild without me. I’m your only hope for survival.” Lulu dialed in the combination on her locker, shaking her head.

  Audrey slapped playfully, but overly enthusiastically, at Lulu’s arm. “Shut up. I would so survive in the wild. I’d be, like, Queen of the Jungle. No, Queen of the Whole Wild.”

  “Okaayy,” Lulu drawled. “Sure you would.”

  “Just you wait, Lulu Saad. Just you wait.”

  Lulu’s breath caught. Today was no day for inciting curses. If she’d had any on hand, Lulu would have thrown salt over her shoulder. Atman Rai looked over at the sound. He continued to eye the two girls warily, unsure if theirs was a fight likely to spill over into his small bit of territory. He retreated quickly. Lulu regretted that he had learned to fear her anger.

  Lulu turned. “Wait for what, exactly?”

  Audrey put her hand on her hip, but with that move, her half-on, half-off backpack slid totally off her shoulders and crashed onto the floor. “For me to prove I’d do quite peachily without you.”

  Audrey slung the backpack onto her shoulders, her posture overly correct. Lulu suppressed a stubborn urge. She would fight for the lightness again between them. She flicked at Audrey’s ear. Audrey swatted at Lulu again, this time too lightly to be taken seriously by a casual observer. No one turned to watch; no one slunk away from their playful pugilism.

  “Don’t say that, darling. You’ll break my heart.” Lulu fluttered her eyelids.

  “You have a heart?”

  Lulu barked a laugh. She and Audrey stared at each other for a long instant, both wondering what came next.

  “I got a uniform violation. From Huntley. I’ve got a detention to serve in the next two weeks. Six a.m. time slot of my choice. Like that’s a consolation prize.”

  “She’s heinous; everyone knows it.” Audrey soothed Lulu’s wounds with dismissal.

  Lulu had yet to find the tactic consoling. She slammed her locker shut.

  “I know, it happens to the best of us. Happened to me like three times already. Don’t let it get you down. I mean, blow it off until the last possible moment.”

  “What, like they’ll forget I need to serve it?” Lulu couldn’t believe that.

  “They did for Lo.”

  “Lo could get away with murder if she was still holding on to the weapon and her hands were covered in blood, and you know it.”

  “I know, it’s so unfair.”

  “Maybe,” Lulu said. Lo’s ability to get out of trouble made different demons for her to battle. “Besides, you’d think the administration would be way more worried about educating us than making sure our shirttails were in order. Fascists.”

  Audrey laughed. “Adults, can’t live with them … until you go to college, then you don’t have to!”

  Audrey skipped a few paces ahead, then turned. “Do you need a ride?”

  “Nah, I’ve still got to find that stupid book in the library. After all that, I left without it. I’ll see you later, darlin’.”

  Lulu waved and Audrey waved back with a lightheartedness she would not have thought possible ten minutes earlier. Lulu looked at the stairs that led to the library and groaned. She dropped her bag, tucked her shirt into her skirt all the way around, despite its being after school hours, and then, grabbing her bag back up again, walked up the upper hallway stairs. No need to tempt fate with two violations for the same offense in the same day.

  Lulu turned the corner into the stacks when she saw Dane about halfway down the same aisle. He was bent over and looking through a book. Her stomach dropped. She hoped he wouldn’t look up and notice her there, so she busied herself with finding the book she needed. She felt a pull at her skirt.

  She turned to face Dane, and her stomach knotted further at the memory of him from the Halloween dance. She carried the wild hope that his mind had been too hazy to form a full memory of his actions. Though another part of her wanted to remind him, painfully and acutely, of what he had done.

  “What?” Lulu mouthed the word, trying to indicate that this was no space for a conversation.

  “You don’t have to be so quiet, you know. It’s not like anyone’s here after school.” He spoke a shade above a whisper, loud enough to carry beyond the stack—loud enough for her to know he totally disregarded her wish for privacy.

  She put her hand on her hip, instinctively drawing on her strength, as she continued with her near-silent whisper, using her other arm to direct his gaze across to the other students she saw sitting behind him. “Other than the people studying, you mean?”

  He kept his attention focused directly on her, despite her attempts at deflection. He leaned in. “What are you doing here?”

  “Looking for that Ronsard book for class.” She turned back to her incomplete chore.

  “So touchy.” He poked her in the ribs.

  She stepped away to give him a wide berth. “Not touchy.”

  Lulu moved back toward the call number of the book she needed, maintaining a gap between herself and him as best she could. Her response was curt, rude. The clippedness of her speech felt wrong. But prolonging the moment did not feel safe. Her nerves were on edge; she was sure there was a right response to the situation, she simply didn’t know it.

  She felt breath tickling her ear before she knew what it was, and then heard, quieter than her own whispers, “You didn’t seem to mind so much last time we were this close.”

  His speech finished in his clear, audible whisper, “And you can’t say it was because you were drunk, ’cause we all know you were sober, like the good little girl that you are.”

  Lulu’s body went rigid; she stared with such intensely focused animosity that Dane couldn’t laugh his way out of it. His lips were so close to her own, she could practically feel them.

  “That night wasn’t a yes, Anderson,” Lulu said, her voice as steady as she could make i
t. She took a step sideways, giving herself breathing room. “Once isn’t always or everything.”

  If Dane was put off, it wasn’t for more than an instant. He leaned forward, over the threshold of her personal space. “You wait, Lulu,” he said. “You’ll want it again.” Dane winked, like he knew her little secret. He took the book in his hand and pressed it against her chest, both a mockery and an insinuation.

  At his lewdness, anger flashed through Lulu.

  “But I’ll let you get back to the Romantics of the Renaissance.” And with a lecherous grin, he turned the corner and left.

  Lulu looked down at the title of the book she held. She swore as she exhaled. He’d had the book she had been looking for the entire time. Once at the checkout desk, she presented the book to the librarian, who appraised her with an unfriendly eye and then sent her on her way.

  As she walked out, Lulu looked over to the tables behind the stacks. She saw Emma with a freshman, the one with the bangs. Emma was leaning in and whispering what was clearly a joke, as the other girl giggled in response. Here Emma was joking and laughing with another friend. Leaving them all early from lunch and ignoring Lulu’s texts. And Audrey’s. Emma could have been keeping the peace. She could have been in the library with Lulu, beside Lulu not moments before, providing a buffer against Dane. Lulu swore, moving swiftly out the door before the librarian would decide to do anything more than glare in her direction.

  Lulu wouldn’t think on the feeling calcifying in her chest. The hard pangs that constricted her breathing. She’d have to solve this problem. She’d have to message Lo.

  10

  Love Notes from the Edge

  “I know what you did,” Lulu said to Lo. They both sat on the floor of Audrey’s living room. “But I’m still serving the detention.”

  Audrey and Emma were focused on the TV. Lo didn’t look up. She maintained her focus on the base coat she was applying across Lulu’s nails. Lo had managed to get them to all agree to this slumber party, despite the tension at the lunch table throughout the week. She framed it as a necessary make-up session. Lo finished the base coat and started shaking a bottle of nail polish, making sure the color was thoroughly mixed.

  “I can’t believe you turned down the opportunity to skip a d-hall.” Lo looked back down at Lulu’s nails; she uncapped the polish bottle and set herself to painting. “It was supposed to make you feel better.”

  Lulu’s smile spread across her whole face. She had been right.

  After school on Wednesday, Lulu had gone to Mrs. Carly’s desk to sign up for a detention slot next week. Mrs. Carly could be described as the Sealy Hall office receptionist, but that would be doing her a disservice. If the dean of students’ office had come to life, if student files were the inner workings of a person’s mind—then they only could have in the form of Mrs. Carly. She hadn’t looked up from her work when Lulu had asked for the detention sign-up sheet.

  “Miss Saad, you’ve already served your detention.” It had been a dismissal. At Lulu’s continued presence, Mrs. Carly had looked up and frowned.

  “I have?” Lulu asked.

  Mrs. Carly had pulled out her book. The book. A binder filled with class schedules of every student and teacher, and office hours of all the administrators. A student’s most-recent-quarter attendance and detention records. The book was legendary. As a freshman, Lulu had been told that it was a shortcut for the files each student inevitably had, the ones in the dean’s office. Those had full attendance, behavioral records, a list of friends, known associates, past and current relationships. The scariest part was that Mrs. Carly didn’t need the book; she knew. Mrs. Carly was aware of what a student had done that weekend, probably before they’d done it. Lulu’s current situation had proved most unusual to Mrs. Carly.

  “Right here.” But Mrs. Carly looked skeptical. She appraised Lulu, like she’d never gotten a good look at the girl until that moment. “Says you served under Medina.”

  And that’s when the wheels had clicked into place for Lulu. Because Lo had Medina for advisory. And Lo could, however Lo did any of the things she did, easily persuade Medina to give her all the attendance sheets to take down to the desk. Including his detention hall attendance sheet. No teacher was supposed to do that. But Lo heard cannot and had taken that as a challenge for would. This was exactly the sort of surprise Lo would plan for Lulu. Lo was full of half-cocked plans and ironic pranks. Lo had clearly wanted to give Lulu freedom. Lulu had wanted righteous self-flagellation. She wanted to serve out her punishment, because she felt detentions for uniform violations were truly stupid. And she wanted to prove she knew how stupid they were, from firsthand experience.

  Lulu had harnessed all her upbringing to not squirm under the scrutiny. “I think that must have been an error on Mr. Medina’s part. He must have meant to check in someone else. I know I haven’t served.”

  Mrs. Carly’s frown expanded—giving off the effect that her extant frown had frowned. “You know. I didn’t think you had been in early that morning. Well. I’m going to go check with Dean Knight’s list. You wait right here.” She scurried off into a side office.

  Lulu drummed her fingers against the desk. She looked over—there sat a stack of detention slips. Probably for teachers to quickly grab and restock their supply. On pure impulse, Lulu grabbed a stack of detention slips off the top of the desk—not so many that the stack looked noticeably different—and stuffed them into her bag. The gesture was futile. But it made her feel like she’d stuck it to the man. Whoever “the man” was. She was going to serve her stupid detention. She was going to steal from the front desk. She was not going to be broken by stupid rules or terrible French assignments or dumb boys in libraries.

  Mrs. Carly reentered with a huff. “I’m not sure at all. This is irregular. But, I suppose you wouldn’t sign up for a detention you didn’t have. When did you want, dear?” Mrs. Carly had decided, then. She took Lulu for the honest sort.

  Lulu smiled, placating. “Next Thursday morning. Thanks, Mrs. Carly.”

  Mrs. Carly frowned again. “Well.”

  Lulu had skipped out of the room, flooded with relief. Lulu never wanted to come that close to getting caught by Mrs. Carly again. Her hands trembled slightly with what they’d done. She’d stolen from the front desk. It was a petty thing, but it was still moderately exhilarating and made her detention feel worth it.

  Lulu didn’t feel quite so triumphant now, realizing that not only would she have to wake up before dawn next week to fuel her day, but then she’d have to run out the door and serve a morning detention. Pride had gotten the better of her, unfortunately. At least Lo’s manicure was soothing. Lo finished the last coat of color, then swiftly painted Lulu’s nails with a gel coat.

  “I feel so, so, so, so, so much better. You give the best manicures in the whole wide world.” Lulu smiled from her heart.

  Lo preened under the compliment. Then, never one to let her feelings get the better of her, Lo waved Lulu away. “Emma, get over here.”

  Emma avoided eye contact with Lulu. But she complied with Lo’s request. Lulu scooted over and blew on her wet nails. They were blue—blue like the pair of hot pants she’d found once in a thrift store and would always regret not purchasing, blue like a shining metallic muscle car, blue like Nightcrawler’s naked, muscular thighs. That was Lulu’s favorite shade of blue. Lulu continued to silently admire her friend’s handiwork.

  Sixteen Candles was playing on the old tube TV. Lulu loved the grainy look of it; it reminded her that she’d been watching the movie since she was a little girl. She liked that feeling of certainty. That she could find a way to make the movie look the same as it always had. All it took was a less-than-desirable television and an old VHS player. Even if she did cringe through half the movie now. There was already enough tension without telling Emma her favorite movie was fairly racist and that its romantic lead facilitated a rape. Maybe she’d tell Emma the next time, when everyone’s tempers had settled down again.
/>   “Doesn’t she remind you of Diana?” Emma watched the screen from where she sat by Lo.

  “Who?” Lulu responded.

  “Randy,” Emma said. She was referring to Molly Ringwald’s best friend in the movie, a girl with black hair, olive skin, and a dark sense of humor.

  “No. Not Randy who. Who-does-Randy-remind-us-of who?” Audrey said.

  “I think she means Bangs,” Lo said, not looking up from Emma’s nails as she worked. She was a stickler for getting the paint just so. She flicked Emma for wiggling. “Bangs’s real name is Diana Agrawal,” said Lo.

  “Ohhh, the freshman girl. With BANGS,” said Lulu. “Got it. Totally up to speed. Really, you think Randy looks like her? Like a freshman? Bangs is darker, and her hair is straighter. I guess she kind of looks like her, but without a perm.” Lulu tilted her head back and forth, trying to compare a fresh mental image with a stored one.

  “Does Bangs wear that much purple?” Audrey asked.

  “Nah, but she’s got the skin tone to pull off a lot of color,” Lo said, still focused on her polishing.

  “You’re so right. I bet she can wear goldenrod,” Audrey said with a sigh.

  “Dude, no one can wear goldenrod,” Lulu said, ever the skeptic.

  “I bet Bangs could,” Audrey said. She was still in a defiant mood, at least when it came to Lulu.

  Lulu had assumed it would take a little bit of time for Audrey to get over it. Lulu should never have questioned Audrey’s autonomy. That would only spell more work for herself in the long run.

  “Randy has epic bangs in this movie. Lulu, if you cut bangs and let your hair go natural, would your bangs do that?” Audrey asked.

  “God. Don’t joke,” Lulu said.

  “She has a name,” Emma said.

  “Who?” Lulu asked.

  “Bangs,” Lo answered at the same time that Emma said quietly, “Diana Agrawal.”

  “Bangs, Diana. Whatever, it’s all the same,” Lulu said.

  Emma frowned. Lo looked up and shook her head at Lulu.

  “Oh, Emma. Don’t worry about it, she won’t ever know we call her Bangs. She’s a freshman.” Audrey looked so sure of herself.