Lunatic Fringe (16 page)

Catching Lexie’s perplexed gaze, Corwin
said, “She’ll be fine,” as she rolled to her side, reaching into
the pocket of her denim shorts and withdrawing rolling papers and a
small bag of loose tobacco.

Blythe nodded, “She gets that way
whenever Corwin doesn’t spend the night with her.”

“
Confidentiality is a
virtue, Blythe,” Corwin said, as she stuffed the tobacco into the
crease of the rolling paper.

“
Oh please,” Blythe waved
her hand in dismissal, “Lexie’s one of us now.”

“
Then air your own dirty
laundry, not mine,” Corwin replied before turning to face Lexie.
“Sharm and I have an open thing. It works pretty well.”

“
For one of you,” Mitch
chimed in, his voice quiet, though he got his point across just
fine.

Corwin ignored the comment as she
brought the cigarette to her mouth to daub her tongue along the
adhesive edge. She rose to her elbow to make her point, gesturing
with her unlit cigarette. “Sharmalee is upset because the girl she
was crushing on turned out to be a cocksucker. She’s being
melodramatic. I didn’t do anything wrong.”

“
Maybe you just need some
clearer agreements,” Jenna offered.

“
Noted,” Corwin
said.

Lexie found a patch of blanket and sat.
Jenna passed her a champagne flute, dropping a raspberry into the
flute with a wink. The orange juice splashed out of the glass and
onto Lexie’s hand. She leaned to lick it off just as Blythe jumped
to her knees to shout, “Go, Go, GO!” Mitch and the others sat up to
cheer as Hazel barreled through the opposing team’s defense, girls
easily twice her size struggling to keep up with the agile little
fox. The opposing goalie steeled herself for the fierce drive to
come. Hazel drew back her leg and bent the ball into the top corner
of the net. The stands exploded into cheers. Blythe sat her
half-empty glass on the grass and jumped up to shout louder than
anyone. “That’s my girl! Yeah, Hazel, yeah!”

All the girls followed Blythe to their
feet and shouted for Hazel. Though she smiled, Hazel was all
business running back to her side of the field.

“
She’s amazing,” Lexie
said.

“
Hell yeah, she is,” Corwin
said.

“
She’s great at lacrosse,
too,” Jenna said.

Blythe smiled. “So are you.”

“
I suppose so, but Hazel’s
got a knack.”

“
Do you all play sports?”
Lexie asked.

“
Renee and Hazel are really
the jocks,” said Mitch.

“
Yep, Renee does track,
too,” Blythe nodded.

“
Almost beat your record in
the hurdles, Blythe.” Corwin said.

“
Not yet, she
hasn’t.”

“
I play Frisbee in the
spring, and Sharm is a forward on the volleyball team,” Corwin
added. “That’s how we met. But I dropped volleyball to coach the
boxing club.”

“
What about you, Mitch?”
Lexie asked.

“
Kind of.”

“
Kind of what?”

He squirmed. Blythe spoke, “Mitch
played women’s hockey until the phallocrats cut the
team.”

“
Budget stuff.” Mitch
shrugged. “Would never happen back in Ottawa.”

As the cheers died down, Sharmalee
wandered back to the blanket and held out her hand for Jenna to
fill with a drink. Taking it, she knelt next to Corwin, her free
hand resting on her thighs. Corwin lifted up her sunglasses,
squinting at the intrusion of the light. She and Sharmalee looked
at each other in silent communion. Sharmalee moved her hand to
Corwin’s breastbone, resting it there, and Corwin covered it with
her own hand. The other girls watched. After a couple moments,
without the exchange of any words, the two girls kissed, and
Sharmalee lay her head on Corwin’s chest, comfortable and happy
once again.

Lexie scanned the field and found Renee
at the far end, playing defense. She wore shorts and knee socks,
her legs as spindly as a prepubescent boy’s. Her hair was pulled
back into two afro-puffs at the crown of her head, making it look
as though she was wearing teddy-bear ears. Freckles sprayed across
the crest of her nose. For such a sophisticated woman, she looked
downright adorable.

The champagne was going to Lexie’s head
already, and her stomach growled. Without hesitation, Jenna swung
open the hinged cooler, holding individually wrapped sandwiches and
petits fromages in red wax.

“
Holy cow,” Lexie said, her
stomach rejoicing with an impassioned gurgle.

“
Jenna is our key to
surviving the apocalypse,” Mitch said, and Jenna blushed. “She can
pour candles, bake bread, even brew beer. She’s
amazing.”

“
I like being of service,”
Jenna said, her curls like weighted springs, stretching and
recoiling with each perky wag of her head.

“
Well,” Lexie said, made
daring by the breeze on her neck, the taste of champagne, bread,
and cheese on her lips, and the flitting memory of Archer’s
breasts, “You can service me whenever you want.”

The girls laughed together. The ham in
the sandwich, far more than the champagne, was ambrosia: Lexie’s
hunger was immense. The color and sheen of the meat sent her mind
reeling in curious, fleshy directions. She sighed as a swell of
gratitude roiled over her, for this day, this company, this
sustenance.

A breeze blew across the field, kicking
up loose napkins and strands of hair. It parted the drifting clouds
overhead, casting thick, hot beams of sunlight onto the blanket.
Lexie, already overdressed for this Indian Summer day, broke into a
sweat. She unzipped her hoodie, wrangling it off her
shoulders.

Blythe breathed in deep, before choking
and coughing. “Ugh! I swallowed a gnat!”

“
Gross!” Sharmalee said,
laughing, before turning her dark eyes to Lexie saying, “Lexie you
look hot today.” Corwin bristled.

“
What? Me?”

“
She’s right,” Jenna said.
“There’s a je ne sais quoi about you today.”

Blythe grinned as she poured herself
another glass of juice. “Yeah. It’s as if you got yourself a
girlfriend or something.”

Lexie tried not to panic. She shook her
head, a false smile painted on her lips. She had checked twice
before leaving, and she was sure she didn’t look any different than
the last time they had all hung out after the barbecue. A bit more
rested, perhaps, but not glowing or any such idiocy. Lexie had
successfully slept every night since the Full Moon Tribe, her
nights as expressionless as her new dorm room.

“
Well whatever it is,”
Jenna said with a smile, “it’s working for you.”

The bleachers were crowded with
students, including the boys of Phi Kappa Phi, most of whom were on
the men’s soccer team, and all of whom were like Brian: rich,
handsome, and drunk. A cooler rested on the top bench, and red
plastic cups abounded. Lexie thought it seemed a bit early for
beer, but realized her hypocrisy in the form of the champagne flute
she clutched.

The boys cheered for every girl on the
team by name. At the edge of their group, closest to Lexie, stood
Duane. He twirled a gold rally rag and screamed along with the
rest. He looked like he belonged in a college brochure, his
letter-jacket clean and new, the purple wool and gold leather
making his skin look as bright as his future. He caught Lexie’s
eyes as she scanned the crowd and waved. Lexie waved back,
attracting Brian’s attention as he squeezed a lime wedge into the
mouth of his beer bottle. He winked in the direction of the
Pack.

Beyond the stands, the shrill bleat of
a whistle called for a break, and the women on the field jogged
back to their respective benches. Blythe and the rest cheered,
“Good quarter!” “Right on, Hazel!” “Kick ass!” Hazel and Renee
grinned and waved as they took the bench. Noticing Lexie, Renee’s
smile widened, and she beckoned her over.

Anxiety gripping her spine, Lexie
hopped up and ran-skipped-walked to Renee and was enveloped by her
arms. The moisture on their skins commingled as their bodies
pressed together. The sweet smell of Renee’s sweat drove Lexie’s
body into overdrive, but in her mind’s eye, she saw only
Archer.

“
I’m glad you came!” Renee
said, her smile broad and open. Her skin was so soft that it didn’t
crinkle, even around her eyes, when she smiled.

“
Me too,” Lexie responded,
riding her buzz as long and steady as she could, getting even
drunker on her lack of inhibition. “Did I miss anything
good?”

“
Nah. I don’t go for the
glory in these games. This field belongs to Hazel. You having
fun?”

Lexie nodded.

“
Well, you’re looking
good,” Renee said with a grin, slapping Lexie’s shoulder with her
open palm. “I’d still like to pick up where we left off that stormy
night, you know.”

Lexie focused on the sunlight heating
the part in her hair and the taste of orange juice on her lips,
trying not to transpose the thought of Renee’s eager grasp on the
memory of how Archer’s touch made her feel.

The whistle blew, warning of the
impending second half.

“
You wanna meet up after
your bio lab next week?” Renee asked, hurrying through small talk
to the point of the matter. “I’m TA-ing.”

Lexie wasn’t sure what Renee intended,
nor what she herself wanted, yet an answer teased towards her lips
as she weighed the possibilities.

“
Loosen up that tongue,
girlie!” Renee egged. “I gotta get back to the game.”

Yes, Lexie’s brain said, but the word
didn’t come. Yes, she thought again, though the word was missing
the desire.

“
Have I taught you
nothing?” Renee sighed. “Alright, I’m gonna take that as a ‘no.’
You let me know if you change your mind.”

Lexie stood, disappointed in her
silence. “And, tell the ladies who munch to save me some fromage,
a’ight?” Renee winked, slapping Lexie amiably on the shoulder.
Lexie half-smiled, charmed despite her inability to assert herself,
and hugged Renee again, a bit longer, a bit tighter this time, then
crossed back toward the girls.

Brian shouted her name from the
bleachers as she passed. He held a half-empty beer bottle, his
Kappa brothers watching with interest. Duane reclined in the sun
next to Brian, his khakied legs stretched over the lower tier of
benches. He waved, less eagerly than before. Lexie reluctantly
climbed the aluminum steps to the group.

Brian spoke louder than necessary, his
words slurred. “Those your friends?” he asked, nodding his head
toward the Pack.

Lexie nodded, uncomfortable with the
audience he commanded. Duane watched the game like he wasn’t paying
attention, but Lexie could feel him training an ear on the
conversation.

“
So, I guess you are a
dyke, then,” Brian said, stirring chuckles from his assembled frat
brothers. Lexie was stunned silent. “You gonna stop shaving your
pits now or something? Get all hairy and gross?” Brian goaded. “I
mean, you’re just so pretty. It doesn’t make any sense.”

Lexie turned to leave, but Brian
grabbed her arm, his fingers tight on her bicep. “No, no. Don’t be
mad. I’m just joshin’.” He gave her a grin that Lexie suspected he
trotted out whenever he needed to charm himself out of being an
asshole. In this circumstance, though, it just looked studied. His
teeth were too white and straight, his eyes showed no kindness. His
whole face was a plasticine figure of false conviction.

Lexie tried to shake him free, but his
grip was implacable, as though his hand was a student in the arts
of grasping and holding, of squeezing and remaining steadfastly
attached. She knew that such a hold should hurt, but instead of the
dull pain she would expect to feel, her arm throbbed with hot
blood, her own pulse fighting back against his grip.

“
Don’t go,” he said
clumsily, less a threat than a plea. “It’s cool. I just . . .” he
sighed. “I mean, you’re cool.” He clumsily pulled her closer,
yanking her arm in its socket. His breath was sweet and stale, like
moldy bread.

She jumped up a step to keep from
tripping over the bench that separated them, slamming her shin into
the metal in the process. With Brian’s hand digging into her skin,
Lexie stood off-balance in the center of the group of Brian’s
brothers. All of the boys were at least a head taller than she was,
casting her into a well of shadow.

Brian lowered his voice to breathy
slur, “Those girls are fucked up. Seriously. I’ve heard some shit.”
His eyes struggled to focus on Lexie’s face, which he pulled mere
inches from his own. “They want us all dead or
castrated.”

Oh is that right? Lexie thought, though
her mouth stayed frustratingly shut.

“
You’re just so nice,”
Brian continued. “And they’re--they’re not. I’m just looking after
you. Don’t, like, go over the edge. Don’t turn into . . . I dunno.”
His veneer of perfection was cracking beneath his own
drunkenness.

“
Let me go,” Lexie finally
managed, jerking her arm in his grasp. Duane dropped his pretense
and glanced over at them.

“
No, no, you don’t get it,”
Brian whimpered. Duane buried his face in his hands. Lexie steeled
her jaw.