Shatter (Club Grit Trilogy)

by Brooke Jaxsen

  “All I’d ever wanted...was a place to call home here,” I admitted. “It sucks at UCBH if you don’t have a group. It does. I tried to do the whole “GDI” thing on my own, but everyone knows that there’s a reason they call it being a God Damn Independent. The arbitrary reasons we accept sisters into the house seem less so when you consider the requirements to join other groups, like GPA, major, ethnicity, religion. What if I don’t want to associate based on that? What if I don’t want to be known as another Korean girl part of the Asian Students Association? What if I just am not into that? But everyone expected me to come here and be a doctor, and you know my sociology degree hasn’t prepared me for medical school, I thought I could make it work but I didn’t.”

  “We’ve all had that here. We’ve all had dreams and expectations sold to us by pledge week, sold to us by the glossy brochures, dreams dashed, expectations exhausted, but you just have to keep going,” said Laura, reaching her hand out to mine and rubbing it.

  “What if that’s not enough, though?”

  “So what if it’s not? You’re so close to graduating, Kim. You’re so close to the end, and you just have to make it through the next few hard parts and you’ll be fine. You can do stuff with a sociology degree, really. You can go to grad school. You can get a job and do a career thing if you want. You can do a lot and you have no idea how smart you are. You’ve got a lot of great skills that you take for granted,” insisted Rina. I felt stupid but tears were welling in my eyes. I’m a senior, supposed to be a role model to people like Rina and Laura, not someone that cries to them. They’re supposed to come to me, as Rina had, and not the other way around.

  “You’re right, you’re right. I’m going to make it through,” I said, hoping that just saying it out loud would help me believe in it, hoping that pretending would make things better. All I wanted was for things to be okay but apparently that was a tall order.

  Because what walked in the parlor? Trouble herself: Pearl.

  “Aww, look, it’s a little threesome on the floor,” she said with a giggle and I rolled my eyes. People sat on the floor together all the time and she didn’t say that to them. She must have figured out that Rina and Laura were lesbians, but did she know they were together?

  “Whatever, Pearl. I’ve done what you asked, just let me graduate in peace,” I said as I kept picking up the pieces of my broken symbol.

  “Well, I’m not here to see you, Kim. Not everything’s about you, honey. No, I’m here to see Rina and Laura,” she said sweetly, sweet enough to make my stomach churn because I knew there was only one reason she was using the voice, the voice she used when we kicked out Emma.

  “Whatever you want to say to them, you should be able to say in front of me,” I said back, equally as sweetly. Laura and Rina were watching us, and I knew the fact I had gone from open and sentimental to being like frozen yogurt on a winter’s day, unseasonably icy and sickly sweet, must have given them whiplash.

  “Well, according to the bylines of the rules of the household, there is a strict policy that doesn’t allow partners of sorority sisters to live inside the Omega Mu House. It has come to my attention that Laura and Rina are dating, and this violates that rule, because, as partners, they cannot both live at the Omega Mu house. I have no choice but to kick these two rule breakers out,” she said, matter-of-factly, as if this didn’t have some other motivation.

  “Bullshit. You let other girls have their boyfriends over all the time, and it’s not like it’s an additional burden on the house resources! They’re both sisters at Omega Mu and they shouldn’t have to leave just because you have a problem with homosexuality, a problem that isn’t anyone’s but your owns, a problem you should just deal with and not project about!” I said, letting my anger get the best of me.

  “Well, there is an exception that can be made. If Laura and Rina decide which sister should leave Omega Mu, one of them can stay, as long as the other leaves, by sundown.”

  Laura and Rina, who had wide eyes as they heard Pearl’s decree, Pearl’s demand that they leave, either together or separately, looked at one another and before Laura could open her mouth, Laura held up a finger to her lips. “It’s okay, Rina. I’ll leave. I know how much you like living here and I don’t want to take that away from you. I promise, we’ll make it work.”

  “But Laura! If you’re gone, what are you going to do about housing?”

  “Rina, it’s okay, it’s okay. It’s going to be okay, I’ll stay with friends, I can get an apartment, I can take out a loan for that, it’s going to be okay,” she said, looking at Laura the way Lawrence had looked at me, with eyes filled with the desire to placate, the desire to calm, but unlike Lawrence, I knew Laura wasn’t made of money, and that the things she was promising weren’t things she could necessarily deliver on, nor were they things she should have to.

  I got up from the ground and looked Pearl dead in the eyes. “I think you’re going to want to do things. First of all, take back what you said. Secondly, shut your fucking mouth.”

  “Excuse me? Do you know whom you’re talking to?” she said, narrowing her eyes.

  “I know exactly who I’m talking to, and that’s why I know that you’re going to do this favor for me, Pearl. If you don’t ensure that Laura and Rina’s place within the household will not be affected by their sexuality, then I’m going to do something you’re not going to like.”

  “Is that a threat?”

  “It’s not an empty threat.”

  ‘What could you possibly do to me, Kim? What is there left?”

  “Didn’t anyone ever tell you not to fuck with people that don’t have anything left to lose? You’ve taken everything from me, Pearl. You’ve taken my dignity. You took a chance I had at true love. You’ve pushed my buttons and my limits. You have two options: you graduate in peace and quiet, or the inevitable shit storm starts now. It’s inevitable because you have it coming and oh, honey, it’s coming, it is coming! The files, the emails, everything you’ve done regarding the club that violated both the rules of the PanHellenic Council as well as the sorority’s overall rules? Get prepared for that to be put into a well-thought out report, because it already has been. That’s right, every mean IM about a pledge, every crazy rule, every edict put into place without a vote, that’s all able to get forwarded to the people that matter, to alums, to everyone. I’m sure Laura and Rina’s parents would love to know about the fact you treated them so callously this year, and I wouldn’t even need to mention your homophobia, because if I did, I could accidentally out them. This isn’t blackmail, but this is me giving you a chance to delay the inevitable.” In reality, the reason I’d waited wasn’t out of courtesy to Pearl, but because I wanted to spare the pledges the drama of having reporters and investigators in the dorm around finals weeks. I knew Pearl could make life Hell for everyone if she was pushed over the edge, and I didn’t want anyone to be around for that. An investigation, over the summer, would be more appropriate, and I already had the information and contacts available.

  “So if you’re so miserable here, Kim, why don’t you just fucking quit? Why do you have to take me down with you?” said Pearl, unable to keep up the façade any longer. She knew that she’d pushed me too far, that she was seeing a side of me that she should have been scared of, a side of me that she should have known about, a side that wasn’t about to be put away, left in the dark any longer.

  “I stayed because I had Becca, and I’m staying because I’m going to keep you in check. I know shits hard for you, Pearl, I really do, but it’s no excuse for you to take it out on other people. I know that it can be hard for you to deal with change. I know that you like things to fit in order and look like they do in the movies, but this is real life, and get a fucking grip. I’m trying to.”

  Pearl laughed, the maniacal laugh of somebody pushed a bit too far by the only person that really matters: themselves. “You think that it’s that simple? You think that you can just ‘get a grip’? That you can just ‘deal w
ith things’? That’s not how things work, in the real world, or here. I can’t just let things happen. I can’t just let rules be broken.”

  “Then I quit,” I said with a very satisfied smirk.

  “What?”

  “I quit, Pearl. I’m stepping down from my position as well as quitting the sorority.”

  “You can’t do that!” shouted Pearl before clasping a hand over her mouth.

  “Of course she can!” interrupted Laura, rising from the floor. “And we’ll quit too! Well, at least I will...Rina?” Laura looked over at her lover, who stood with the two of us as well.

  “I will too. And I’m sure our other friends in the house would quit too. And their friends. And then who would be left, Pearl? Who would be left but you?” asked Rina.

  I hadn’t expected Laura and Rina to stand up with me and for me, but I looked at Pearl and the look of realization in her eyes was unmistakable. She knew she was fucked, that she’d messed up terribly, and that there was nowhere left to go but down. I resisted the urge to smile or gloat and finally, Pearl spoke. “You can all stay. Thanks for warning me about your plan, Kim. I would say I’m sorry, but I’m more sorry for myself than for what I’ve done. Thanks for not planning on revealing what happened here until the summer. Good luck on finals.” She composed herself, chin in the air, and left the parlor. There was nothing left for Laura and Rina to say to me, or for me to say to them, except “thanks”: them to me, and me to them.

  Chapter Ten:

  ALTHOUGH PEARL KNEW I WASN’T MOVING OUT OF THE SORORITY, but had effectively quit, nobody else did, except Rina and Laura. Life continued on as usual, except the house was different. I was treated like a plague victim, with people avoiding even my gaze. The identity I’d built up over the years was gone, but what wasn’t was that small seed of hope, hope that was starting to sprout into a new Kim.

  The card was where it had always been: at the bottom of my purse, keeping company with an assortment of pills that had spilled into the bag over many nights at Club Grit, with eraser nubs as pink and easily broken as the illicit medicines, with a few slender shards of the shattered clipboard.

  It was with me.

  “Lawrence Lamont”, read the card, and nothing more, except a string of numbers that meant nothing and in that moment, everything, because he was the only person that could bring me back from the dead. I’d never felt more invisible than during the week since I’d quit Omega Mu and crashed on one of my friend’s futons back in the dorms, like a GDI, a God Damn Independent, and if, even as a ghost, I didn’t count as dead, I don’t know what counts.

  I fingered over the car all day, during classes, and before meals, and just all the time, wondering when the right time would be to contact Lawrence, playing over scenarios in my head, over and over, practicing what I would say, practicing what I would do if I saw him on the street, because there was no way in Hell I’d be going back to Club Grit again, after what had happened. He’d asked me not to, he’d forbid it, and I wasn’t about to disrespect or defy him, not after what had happened.

  The campus had lost interest in what had happened between DeAndre and Emma and was now focused on the scandal between Becca and her ex-boss, rapper extraordinaire, the “Last Voice of the Next Generation”, Keanne Slims. I had never thought I’d ever see them linked, but knowing how Becca had pined over him for months, it didn’t surprise me that she’d finally pursued him. What did surprise me was that she went after someone who already had a girlfriend, the rich and famous Lana Minashian. That didn’t seem like Becca, who had never been the man stealing type, and had never so much as looked at another sorority sister’s boyfriend in “that fashion”.

  Being invisible on campus was better than being constantly seen and on the social radar. I was a stealth plane, floating through classes as if I was nothing more than a fly on the wall, if at all. I didn’t have to hear about gossip about the social season, about the summer, and about the sororities, and instead, I could just focus on classes, classes that had attracted me to UCBH in the first place, but that I’d let fall to the wayside as the Greek Life engulfed the Geek Life. It wasn’t something I was proud of, but it was better than never realizing at all what I’d lost and given up by focusing entirely on my social life and not enough on my academics. I listened to people’s conversations about what they were doing over the summers, and while Cabo and Hong Kong sounded exciting, it was people with internships at big companies or prestigious publishing house that I envied, the ones whose eyes glittered when they spoke of their plans for the future, whose life was just starting even though it felt like mine had just fallen apart.

  How were we all the same age range? How were we all the same species? I had nothing in common with them but I envied them the way that the swimmer envies the dolphin, the way the pilot envies the hawk, because their passion was an essential part of their being. They needed their summer internships and to work at their dream companies as much as an animal has to fly or fight.

  But now? I had something to fight for. It wasn’t as noble as maybe curing cancer or developing organic solar panels, but it was still something that was as much a part of me as being part of Omega Mu Gamma had been. I picked up the phone and punched in the phone number, saving it to my contacts and considering whether or not I’d call it. I was in the administrative building, filling out paperwork for graduation. The sooner I left UCBH, the better. I had no idea what I was going to do after graduation, the drama at Omega House and Club Grit taking over my life, but I knew that I didn’t want to be one of those people who waited until the last minute to get their forms in.

  That’s when I saw the last person I thought I’d see: Becca. I approached her but before I could say anything, she told me, “Get away.” I looked behind her: outside the glass doors of the administrative building were hordes of reporters, their flash bulbs blinding. They knew they couldn’t go into the building, which was private property, but technically, the campus itself was open to reporters. Right now, Becca had safe haven in the building, had sanctuary, but once she left, she’d be their prey.

  “I heard about what happened. I know it’s not you; you wouldn’t do that, ever. And I know the reporters are here for you. I can get you out of the building,” I said, giving her a small smile.

  “Why?”

  “Because...that’s what friends do,” I said. It was true, and ever since Becca had left the sorority, that’s what had been missing: a true friend, my truest. “Come with me.” I started walking to the bathroom and she followed.

  “We’re going to switch hoodies,” I said, unzipping my plain grey hoodie and trading it with Becca, taking her bright pink terry hoodie. “I can mail it back to you but basically, if I leave the building in your hoodie, they’ll follow me and you can leave afterwards. They won’t suspect a thing.”

  “Kim, why are you really doing this?” she asked as we traded sweaters.

  “It’s the right thing to do,” I said, zipping up the hoodie. It was loose around my bust and small frame. Although Becca was taller and curvier than me, the sweater I’d been wearing that day fit me loosely, so it fit her normally, and in the loose hoodie, it would be easy for the paparazzi to confuse me for her.

  “Since when did that matter?” she started to ask.

  I could have told her that it was since I met Lawrence and had to reconsider what my lifestyle had done to me. I could have told her that it mattered since that one afternoon she left and I’d wanted to leave more than some stupid cash in her room. I could have told her that everything had changed because I had changed.

  I could have told her any of that.

  I told her none of that.

  I was already leaving, hood up, and out the doors. It was too late for me to answer, but it didn’t matter. As soon as I opened the door, I was blinded not by the bright California sun, but by the flashes of cameras. I started to run, my flip-flops slipping on the concrete, but I regained by balance and sprinted across the quad in Becca’s hoodie. The rep
orters followed me, thinking I was Becca, and once I turned back and saw that Becca was far enough away, just a blip in the distance.

  In turning to watch her, I lost my focus. In losing focus, I lost track of the steps in the quad that had caused many a sprained ankle. In losing track, I lost balance. In losing balance, I gained wings.

  I jumped, like I had back in high school for track, over the hurdles, except this time, the only goal was to fly, at least until I could land. Up in the air, it was like the world had frozen around me, the only clue to time and space’s existence the flashing of the cameras. The world stayed like that, cleansed by the light of repent, until it went into slow motion, with the hood of the hoodie slipping down, the reporter’s faces going from smiling their shit-eating grins, revealing the fact that even before they had their shot, they were counting their chickens before they hatched, wondering how many thousand dollars they’d get for a shot of Becca, to going slack-jawed with disappointment as they realized there’d be no shot of Becca, just of me, as my feet hit the pavement again and I landed, before rolling over and feeling my exposed hands scrape against the ground.

  “Can I help you?” I asked as the reporters frowned and groaned before they dispersed. I’d been the perfect bait and somehow, my short stature and petite figure hadn’t given away the fact that no, I was not Becca. Nobody reached a hand out to help me up, but when I held mine up, I saw they were bright red, with fresh blood.

  It was the blood of salvation.

  Chapter Eleven:

  THERE ARE FEW THINGS AS TERRIBLE AND AS WONDERFUL as waiting for someone at a coffee shop. Every person who passes your eye, whose voice peaks above the noise, whose flutter of a coat or turn of arm reminds you of him, teases and tantalizes you. Following slim pale legs up to find that they led to a skirt, a blouse, and not to Lawrence was silly, but doing the same with the man men in formal work suits is more normal, because they all blend together, even though I’d like to believe that mine sticks out.