Mark My Words

82 | A Little Reminder Required

Rosalie studied the brick wall in her bedroom until her eyes grew foggy with sleep. She could feel final exams already weighing on her, though exams wouldn't be happening for another three months. Still, despite the pressure to do well, get good grades, maintain her GPA... she couldn't fight the intense, burning sensation in her chest that fired up at the thought of Arden Dodge.

A Kaiserslautern match was playing on her computer, where she could watch Joanna on the same field as Arden, on the same side as Arden. She could watch the season on repeat and watch Joanna tackle Arden after they won a match from early in Joanna's Kaiserslautern season. It was all from a faraway view, where Rosalie felt her soul floating off and away—away from where she could watch the way Arden spun Joanna, an arm around her back, her free fist thrust in the air in triumph.

The two things Arden wanted the most—to win every game and Joanna Spencer.

That isn't far off from how I feel now, Rosalie thought, the hot, angry sensation in her chest dwindling into muted discomfort. She wasn't Arden, nor would she ever be. She was different. She was normal.

She rubbed a finger against the scar and sighed. Am I normal? She wondered, distantly, as her thoughts then spiraled around Joanna.

She tipped back on her bed, legs strewn to the side. Beside her, Khoshekh mewed as he rose, arced his back, and stretched out next to her side. She folded an arm over him and idly stroked his fur as she considered the parts of prom she would miss without Joanna there. They wouldn't get their photos taken together. They wouldn't dance together, wear fancy dresses together. Though, she couldn't picture Joanna in a ballgown. Lately, Rosalie couldn't picture herself in dresses, but she blamed practice on that. She constantly felt gross, but perhaps that was a deeply-seeded emotional problem that had to do with the way she was treating Joanna.

She wanted to treat Joanna right for once, dammit. Joanna had spent all of fall semester catering to her.

She grabbed her phone and dialed up the person she knew would have answers. Someone capable of helping her. Someone... in a relationship, who appreciated her relationship with Joanna. Someone who knew Joanna well.

She put her phone to her ear and waited through the rings. They chimed before cutting off abruptly to the sound of, "Well hey hey, Mason."

"Jamie-Lee, hey," Rosalie said with a nervous smile. She sat up a bit, pushed up to her elbow, still scratching Khoshekh's belly. "Listen, I need your help with something."

"Absolutely anything. I'm down," he said, and so Rosalie took a deep breath and prepared to unleash everything that was on her mind—from Arden to Joanna and everything in between. And, then, she confessed the one thing she could offer without sacrificing her USW career with Joanna.

"I want to ask Joanna to prom, but it needs to be... big, I think. Something she can't turn down," Rosalie said, but the moment she said it, she worried that 'big' wasn't Joanna's style.

But then again, they were talking about a girl who danced to ABBA down the center aisle during the Homecoming crowning. Rosalie didn't die from embarrassment then, but she was certainly close. It was only fair that she returned the favor. It would take more than her handful of confidence to do whatever Jamie-Lee had on his mind.

"Give me a day to think about it," Jamie said. "Do you mind if I ask Blake about it?"

"Yeah, sure," she said. If anyone would have a flamboyantly gay idea, it would be Blake Miles, the king of Adam High.

All it took, though, was admitting she wanted to do something for Joanna. The moment she hung up, the weight of that knowledge was lifted from her mind where a new idea sunk in. It clung to her all that night as she rationalized, No, that's too out-there. Joanna would never go for it. All the next morning as she poured a mug of coffee for herself, she could only think, But... it might work? Is it too crazy? No, it's just crazy enough. This is Joanna we're talking about.