They Let Us Play With Markers, but I Keep Trying to Draw Infinity

The first time my alarm went off, I hit snooze with a smile. Since I’d taken a shower the night before, I could sleep an extra hour that morning without repercussions. When the time came for me to actually get up, though, I wasn’t as happy. My bed had never felt more comfortable, my blankets had never kept me warmer, and the sun, for once, was not shining directly in my face. Why would I possibly want to get up? Unfortunately I had no choice as I had classes today, and though it’s a short day, with Chuck in one class and Randy in another, it’s also the two most annoying classes I have to take this semester: US History After 1877 with an absolute dick of a teacher and Child Psychology with an absolute moron of a teacher.

I, along with my best friends Chuck and Randy, am a sophomore at Kemper College, located just down the street from where we live which makes it delightfully easy for us because we are able to sleep in, leaving during free periods, and save quite a bit on gas.

I suppose I should explain about Randy and Chuck and all that goes with so that our lives are easier to understand.

Randy’s full name is Amaranth Kallistrate Pellani, but no one is capable of pronouncing or spelling it so she just tells everyone it’s Randy. The summer before our senior year in high school, her family moved her away from sunny San Francisco to the dreary Midwest where she’s always freezing and therefore angry. They moved in at the end of my block and around the corner, so when she’s not forced to be home, she’s generally always over at mine.

She’s also one of the tallest people I know, standing at five feet, eleven inches. Once upon a time, she used to have long, blonde hair – she showed me a picture once so I’d believe it – but now she has short, purple hair. It’s funny because she doesn’t understand that people in the Midwest generally find that odd and so are scared of her (that part she finds amusing). She was lucky enough to land a job at the only Starbucks for miles, and as for school, she majors in music and minors in art.

Charlotte Victoria Clerval, or Chuck, is my other best friend, though we weren’t always as such. Her family moved here from Kansas when we were in fifth grade, and I hated her right off the bat. She was pretty, nice, smart, and talented. She was everything I wanted to be and so I hated her – until we both took the same creative writing class the year before Randy moved to town, and I found that she was awesome. That was also when I found out that Chuck similarly lived just down the street from me. It was like fate had brought the three of us together.

Chuck thankfully doesn’t make me feel quite the midget that Randy does, being only three inches taller than me at five foot eight, but had beautiful, long blonde hair and tan, flawless skin with her dancer’s body. She also was much luckier than I at finding a job, working at the Sapphire Room, a very swank restaurant downtown. And as for her schooling, she is majoring in history and anthropology with a minor in photography.

I, Josephine Iantha Winsor (please just call me Josey), am constantly teased by them that I must be shrinking because I seem so much shorter than five foot five. I have no particular build, I just am a body with dark hair and pale skin. I look the spitting image of my mother when she was my age, and the old people in her hometown love to remind me of it – pinching my cheek included. When I finally got around to looking for a job, I must have inquired on the wrong day because all I found was an opening at Boom Burger, the grossest fast food restaurant (is it even allowed to be called that?) ever in existence, but I’d been competent enough that they promoted me to shift manager very, very quickly. It makes sense as I’m not really a dummy. At school I’m currently majoring in education and minoring in English with an emphasis on literature and writing.

And since we lived so close to the school, we would walk, picking each other up along the way. But that Friday, when I got to the end of the first block, Randy wasn’t there, nor anywhere in sight. Past experiences had taught that if she wasn’t there by the time I got there and I’d not heard from her, she wasn’t coming. Walking on, I met up with Chuck on the corner in front of her house.

“You look sexy today.”

“I know,” I sighed. “It took me like ten minutes to pick out my clothes.”

“Good choice,” Chuck said, eyeing me up and down before glancing over my shoulder. “No Randy?”

I shrugged. “I guess not. Haven’t heard from her anyway.”

We walked the rest of the way to class discussing our plans for the weekend and complaining about homework. As we sat in our seats, the guy at the table in front of us turned in his chair to face us.

“Good morning, ladies.”

“Morning, Tristan,” Chuck beamed.

“Hey,” I said a little quieter.

Tristan Marmaduke Bartleby was a fellow sophomore from a small about two hours away. Like Randy and myself, his main interests were in art and music but opposite to Randy, he was majoring in art and minoring in music.

From the first day of class it was painfully obvious that the girl next to him was tragically ignorant. She didn’t know why polar bears don’t eat penguins or why the Abominable Snowman is so terrible. Since then, Tristan has often turned around to talk to or share baffled looks with Chuck and me. And ever since the first day of class, I have had a hopeless crush on this boy.

“Any plans for the weekend?”

“We were thinking of catching a movie. What about you?” Chuck said, smiling her genuinely sweet smile.

“Oh,” Tristan smiled as he leaned back in his chair and put his hands behind his head, “I hadn’t really thought about it. Me and some friends were thinking about going to the park and playing some Ultimate Frisbee. You guys wanna come?”

Chuck gave me the look in which she means that I should be the one to say something. The reason was that she knew I had a crush on him, and she was trying to force me to be social.

“There’s a distinct possibility,” I said slowly as I looked away from Chuck and back at Tristan.

“That’s what I like to hear.” Tristan dropped his arms and sat up straight then grabbed my pen and notebook and wrote a number in the corner of the topmost page. “If you find the time, call me.”

I didn’t have time to respond as Mr. Rues called entered the classroom and began taking role. Chuck kept giving me sneaking, sidelong smiles that she tried to hide. I tried to focus on the lecture, but every time I looked down, I saw Tristan’s number scrawled in the corner, and my face would flush while butterflies danced in my stomach. My thoughts made the class go agonizingly slow.

I wanted to go. At least part of me did. The idea of hanging out with this incredibly cute guy made me really excited and even more nervous. I knew nothing about Ultimate Frisbee except that it was a sport, and sports I am not good at, which made me want to decline in the hopes of keeping some sense of dignity.

By the end of the fifty minute class period, Chuck could read every thought clearly on my face.

“You should go. If Randy’s not sick, she and I will go with you. I’ll make Hunter go, too. See? You’ll have support! And I know you like him. I can’t believe he gave you his number! This is so exciting, Josey!”

I rolled my eyes and tried to breathe calmly.

“I have to go to Psych. Call me when you get home. Or come over, or something.”

“Okay. See you after school.”

“Yep.” I nodded my head and walked to Child Psychology, deep in thought, weighing the pros and cons of calling and going.

As it turned out, Psychology wasn’t any better than History in distracting me. I wrote notes very apathetically in comparison to my usually thorough manner, and the information didn’t capture my attention any more securely. The walk home simply made it worse.

I continued to think through every possible scenario – both good and bad – as I got the mail, made something to eat for lunch, and headed upstairs to my room. When I reached the top step, all thoughts of Tristan were erased from my mind by the eerie sound of music coming from my bedroom.

My room was the last on the right, and I never left anything on – music, television, computer, lamp, etc. But as I edged closer to the door, it was obvious that something was on and that someone had turned it on.

When I pushed open the door, I let out a huge sigh of relief to see Randy sitting on my bed, playing video games and barely even acknowledging my existence.

“I love that you practically live here.”

“There’s no one to bother me from video games here.”

“So who am I, the Invisible Man?” I asked, throwing my book bag into my computer chair and sitting next to Randy on the bed. “Or Woman, I guess.”

“No way. If you were, we’d have to be superheroes and use our powers for good rather than evil.”

“Are you telling me that you already have superpowers?”

“Of course not. Then I’d have to kill you. I’ll settle for schooling you at video games.”

“Of course you would. So, something happened today that I think you’ll be happy about.”

“Do I finally get to play drums out on the quad?”

“No.” I didn’t even want to ask to see what Randy meant.

“Damn. What happened?”

“Maybe if you had been at school today, I would have told you during the incredibly boring lecture notes in Psych, which I’m debating about not letting you borrow. Slacker.”

Randy paused the game and pouted at me. “Aww, come on! You know Burbage is out to get me! He refuses to acknowledge that just because Schrödinger might have been cruel to animals, he was still a genius! The fact that we don't know for certain was the entire point of the experiment!”

I rolled my eyes. “You only bring up that argument because you know it makes him angry.”

Randy shrugged. “And because we both know I’m right. But tell me what happened.”

“All right. Well, remember that cute guy Tristan in History?”

“Then one you have the hots for?”

Ignoring the question, I said, “He gave me his number and invited us – well, me to hang out with him and his friends at the park tomorrow. Playing Ultimate Frisbee.”

“Sweet! I love Frisbee. And if you and he happen to disappear for a while…” She un-paused the game and refocused her attention back to the TV screen. “Well, I can’t say I won’t snicker, but I won’t make hot sex jokes. At least to his friends.”

“Amaranth! You’re as bad as Chuck. She practically had a giggle seizure for the rest of class.”

“We do it because we love you, Jos. We’re like parents, only much, much more awesome.”

I groaned and leaned against the headrest. “Parents suck in every way, shape, and form. And anyway I don’t know if I really want to go.”

“What? Why not? It’s Frisbee in the park with friends. It’s not like he asked you to be the third in a threesome or anything.”

“Oh, my God. Do you always have to be so crass? And you know how I am around boys. And adding a freaking Frisbee to the equation? Hello!” I pointed at myself. “Magnetic force for all things ball or disc shaped.”

“You think I’m crass. You should meet the guys with whom I went to high school. But yes, yes I do.” She grinned wide. “Don’t be said, little pussycat. A little ineptness goes a long way when it comes to guys getting to like you.”

“So if I break my nose with a Frisbee, I should see it as a good thing?”

“If it’s coming at your face, flail and knock it so it doesn’t kill you. But once a guy sees you suck at something he likes, he’ll want to teach you and get you better. If he wants to be your friend or more, that is.”

“So I should let a guy perve on me? Who plays Frisbee, anyway?”

“Do you like this boy, Josephine?” Randy said in her best mom voice.

I thought about it for a moment; the question had kind of caught me off guard.

“I don’t know. He’s cute, and he’s funny, and I definitely have a crush on him. But I don’t know anything about him, and I’ve always assumed he had a girlfriend so I never allowed myself anything past crush.”

“For all intensive purposes,” Randy said, still completely absorbed in the game, “I’m taking that as a yes. If you like him, you should get to know him. That’s what dating is about.” Randy rolled her eyes and muttered, “Or at least it’s supposed to be. Apparently guys our age have other ideas.”

“What are you mumbling over there?”

“Nothing, just some guy earlier who leads a meaningless life.”

“You actually ventured away from the confines of our houses? I’m surprised. Listen, I’ll go tomorrow on one condition: That you and Chuck come with.”

“Sure. It’ll give me an excuse to venture outside the confines of our houses. Which, apparently, I never do.”

“Oh, I didn’t mean it like that, and you know it.”

“It’s kind of true, though. Except for class and work and the occasional movie.”

meandered to my closet. “What should I even wear tomorrow? Does it matter? Oh, why does Chuck have to have a full day of classes today?”

“Doesn’t he usually see you in jeans and a t-shirt?” Randy asked before she yelled at the TV. “Don’t die on me, bitch!”

I turned and looked at her, surprised. “You haven’t looked at me once since I came in the room, have you?”

"Green and gold paisley sleeveless sundress, v-neck, down to your knees, metallic copper flats with straps across the top, four bangles on your left wrist, bun with the hairtie wrapped around twice so it falls out in that trendy half-messy way."

“…Sometimes I wonder if you’re even human.”

“I’m actually a vampire alien. I keep forgetting to tell you that.”

“Is that why you always make weird faces and touch people inappropriately?”

“Bullshit. You know I hate touching people. I don’t know where they’ve been. Unless it’s a band member, in which case I know exactly where they’ve been and probably want to touch them less.”

“Oh, please. You grope every attractive thing that walks in front of you.”

“I haven’t groped you. I didn’t grope Tristan. I didn’t grope Blaine.” Randy paused. “Oh, wait. I take that last one back.”

“You grope me all the time, and I’m sure you grope Tristan with your eyes whenever you get the chance. You’re totally going to be one of those old ladies who constantly hit on young, attractive men.”

Randy groaned, apparently at the game because her next words didn’t match the gesture. “I haven’t groped you today. Tristan has no ass and always wears a hoodie so there’s not much to oogle, and I’m going to die before I get old.”

“The only reason you haven’t groped me today is because your little hands are currently occupied. And what are you going to do, commit suicide? And Tristan does too have an ass!” I added as an afterthought.

“Aha!” Randy shouted. “So you’ve been checking out his nonexistent ass!”

“I—So what if I have? At least I haven’t molested the guy I’m attracted to.”

She grinned evilly at the screen. “I haven’t either, but you’ve definitely thought about it.”

“You just admitted to molesting Blaze, or whatever his name is!” I countered; trying not to acknowledge or deny any thought I may or may not have had about Tristan.

“Who said I was attracted to him? All I said was that he happened to change out of his uniform while I was in the room. And it’s Blaine, but I’ll bring it up next time we’re on duty.”

I shook my head. “You are completely impossible.”

Randy shrugged. “You should wear those jeans Chuck made you buy the other week and that black v-neck with the gold swirly things on it.” Her fingers hadn’t even paused in their movements as she spoke.