Yolo (19 page)

mad maddie:

one sec. gotta swipe meal-plan card.

SnowAngel:

I just changed the bandage on my foot—or rather, Reid did. it was nasty and involved ooze.

mad maddie:

and it seems I'll be passing on the mashed potatoes and gravy I just paid for. thx, A.

SnowAngel:

also you can totally still see the hole. it's starting to heal over, but if I wanted to, I bet I cld poke a pencil thru it.

mad maddie:

you do that. enjoy!

SnowAngel:

“doodie”?

mad maddie:

grrr. *doodie

mad maddie:

*DUDE

mad maddie:

fricking autocorrect!

SnowAngel:

hee hee. I was txting my sister the other day, and she told me she loved her high school friends but hated all the homoeroticism.

mad maddie:

ha!

SnowAngel:

she meant homework. it made me laugh.

SnowAngel:

and then this morning, I texted Aunt Sadie to get her advice about Reid. I wanted to know how to be his friend without leading him on, and she said that mainly I'd just have to curb my natural instinct to flirt with him.

mad maddie:

is that possible? u flirt with everyone.

mad maddie:

u flirt with trees, for heaven's sake

SnowAngel:

that's what I told her! so she texted me back and said, “sweetheart, I'm not saying it'll be easy. but I promise you can't do it.”

mad maddie:

ha. so supportive.

SnowAngel:

I was like, “Really, Aunt Sadie? You have THAT MUCH FAITH in me?”

SnowAngel:

she had to reread our exchange to know what I was talking about, and then she was mortified.

mad maddie:

typing “can't” instead of “can” isn't an autocorrect, tho. just a typo.

SnowAngel:

whatev. still funny.

mad maddie:

my best/worst autocorrect was when I txted Ian the other day.

SnowAngel:

how is that cute Ian? I saw him for like ten minutes on the quad before I had to dash off to the Zeta house for lunch. he looked happy, tho. is he?

mad maddie:

I think so. he likes his roommate. he LOVES his engineering classes—and he knows Reid, btw.

SnowAngel:

I know! and they like each other—yay!

mad maddie:

and he plays Halo with a bunch of guys on his hall, and he says they're pretty cool, so yeah, I think he's having fun.

SnowAngel:

he misses you like crazy, I bet

mad maddie:

yeah. well. we avoid that topic.

SnowAngel:

why?

mad maddie:

what do you mean, why

mad maddie:

what's the point of torturing ourselves by talking about something we can't have?

SnowAngel:

SnowAngel:

um, because sharing your feelings would make you feel better?

mad maddie:

ohhhh

mad maddie:

and what wld I say? that I wish I'd gone to UGA instead of Santa Cruz so that we cld hold hands and walk to class together and crawl into the same bed every night? that California is so much farther away than I thought? that without him, I feel like I'm dying inside?

SnowAngel:

oh, Maddie

mad maddie:

that's Zoe, not me. feeling sorry for yrself is an exercise in futility.

SnowAngel:

but . . .

SnowAngel:

argh. I knew you missed Ian—duh—but I had no idea how much. I mean, you're always talking about casinos and tigers and hot dog donuts. I just assumed you were having a super-fun time and that Santa Cruz was awesome.

mad maddie:

I *am* having a super-fun time and SC *is* awesome, and I keep myself busy on purpose so that I can live in denial at the same time.

mad maddie:

can we move on?

SnowAngel:

but . . . but . . . I don't want you to feel like you're dying inside!

mad maddie:

omg. and apparently I shldn't have told you, either.

mad maddie:

do you want to hear my worst autocorrect or not?

SnowAngel:

um, sure

mad maddie:

you'll like it, I promise.

mad maddie:

I sent Ian a text about scarfing down Flamin' Hot Cheetos and guzzling a Coke, but autocorrect decided I was guzzling a cock.

SnowAngel:

ha!

SnowAngel:

bet Ian loved that. bet it made him wish you were there to guzzle HIS cock.

mad maddie:

Angela? to guzzle means “to drink greedily.” (thank u, dictionary app)

SnowAngel:

ok, then nuzzle! it's a good idea to NUZZLE a cock, isn't it?

mad maddie:

only way to find out is to try. yr Aunt Sadie won't approve, but Reid will be thrilled.

mad maddie:

urrrrggghhhh. noooooooo.

zoegirl:

I keep telling myself to get up and go for a walk, because I know it would make me feel better. but I can't. it's like I'm physically stuck.

zoegirl:

it's actually kind of freaking me out

mad maddie:

ZOE

mad maddie:

do you think yr truly depressed? do you think you shld see a doctor?

zoegirl:

I don't feel like *me*.

zoegirl:

I know I was happy once, but I can't remember what it feels like.

mad maddie:

ok, babes? yr scaring me, cuz YOU ARE A HAPPY PERSON. you're wired that way. and we've had so many happy times together!

zoegirl:

yeah . . . ?

mad maddie:

omg. YES. like the last week of high school, when we had the mud slide and you and Angela and I got soooo filthy. that was so. much. fun. you can remember that, can't u?

zoegirl:

I can see it in my mind, but it's like . . .

zoegirl:

it's like there's glass between me and that girl. I can remember the idea of being happy, but I can't remember the feeling.

mad maddie:

maybe you shld go to Kenyon's health clinic. talk to a counselor or something.

zoegirl:

boohoo, my high school boyfriend and I broke up in the first semester of college, just like everyone in the world said we would. so original.

mad maddie:

who said you and Doug were going to break up?

zoegirl:

oh, I don't know.

zoegirl:

maybe no one said that specifically, but my parents said things like, “we like Doug very much, but don't limit yourself” and “most high school relationships don't last, you know. you need to prepare yourself for that possibility.”

mad maddie:

prepare yrself to have yr heart broken? that seems . . .

mad maddie:

well, it seems cruel, almost. and how does focusing on the negative help? wldn't it be better to put a smile on and hope for the best?

zoegirl:

that makes me think of Ian's last Instagram pic. the one of him making a heart with his hands with the caption “missing my girl.” made me want to cry and smile at the same time.

mad maddie:

I liked that one too. I have NOT been liking all the bleak landscape pics you've been posting.

zoegirl:

that's what I see when I look out my window, so . . .

zoegirl:

I'm following Zara now, btw.

mad maddie:

Zara? as in my roommate Zara? you're following her on Instagram?

zoegirl:

I found her on your profile page. you don't post enough pictures, and I wanted to learn more about your new California life.

zoegirl:

I'm confused about one of the pictures she posted, though. the one of the bathroom in y'all's suite where it looks as if everyone doodles and writes notes on the tiles using Sharpies.

mad maddie:

the RA doesn't care. Zara promised we'd clean it all off at the end of the year.

zoegirl:

I don't care about that—and anyway, it's really cute, all those white tiles with smiley faces and hearts and peace signs drawn on them. and that dragon! whoever drew that dragon is GOOD.

zoegirl:

but the notes say things like “Rock it, Z!” and “hugs to Neesa” and something about how Erica should call Frank “Francis”?

mad maddie:

he's just a guy that hangs out with that group.

mad maddie:

our group.

mad maddie:

his real name is Francis. go fig.

zoegirl:

ok, but why no “hugs to Maddie”?

zoegirl:

why are there no notes to you at all?

mad maddie:

that's a weird question

zoegirl:

is it?

zoegirl:

no notes from you either

mad maddie:

well, Zoe, here is why. Zara's Instagram pic only shows two walls of the bathroom. two out of . . . I dunno, ten or twelve including the stalls and showers.

mad maddie:

what did you think, that everyone in the suite decorated the bathroom except me?

zoegirl:

well . . . *shrugs*

mad maddie:

omg, I'm so offended! or I wld be if I weren't laughing so hard.

mad maddie:

I've written stuff on the tiles too. they're just not in that pic.

mad maddie:

crazy girl!