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

Later that night, after Chuck had gotten home, Randy and I went over to her house where I called Tristan to confirm our plans for the next day. Chuck was just as excited as Randy was that I had decided to go, except that Chuck was much more willing to show her excitement… by jumping up and down around her kitchen, waltzing and singing.

“Josey and Tristan, sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G. First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes the baby in the baby carriage!”

Randy responded in an equally mature way: By pulling the back of Chuck’s shirt over her head. It sadly didn’t stop her for long, though. Randy had to clamp her hand over Chuck’s mouth while I was on the phone with Tristan to keep her from singing it loud enough for him to hear.

We didn’t end up staying at Chuck’s long. For some reason, Randy was really tired and wanted to go home and sleep.

I, however, couldn’t even close my eyes. Butterflies kept me awake until about 3:30 when my body finally decided my mind could go screw itself, and I fell asleep.

Saturday came as quickly and brightly as Friday had. I didn’t even look at the clock when I awoke because I knew it was still too early to start worrying about a shower – or breakfast – so I continued to lie in bed and stare at my abysmally white ceiling.

I’d have to remember to ask Randy to paint it.

My entire room was decorated to Randy’s specifications – with my permission, of course. During the summer, we took a week and just tore my room apart then put it back together.

Around eleven o’clock, the doorbell downstairs rang.

“Josey, Randy’s here!”

I watched my door, still lying in bed, as I listened to Randy’s footsteps ascend the stairs, walk the hallway, and stop outside my room; the door swung open with a bang.

“You’re in bed trying to avoid hanging out with a cute boy who invited you to hang out. What is wrong with this picture?”

“I only slept for four hours.”

“And whose fault is that? Now, come on. Don’t make me get Chuck and try to make you pretty.”

“Oh, please don’t,” I groaned, rolling into my pillow. “Can’t we call and cancel? We’ll say I’m sick.”

“No. I haven’t played Ultimate Frisbee since I left the West Coast. Get up.”

Randy crossed the room and pulled on my arm until I climbed out of the mass of blankets.

“Who even thinks up psycho games like Ultimate Frisbee? It sounds worse than squash.”

“It’s super fun,” Randy argued. “You’ll see if you get dressed.”

It took a bit more coaxing and a lot of muttered swear words before I climbed into the shower. I added a little bit more grumbling, just for show, as I kicked Randy out of my room so I could get dressed. I almost had a panic attack when I couldn’t find the shirt she told me to wear, but after making a big mess of clothes on my bed, I discovered it in the back of my closet. It fit better than the last time I’d worn it, and the jeans were more comfortable than when I’d tried them on in the store. Such little things like that always made me happy.

I stood in front of my mirror making faces and scrutinizing every expression. I was cute enough; I knew that – mostly because Chuck and Randy always told me so – and I was healthy. Physically, I was great. Mentally, I was intelligent and humorous with a fair amount of common sense and more than my share of loving kindness. I knew it was always emotionally that people find the most problems, but I wasn’t even sure what emotions I had, much less if they were deformed in any way.

“What a stupid thought to have before a date,” I muttered to my reflection. My brows furrowed as another thought struck me. Calling to Randy in the hallway I asked, “Is this even considered a date or people just hanging out?”

It took her so long to answer that I was sure if she’d heard me.

“Casual hanging out that could lead to a date?” she suggested.

I blew up my cheeks with air, making one last annoyed face at myself before I completely gave up applying any more makeup. My face looked clean and less pale than usual; that was about as good as it would get. With that attitude in mind, I didn’t even try with my hair, just ran a hand through some troublesome looking curls, grabbed my phone and keys, and walked out of my room.

Since it was such a beautiful day, we decided to wait for Chuck and her boyfriend Hunter on the porch. At least until my older sister Katherine yelled at us because we were making the dogs bark. Then we sat on the trunk of my car in the driveway and out of sight of the dogs.

“What are the chances that fall is actually here to stay?”

“I bet it’s Mother Nature’s ruse to lure us into a false sense of security.”

“So what, she’ll strike with a tornado?” I joked, but I changed my mind when I fully realized the implications. “…That’s a horrible thought.”

“Nah,” Randy disagreed. “Probably just some rain to piss people off. S’what I’d do.”

“And that’s probably why God didn’t make you Mother Nature.”

“You don’t know that,” she said, and she winked at me.

“If you were Mother Nature then men would be fucked,” I countered.

“Are you calling me a cosmological slut?”

“No.” I laughed. “I’m saying that men would be in mortal danger every time they stepped out of their homes.”

“Aren’t they already? Apparently I need to step up my game.”

I rolled my eyes. “You are not Mother Nature.”

“Do you think I’d tell you if I am? It’s like being a superhero.”

“One catch. If you were, women would have it better off. Even you wouldn’t wish such torture on your own kind.”

“Well, I can’t play favorites. Think of how much bitching I’d have to listen to.”

“As if you don’t already?”

“Touché. But I don’t play favorites. I just hate some people less than others.”

I stuck out my bottom lip as far it would go in the biggest pout I could manage. “I’m not your favorite?”

“Who said I liked you?” she asked with a wide grin.

“…You’re horrible.”

“Why, thank you!”

“So not a compliment.”

“I love you, too.”

“You love me, but I’m not your favorite? That’s not contradictory at all,” I said sarcastically.

“Well, how would Chuck feel if I said I loved you more?”

“Probably hit you and say that she loves me more.” I grinned. “I am most loved by all.”

Randy stuck out her tongue. “Well, I love Chuck more.”

“Liar!” I gasped.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, sugar.”

“Where is Chuck?” I was freaking out enough as it was, and the last thing I needed was an MIA Chuck.

“Iono. Hiding bodies?”

“Who’s hiding bodies?” Chuck asked, stopping next to us, hand in hand with Hunter.

“Supposedly you are. What took you so long?”

“Sorry. We got back from lunch late. Are we ready to go?”

“Yep.” Randy and I slid off the trunk, and we all climbed into the car.

The park was so packed with people that if Tristan hadn’t told us what shelter number, I don’t think we would have found them. Thankfully we did, though, before Chuck or Randy made me call to double check.

Before I had even shut the car off, Tristan came jogging up to us with a big smile.

“Hi,” he greeted when I stepped out of the car and closed the door.

“Hi. Um, you know Chuck. This is her boyfriend Hunter, and this is Randy, my other best friend.”

Randy stayed long enough to wave then took off and joined the other people gently tossing a Frisbee back and forth. Tristan looked after her then turned back to me, confused.

“She really misses playing,” I explained.

I stood awkwardly next to him as Chuck and Hunter sat down at one of the picnic tables in the shelter house.

“You wanna play?”

“Uh…” I wearily eyed the blank expanse of grass and the people running over it, chasing the Frisbee.

“Ever played before?” he asked, sensing my uneasiness.

“No, but don’t you just toss it to each other?”

Tristan laughed. It was a sweet, musical laugh, and it was obvious that he was truly amused by my response.

“Yeah, I guess. But we’re playing Ultimate so it’s a little different.”

“Isn’t that like Frisbee soccer?”

“Kind of, but not really.”

“Right.” I thought of what Randy had said the day before and wondered if having my nose broken really would make Tristan attracted to me. Knowing no one could find a bloody nose “cute,” I decided that the risk of injury was much too high for my tastes, and I began to regret accepting. Why couldn’t they be playing croquet? “I think I’ll just watch for a while.”

Tristan pointed a finger at me and smiled. “I’ll join you. Hey, Erik! Play for me.”

A tall, skinny, dark-haired guy vacated one of two nearby swings and joined the mass of people on the grass. A scraggly haired skeleton of a girl remained in the other swing. I recognized, from the raccoon dye job and the sleazy style of her clothes that it was Audrey – a girl Randy, Chuck, and I had gone to high school with. With any luck, she wouldn’t see us.

I sat on the tabletop behind Chuck and Hunter, and Tristan sat next to me.

“So…” Tristan said, painfully trying to break the awkward silence, “don’t play much Frisbee?”

“I’ve never played. Randy has; she loves it. I think she used to play it all the time back home.”

“Back home?”

“She used to live in San Francisco.”

“Oh, California girl. But you’re from around here?”

“Born and raised.”

He nodded, tapping his fingers against his knees. “I think that’d be cool. Camden’s a cool town. And you could live at home and go to school. You live close to the campus?”

“Yep, just down the street, actually; so do Randy and Chuck.”

“So you’re all like, really good friends.”

“Yeah, we are.”

I laughed a little at the thought. No one had ever asked if we were good friends before. I think most people just assumed we were since we were hardly out of each other’s company, that or everyone was afraid Randy would punch them. Rumor has it that she’s got a pretty nasty right hook.

“Chuck? Josey? Oh my god!”

My breath caught when I heard my name. I would have closed my eyes, but I thought that might have made it a little too obvious that Audrey’s company was not appreciated or welcomed.

“Audrey! How are you?”

“I’m great. You know Erik and I got married a couple of months ago, right? It was a beautiful wedding. You should have come. We went to New York for our honeymoon. I didn’t know you knew Tristan. How do you know him? Tristan!” She giggled playfully and punched him in the arm. “How do you know Josey?”

So many thoughts ran through my head, and every one of them in Randy’s voice. Many suggestions of physical torture also ran through my mind, but none of them were viable options, sadly.

“We have Rues’s History together. Erik’s a good friend of mine from high school,” Tristan added, turning to me. “I didn’t know you guys knew each other.”

“We went to high school together,” I said shortly.

There was once a time when I would have claimed Audrey as a friend but that was before we took Yearbook together our sophomore year. I worked my ass off in that class while she did nothing yet she somehow became the editor. Then to top it off, she would “delegate” her work out to everyone else, yell at them for not doing anything, and chat on the internet the whole time. Then our junior year, we were in the same creative writing class (the one where Chuck and I became friends), and at the end of the year, it was discovered that every one of her poems submitted for class and already printed in the book were plagiarized from unknown foreign rock bands and her pictures were stolen straight off Google. Then she claimed she didn’t understand what she did wrong. On top of her taking advantage of one of the coolest and sweetest guys (no, I did not have a crush on him) that I’d ever met, and he pathetically let her play him.

Needless to say, none of us are her friend.

“So how have you guys been?” she asked. She’d gotten a lot better at faking interest than I remembered.

“We’ve been good,” Chuck said slowly. I think she was equally confused as to why Audrey was trying to have a pleasant conversation with us when we all knew we hated each other.

“Goo—” Suddenly Audrey’s head jerked forward and the most excruciating noise came out of her mouth. All five of us looked around to find the cause and saw a Frisbee lying on the ground at her feet. Audrey spun around quickly to catch the culprit, but with everyone watching expectantly for the return of the Frisbee, they were nearly impossible to find. Except that sometimes Randy just can’t help herself.

“Sorry ‘bout that,” she called. “Wanna toss us back the Frisbee, love?”

“I am not your ‘love’, Audrey muttered heatedly as she threw the disc in their general direction.

Hunter was completely un-phased by the whole ordeal while Tristan looked at Audrey concernedly and Chuck was trying her hardest not to laugh.

“Rogue Frisbee,” I said to Audrey. “It happens.”

“You’re friend kind of has really bad aim,” Tristan said.

“Yeah, she’s been known to do that.” I avoided eye contact with Chuck at all costs lest it should cause us both to finally crack.