Open House(19)

The hunting pony stares back at us, too perfect for his own good.

Josie’s a better artist than me. It’s something I think she knows but would never speak of. Her work is textured and deconstructed. She tears materials to threads, and then reassembles them into color patterns birthed from her fingertips, making something no one else saw possible. Every professor we have drools over her except for Priya Khatri, our watercolor teacher, which is one of many reasons I like Priya’s class the best. Josie’s talent makes me jealous, but it also makes me love her even more, and not in the way anyone would think: I don’t want her to be my girlfriend or something like that. I just want to be close to her.

“I need to shower,” I say.

Josie makes a face like Really? but then she shrugs and goes to our sink. She turns the faucet on, and the sound of water fills our tiny room. I wait until she starts splashing her face, knowing her back will be turned long enough for me to dig in my bottom drawer and get what I need.

“Are you sure Noah’s home?” Josie asks, her voice muffled in her hands. “Did you talk to him?”

I rifle inside the plastic bag. “They’re having people over, not just us,” I say, trying to sound casual.

“You think you’re gonna get me into the woods, don’t you?” Josie asks.

I whip around to face her. Noah and I had been talking about going to a party in the woods tonight because the temperature’s finally in the forties and a bunch of his lacrosse friends are going. I didn’t tell Josie that, because she’s scared of the woods, and we thought we’d have a better chance of convincing her if we were all together at Noah’s apartment and she was already drinking. The guys have food, drinks, and a tent packed in Noah’s Jeep in case we decide to sleep there, and my job is making sure Josie wears her long puffer coat.

“Maybe,” I say, trying not to smile. It’s funny seeing something that makes Josie nervous, and it’s so random: she grew up in the country, for God’s sake. How is she so afraid of the outdoors?

She rolls her eyes. “You and Noah aren’t as sneaky as you think you are,” she says, but there’s no menace in her voice because she’s so sure she’s right. When she turns back to the sink, I stuff the pregnancy test into my purse. There’s a chance she asks why I’m bringing my bag into the bathroom, but she probably won’t, and I need to do it tonight because I need to know if it’s real; I need to know if that’s why I’ve been feeling so off these past weeks, and I need to know before I see either of them. If it’s real, if there’s a baby in there, I know whose it is without a doubt, because my cycle is like clockwork, and obviously I know the days to avoid having sex.

I can’t even imagine how upset my parents will be.

Josie turns from the sink and stares at me like she can read my thoughts. Water beads all over her face. “I’ll go to the woods,” she says. “I’ll invite Chris. He knows those woods like the back of his hand.” She says it a little too proudly, like it’s an important feat, and then adds, “I’ll feel safer with him there.”

“Okay,” I say, nervous. Does she know I kissed him? “It’ll be a good night,” I say, but it doesn’t feel like the truth.

We stare at each other, and I force a smile. Then I turn and leave her standing alone at the sink. My legs are trembling as I head down the long hallway to the girls’ room, and before I get there my phone buzzes with a text from Haley.

I’m downstairs. Come sign me in before I freeze.

I cut right to the elevator. As it descends to the lobby, I try to make my face normal, not like someone about to take her first pregnancy test. Haley knows me better than anyone, and it’s uncanny the stuff she can intuit.

The elevator doors open to the lobby, and I see Haley standing near a crappy floral painting that belongs in a Florida hotel. “Hey!” I say as cheerily as I can. “Who signed you in?”

Haley nods toward a girl I don’t recognize sitting at the check-in desk. The girl ignores us, her nose buried in a book. I turn back to Haley and smile at the sight of her in my dorm. Her black hair is cropped, and she wears an old army jacket of mine and combat boots. Her eyes flicker over me like always, seeing me. We throw our arms around each other because that’s what we always do. “Here,” she says when I finally pull away, thrusting a Ziploc bag full of sugar cookies into my hands.

“Thanks,” I say, opening the bag, trying one. The smell of sugar fills the lobby air. “You could sell these,” I say between bites. “They’re amazing.”

“I’m trying to get in touch with my nurturing side,” Haley says.

I burst out laughing, but Haley’s face falls so fast I realize she was being serious. “Sorry,” I say. She’s an oddball, but she’s my oddball. “Seriously, they’re delicious.” She smiles at me, and I ask, “Do you think there’s any way Mom lets you come tonight?”

“No way,” she says. “You know that.”

“I do,” I say with a shrug. “But what if you . . .” My voice trails off.

“What if I snuck out again?” she finishes.

“Exactly,” I say, swallowing the rest of my cookie. “I don’t want to be alone tonight.”

“You’re not alone,” Haley says. “It’s a party.”