often paired ourselves up together—even if our personalities grated and never really jived, we knew how to make top marks.
Our professors ranked us in certain areas, and no surprise, both her and my own ID number appeared at the very pinnacle of every chart.
Keeping her happy wasn’t only for her survival… It was for my own good too.
***
Later in the night, when we were getting ready for bed, Lindsay played with her phone, staying up until the moon was out.
I couldn’t sleep, the heat being too much for me. Ready for winter again, I leaned over my bed, flicking on my fan.
“Hey,” she whispered. “About these programs… I looked some of them over… They’re really brilliant. Must’ve taken a while.”
“Yeah,” I said, “generating clean code is never easy. It must’ve been, I don’t know, two or three months?”
“And you said I can do anything with them for work, right?”
“Yeah,” I said, sleepily. Yawning and fluffing my pillow, I adjusted my fan for maximum airflow. “You can do whatever the hell you want with them, Lindsay.”
“Anything?”
“Anything,” I said, my eyes shutting.
The fan blew on my skin in gentle strokes.
I dreamed of Joseph.
Chapter 13
The next day, Lindsay rushed from the apartment in a whirl. I only had my club to think about because my schedule was open.
Zena and Ricarda had been radio silent for most of the week. My girls never said a peep either. If Angela knew whatever they were cooking up for me, she didn’t let on any information.
I put applied my makeup, grabbed myself a hair bun, and pulled on a lace crop top with jeans.
Going out, I walked to the subway station, riding over and meeting up with Angela.
“Hey,” she said, when I found her in front of the clubhouse. Her forehead wrinkled, and her arms kept to her sides, like they were pinned.
She glanced around, as if at any moment, someone would pounce.
Her voice trembled, jittered.
“What’s wrong?” I said. “You look like… There’s a problem going on?”
“Dude,” Angela said, “I heard that they’re planning something against you and… I wanted you to know.”
“Heads up taken,” I said. “Well, let’s go inside.”
“They wouldn’t tell me what it was,” Angela said. “I heard it from one of the other girls, but no one would speak.”
“Can’t be that bad,” I said. “Zena and Ricarda are only mean girls, not supernatural beings.”
When we stepped inside the club room, it was total paranoia. Every girl at the table whispered amongst themselves, suddenly stopping at our entry. I reached my usual spot, sitting down, but none of the others would even acknowledge me.
Something had gone very, very wrong, and all of them were culprits.
They’d sabotaged me with the meet-and-greet frat party. They made fun of me.
Now, they ushered in a new scheme.
Zena came in first. Her hair plaited in braids. Then Ricarda behind her, doggedly, not out of the ordinary.
They sat down opposite of me, and Angela, their legs crossed immediately, pens out, phones to their sides.
“Well,” Zena said, “we have some news for you, Ophelia.”
“You’re not the president anymore,” Ricarda added.
I contorted my face. “What do you mean?” I said.
“Exactly what we just said,” Zena said. “Do we have to repeat ourselves?”
“This is nonsense,” I said. “Pure, unadulterated nonsense.”
“I agree,” Angela said. “Why should Ophelia have to go anywhere? No one told me about this. Did these two tell any of you guys?” She glanced at the other girls. None of them spoke.
“We dislike your leadership,” Zena said, “and we think that this club would be better spearheaded under our direction.”
“Really?” I said. “Was it you that got the Red Cross involved? When we did the Halloween bash? Or how
Our professors ranked us in certain areas, and no surprise, both her and my own ID number appeared at the very pinnacle of every chart.
Keeping her happy wasn’t only for her survival… It was for my own good too.
***
Later in the night, when we were getting ready for bed, Lindsay played with her phone, staying up until the moon was out.
I couldn’t sleep, the heat being too much for me. Ready for winter again, I leaned over my bed, flicking on my fan.
“Hey,” she whispered. “About these programs… I looked some of them over… They’re really brilliant. Must’ve taken a while.”
“Yeah,” I said, “generating clean code is never easy. It must’ve been, I don’t know, two or three months?”
“And you said I can do anything with them for work, right?”
“Yeah,” I said, sleepily. Yawning and fluffing my pillow, I adjusted my fan for maximum airflow. “You can do whatever the hell you want with them, Lindsay.”
“Anything?”
“Anything,” I said, my eyes shutting.
The fan blew on my skin in gentle strokes.
I dreamed of Joseph.
Chapter 13
The next day, Lindsay rushed from the apartment in a whirl. I only had my club to think about because my schedule was open.
Zena and Ricarda had been radio silent for most of the week. My girls never said a peep either. If Angela knew whatever they were cooking up for me, she didn’t let on any information.
I put applied my makeup, grabbed myself a hair bun, and pulled on a lace crop top with jeans.
Going out, I walked to the subway station, riding over and meeting up with Angela.
“Hey,” she said, when I found her in front of the clubhouse. Her forehead wrinkled, and her arms kept to her sides, like they were pinned.
She glanced around, as if at any moment, someone would pounce.
Her voice trembled, jittered.
“What’s wrong?” I said. “You look like… There’s a problem going on?”
“Dude,” Angela said, “I heard that they’re planning something against you and… I wanted you to know.”
“Heads up taken,” I said. “Well, let’s go inside.”
“They wouldn’t tell me what it was,” Angela said. “I heard it from one of the other girls, but no one would speak.”
“Can’t be that bad,” I said. “Zena and Ricarda are only mean girls, not supernatural beings.”
When we stepped inside the club room, it was total paranoia. Every girl at the table whispered amongst themselves, suddenly stopping at our entry. I reached my usual spot, sitting down, but none of the others would even acknowledge me.
Something had gone very, very wrong, and all of them were culprits.
They’d sabotaged me with the meet-and-greet frat party. They made fun of me.
Now, they ushered in a new scheme.
Zena came in first. Her hair plaited in braids. Then Ricarda behind her, doggedly, not out of the ordinary.
They sat down opposite of me, and Angela, their legs crossed immediately, pens out, phones to their sides.
“Well,” Zena said, “we have some news for you, Ophelia.”
“You’re not the president anymore,” Ricarda added.
I contorted my face. “What do you mean?” I said.
“Exactly what we just said,” Zena said. “Do we have to repeat ourselves?”
“This is nonsense,” I said. “Pure, unadulterated nonsense.”
“I agree,” Angela said. “Why should Ophelia have to go anywhere? No one told me about this. Did these two tell any of you guys?” She glanced at the other girls. None of them spoke.
“We dislike your leadership,” Zena said, “and we think that this club would be better spearheaded under our direction.”
“Really?” I said. “Was it you that got the Red Cross involved? When we did the Halloween bash? Or how
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