Mask of Celibacy: A Multimedia Novella

17 ¦ Politics and Proms

Eric made his way to the burger bar while Helen and I stuck with the classics. "Hey, avoid the meatloaf. It sucks," Helen said. "The chicken is often rubbery, but the pasta rocks. Too bad you won't be here for Taco Tuesday."

"Mmmm, Tacos," I said in a Homer Simpson voice.

She chuckled. "They have mac and cheese today. That's my recommendation."

Comfort food. Yum. 

It had that decadent cheesy, gooey texture without being a mushy, lumpy mess like many such cafeteria dishes. We both went to the salad bar and helped ourselves to fresh greens. 

Helen and I found an empty table and waited for Eric, who returned a few moments later with two burgers, fries, a giant salad, and two sodas. 

"Where the heck do you put it all?" Helen teased. 

Eric shrugged and gave us a cheeky smile. "Must be all the weight lifting I do."

She chuckled, and I gave a shy, polite smile. Chit-chat wasn't really my thing, and I didn't want to do anything wrong. For all I knew, Eric did lift a lot of weights and spend hours in the gym. 

"So, Miss Linguist, are you psyched about graduation?" Helen asked in a friendly, upbeat tone. 

"Oh, yeah. But also nervous about acceptance letters. Mine will be coming any day now."

"I bet. Where do you want to go?" she asked.

"Well, I applied to Boston College, but that's a reach school."

She furrowed her brow. "Really? What's your GPA?"

"It's not my grades as much as it's--" I swallowed the lump in my throat, and it had nothing to do with the mac and cheese. "I need scholarships. Without funding, I can't go."

"Hey, almost everyone does," Helen said with a reassuring tone. "It costs 50K to go here with room and board. I mean, who the hell has 200K lying around? Jesus, that's two years' salary."

More like ten.

"My grandparents were my official guardians until I turned eighteen." I stared at my plate and poked at my food in embarrassment. "If I don't get a full ride, I can't study. They can't afford it."

I braved a look at Helen, but I couldn't face Eric. She gave me a pitiful look at me up and down. "Awww, that explains it."

Eric set his cutlery down heavily on his plate, and I turned to him. He was casting daggers at Helen, who began to blush furiously. 

"I--I mean... That explains why a smart girl like you thinks it's a reach school. I mean..." 

Her voice trailed off, and she cleared her throat and began to eat her salad to avoid speaking. Eric cast me an apologetic look as if to say, Don't listen to her. She's being a dumb-ass.

"Anyway, I'm hoping to get accepted into Fitchburg State College for a year with a scholarship and reassess my options," I said, trying to break the tension. 

"Holy Cross has a needs-based financial aid program," Eric said. "They don't turn anyone away because they don't have money."

"That's true," Helen said, recovered from her social blunder. "They can give you a combination of work-study, scholarships, and federal funding."

"Dang it," I said in between bites. "I wish I'd known that before."

"You can transfer here," Eric blurted out before adding, "if you like it."

Helen tried to hide a smile behind her napkin, and my cheeks burned up like two red giants. Eric stared down at his plate and stabbed a fry.

"It's good to consider all viable options," he said. 

"It is awesome here so far."

Eric met my gaze and returned my shy smile. Helen broke the tension by asking, "Hey, so when's prom, Jess? I can give you all sorts of fashion tips for hairstyles and dresses and accessories."

Inwardly, I cringed. She was trying to make up for her previous blunder, but I couldn't face the idea of prom. The money required. The date I didn't have. The dance skills I didn't possess.

"I'm probably not going to go," I muttered.

"What? O-M-G, you have to go, Jess!" Helen exclaimed. "It's a once-in-a-lifetime experience."

"I can't even dance."

"Well, we can fix that, can't we, Eric?" Helen asked. "Did you know this kid rocks the dance floor? He's like the best clubbing partner. Skilled, but no awkward funny business."

Eric groaned. "Helen!"

"He's just being humble," she whispered, rolling her eyes. "If he teaches you dance moves and I give you some style, you'll have all the guys in the class asking to dance with you."

Eric sighed with impatience. I cast him an inquisitive, curious look, which he returned with a nonchalant shrug. "Maybe I can dance...a little."

"We should go to the Loyola Ballroom, and you can teach Jess some of your moves," Helen suggested. "Seriously he's a better dancer than me. And that's saying something."

He finished the last bite of his burger and gave Helen a look of death. "You should make your own decision about prom, Jess."

For a moment, I considered their words. The rational part of me couldn't be bothered worrying about prom. But a small part of me thought a dance lesson with Eric and Helen might be fun.

"Maybe if you guys taught me some moves, I'd look like less of an idiot if I did decide to go."

Helen gave an excitable little squee. "Awesome! Let's do it tonight after the library tour."

"Tonight is movie night," Eric said, giving me a furtive glance. "The Star Wars Trilogy. Remastered. You're both welcome to join us. We're having pizza."

Helen shouted, "Pizza!" at the same time I shouted, "Star Wars!"

"We're starting at seven so that we can binge-watch all three movies."

"Don't know if I can stand that much nerd," Helen said with a wink. "Just kidding. I'll do anything for free pizza. Jess?"

"I'd love to go."

"Great, I'll see you then," Eric replied, looking only at me. Then he cast a quick glance at Helen, who grinned.

A faint blush spread across his cheeks as he rose to return his tray to the cleaning area. As soon as he was out of hearing range, Helen whispered to me.

"Man, never saw anything like it."

"What?" I asked, puzzled.

"He's got it bad."