Trinity (53)
It takes a few moments for Katherine to respond. I can’t tell if she’s more shocked or outraged, because from the furrow of her eyebrows it looks like both. She shoots back things like, “You can’t” and “It’s too late” and “What are you so afraid of, anyway?”
Her voice is heated but low; still the whole thing is enough to draw the attention of the closest parents and students, and I glance up and see eyes watching, kids whispering, parents' disapproving glares.
I’d like to stand up straight and hold my ground, but instead I shake my head, not saying a word to Katherine and still afraid to look at Pearl. Then, I flee out the gym doors.
This is a poor plan, because a millisecond later Katherine is right behind me, and behind her, Pearl. The gym door swings shut, and we’re alone in the hallway, and I’m striding by the table Maggie and I had been sitting at, tossing my stack of pamphlets onto it.
“You want someone to read aloud? I’ll fucking do it, how about that?” I hear Pearl hiss from behind me. Her voice is quiet but seething.
Katherine all but squeals in disgust, and I stop in my tracks and turn to look at them. Pearl doesn’t swear like that; she must to have done it just to make Katherine mad.
“Sorry, you can’t; the talent show is only for people with talent,” Katherine bites out.
“Listen here, you–”
“Pearl!” I hold up my hands, worried Katherine and Pearl might actually get into a fistfight.
At that moment, Maggie peeks her head out of the gym doors. “Oh, there you are–” She steps out, glancing between Pearl and Katherine, who are now arguing senselessly. “What’s going on?”
I stare at Maggie helplessly. Funnily, she’s still in her Dorothy blue dress and pigtails.
“I just saw Mr. Dennis heading this way, so you both better shut it before he gets us all in trouble,” Maggie says authoritatively. Surprisingly, they do stop insulting each other.
“Well. I’ve got a job to do,” Katherine says, her nose raised. She purposely doesn’t look in my direction as she turns and reenters the gym.
“Trinity? Pearl?” Maggie looks at us expectantly, and I don’t miss the edge of thrill in her voice. Everything’s so exciting to her.
“I’ll tell you later,” I say. “Can you do me a huge favor? Can you tell Mrs. Vena that I’m not going to be in the talent show?”
Maggie frowns. “Oh. Yeah, ok…” She eyes Pearl, then me. “Does this have to do with Katherine?”
I shake my head. “No, I’m just…” I sigh. “I don’t want to do it. I’ll–I’ll be helping with the bake sale instead.”
I know Maggie’s too curious and far too clever to be satisfied with that answer, but, to her credit, she just nods. “Alright, I’ll tell her.” She’s about to go back to the assembly, but pauses and gives me a sideways grin. “You better fill me in on everything later.”
I just laugh a little, and nod.
Then it’s just Pearl and I, again. I close my eyes and shake out my arms, tension that I swear has been building for days finally being released. No essay, no story, no one watching or silently judging. Another laugh escapes me as my eyes open.
“What did I just do?”
I find Pearl staring at me, her eyes as wide as always and an unreadable expression on her face. “Sorry, I–”
I flap a hand at her. “Sorry? I'm sorry. Your story! But don't worry, I wasn't ever going to read it. But I can’t believe I actually did that! And my dad’s in there, what am I gonna tell him when I don’t appear on stage?”
Pearl just shakes her head, and a slow grin spreads across her face. “Doesn’t matter!” Suddenly, she’s giggling, coming closer to stand by me, and I laugh too, giddy.
.
Pearl and I wander through the halls, because neither of us particularly want to go back to the talent assembly at the moment. The walls by the cafeteria are lined with old photos of alumni, and we stop and stare at them for a while, picking out names we recognize. Most people’s parents went here before they did, which is weird to both of us because our parents went to different schools.
“Matthew Davies,” Katherine reads, leaning in so close to see the small print that her nose almost touches the glass of the frame. She points to a smiling boy in the second row.
I lean in next to her to get a better look. “And that’s got to be her mom, it looks just like her.” I point to a girl standing just beneath the boy. She's thinner than Katherine, but has the same round face, sharp eyebrows, long hair.
I think for a moment, then say, “Actually, I feel like Maggie told me once that Katherine’s parents went here, and they were the only people either of them ever dated. I think she said they went to the same college, and got married right after.”
“Of course Maggie would know that,” Pearl says with an eye roll. But a good-natured eye roll. I think. “Can you imagine that? Finding your soulmate here? Now?”
I must look visibly appalled, because she laughs when she looks over at me. She pushes her ponytail over her shoulder and stands up straight. “Yeah, gross, right?”
I pick at the band aid around my finger. “You don’t really believe in soulmates, do you?”
Pearl cocks her head. “No. Not really. I think it’s impossible that there can only be one right answer. That’s ridiculous, when there’s so many people everywhere. Maybe soulmates. I dunno.”
I eye her, but she’s turned her head away, seemingly embarrassed. I can see color spreading across her cheeks, and I wonder if she’s thinking about Amber. I wonder if it’s that easy for her. That quick.
I feel a hollowness that’s become an uncomfortable and far too common feeling for me. “I don’t think I have any soulmates. Do you think that’s possible?” I ask slowly.
She looks back at me and gives me a thin smile. I think it’s meant to be reassuring, which I appreciate. “I think that’s perfectly valid,” she says, her words clear even as they overlap with someone further down the hallway.
“Sorry we’re so late!” Jackson is carrying a large box of what must be baked goods, Henry trailing behind with a bemused smile.
Immediately Pearl’s demeanor changes, and her face splits into a overexaggerated grin. “Oh, finally! Thought you two had fallen into a black hole. In fact, Henry, you actually look like you've just climbed out of one.”
I hang back a little, listening to the three of them chatter. In the back of my mind, I wonder why it doesn’t really bother me to think that I don’t have a soulmate. Or mates.
Instead, it bothers me to think that I should want one.
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(first part: https://theprose.com/post/432343/trinity)
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(previous part: https://theprose.com/post/466273/trinity-52)
(next part: https://theprose.com/post/466969/trinity-54)