Tied

Lunch couldn’t come fast enough.

AP biology was, as usual, a brain-frying flurry of terms and concepts I could barely manage to capture with my pen. When the bell finally rang, I bolted from the seat, threw my heavy book bag over one shoulder, and hurried to the bathroom against a tide of hungry high schoolers. By the time I made it to the safety of the stalls my body was bruised and battered. Raven was waiting for me, jumping up and down on the balls of her feet, fingers anxiously tapping out a phantom melody. When she saw me, a nervous smile blossomed. “Hey.” She half-whispered.

“Hey.” I smiled too, heartbeat unsteady. We stood there in awkward silence for a moment, each waiting for the other to initiate an undoubtedly unusual conversion.

“Well-“ we both started. Another moment passed.

“My- my dreams. Last night. Umm. They were really, really weird.” I whispered.

“Same.” Raven nodded.

“This morning, when I woke up, there were- words. On my side. I can’t get them off. And these words, they fit with my dreams. It’s a quote from Joan of Arc and in my dream I think I was her. I was dressed in armor, facing the English army, with saints at my side.” I finished, speaking rapidly and quietly.

“Can I see?” she whispered.

I pulled up my shirt, baring the bronze skin and dark words. Her fingers traced the lines on my side gently and I shivered involuntarily. Her touch was… nice, a soft fluttering of warmth across my skin. I bit my lip, yanking the shirt back down, hoping she didn’t notice.

“I had strange dreams too.” She furrowed her brow. “It was all darkness and depression, which I suppose makes sense, because this morning I woke up with an Edgar Allan Poe quote on my hip.” Raven dragged up her own shirt, revealing an even scrawl spelling out Quoth the raven, nevermore...”.

I reached out, pressing the pads of my fingers on the words as if I could discern their origin just from touching them. Her skin was wondrously smooth, the contrast of the black ink and white skin like the page of a beloved book.

The door to a bathroom stall banged open behind us.

“Hope I’m not interrupting anything,” Our friend Aurore raised an eyebrow suggestively. Raven and I sprung apart as if we had been burned. “But I had the weird dreams and tattoo thingy too. “ She pulled down her sleeve, the dim yellow bathroom light illuminating yet more words. “My illustrious lordship, I'll show you what a woman can do.” “A quote from one of my favorite painters, Artemisia Gentileschi.” She added, turning on the sink to wash her hands.

“This isn’t weird at all.” I muttered, rubbing the tingling spot on my side.

“I think Zhenia saw it.” Aurore scratched her arm worriedly with paper towels.

“He won't say anything, not without talking to you first. What is “it” in the first place?” Raven groaned, running her fingers through her hair.

“That is an excellent question.” I nodded, turning to Aurore.

“It could be a sign, or a message.” She grinned. You could almost see the wheels in her head grinding, spinning out fantastical explanations. “This is so exciting. Maybe we’re reincarnations of these people.”

“Never really thought about reincarnation before.” I studied the words on my side.

“If I was a reincarnation, I would be a freaking moth.” Raven mumbled.

“One of the ones that glows in the dark.” I informed her. She truly smiled for the first time that day, a brilliant grin that reminded me of a cat purring.

“So Raven is Edgar Allan Poe, Rhea is Joan of Arc, and I'm Artemisia Gentileschi.” Aurore confirmed.

“Why were you in the bathroom in the first place?” Raven asked.

“A girl has needs.” Aurore sputtered indignantly, unsheathing a tube of bright pink lipgloss.

“Putting on lipgloss in the stall?” Raven prompted.

Aurore rolled her eyes and, reaching into her purse, waved a packaged tampon in Raven’s face. “Needs, woman.”

The bell rang for fourth period, and we hurried to gather the various notebooks, jackets, and bags strewn across the tiles. “Text me tonight.” Aurore ordered, sweeping out of the room.

“Alright. Umm. Bye.” I told Raven, balancing a very large AP biology textbook on my hip.

“Bye.” She smiled again, tucking in earbuds as she went.

My stomach grumbled, and for the five hundredth time that day I sighed.