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welcometophu · 6 years ago

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Missed Fortunes: Beneath 4

Twinned Book 2: Missed Fortunes

Beneath 4

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“Cass says you’re surprisingly good to talk to, without all the emotional overhead that goes along with talking to Heather.” Trish drops next to Carolyn on the couch in the common room, puts her feet up on the coffee table.

The cowboy boots are new, or at least Carolyn hasn’t seen them before. The stitching looks custom, and she leans forward, trying to identify the pattern. The swirls don’t seem to make sense, and the color of the thread isn’t Trish’s usual orange. Instead on the outside of the leg, the stitching shades from pink at the top, through a narrow purple band in the middle, and blue at the bottom. On the inside of the leg, the pink shades to yellow, then a brighter blue.

Trish has them placed prominently enough that Carolyn suspects she’s supposed to say something. She’s not sure what to say without sounding awkward, which goes entirely against Trish’s comment that she’s good to talk to.

Or maybe it’s good that Carolyn doesn’t talk back. Maybe that’s what they like about her.

Trish straightens up, drops her feet to the floor. The boots disappear, no longer a part of the conversation. “Want to go over to Teas Please?”

Carolyn frowns. Her homework is spread out on the table, her deck near where Trish’s boots had been moments before. She still needs to get her project together for the independent study; Pawel had let it go this week, but she knows he’s waiting. “Why?”

“For tea,” Trish says blandly. She stands up, reaches for Carolyn and tugs her to standing as well. “Clean up here, drop your stuff in your room. I’m getting you out of here.”

Carolyn’s certain Trish has some kind of ulterior motive, and equally certain that she isn’t going to find out what it is until Trish is ready to explain. She gathers up her things and takes them up to her room, where Heather and Nik lie curled on Heather’s bed. She mutters, “Sorry for interrupting,” and tosses everything on her desk. She picks up her deck again, throws the bag into her purse and puts it over her shoulder. Just in case.

“Going out?” Heather asks.

Carolyn glances at her. Heather’s hair is still half in a ponytail, but the rest is wisps around her face and curling along her neck. There are red marks on her throat, both bruised and lipstick. Nikita lies back on the bed, her shirt rucked up and wrinkled, a smile lifting her lips.

Carolyn coughs. “Yeah. Tea. With Trish. I don’t know how long we’ll be but I’ll just—” She motions at the door. “Go ahead and lock it. I’ve got my key. Maybe text me when it’s okay to come back.”

“We will,” Nikita calls out, wiggling her fingers. “Go have fun, Carolyn. I’ll take care of Heather.”

Take care of Heather.

Right.

Carolyn ducks out, closing the door with more force than is needed. She’s still standing there when she hears someone throw the lock on the other side, locking the world out.

Maybe Carolyn needs a single next year. Or they could get an apartment where she could have her own room.

Trish is waiting downstairs when she gets there, Carolyn’s jacket hanging from her fingertips. Carolyn shrugs into it quickly, pulling on gloves and a hat before venturing out into the chill. Trish has a scarf in front of her face, muffling her words.

“It’s so much colder here than Nashville,” Trish says. “Feels like I ought to be used to it by now, but I’m not.” She walks with long strides, quicker than Carolyn. The cold air bites into Carolyn’s lungs as she rushes to keep up, and for a moment she wishes Trish had suggested taking her truck.

It feels like a waste to drive such a short distance, but at least it would be warm.

Carolyn doesn’t recognize the hostess who meets them at the door, but she spots Serina waiting tables in the front, and Nate’s on in the back. Nate waves and Serina rushes up to their table as soon as the hostess seats them in their section. She plunks down two empty glasses, then brings out a pitcher and fills them with water.

“Welcome to Teas Please,” Serina says cheerfully. “Are you here for tea or dessert tonight?” She leans in closer, asks quietly, “Are we eating our emotions again? Should I be worried about you, Carolyn?”

“I just wanted to get out of the house, and I dragged Carolyn along with me,” Trish says easily. “I want a smoothie with coconut milk, honey, mango, pineapple, carrot, and bee pollen.”

Serina writes it down quickly, turns to Carolyn. Her brow is still furrowed, smoothing when Carolyn does her best to smile.

“I’d like the vanilla rooibos,” Carolyn decides.

Serina looks like she bites back a laugh. “I don’t think we have any gummy bears,” she says.

“That’s ice cream; I don’t need to drown them in my tea,” Carolyn replies. Trish makes a bewildered noise, but Carolyn likes the way this makes Serina smile, like it’s something just for them. “Honey on the side would be nice, though.”

Serina finishes writing with a flourish, then tucks the pen behind her ear. “Got it. If you need anything before the tea is out, just give a yell. And be nice to Nate; he’s moody tonight.”

“Are you going to be offended if I don’t talk your ear off in front of Serina?” Trish asks, leaning on the table. “I know you and she and Cass have been doing the going out thing, but I don’t feel like I know her as well.”

“I don’t think Cass knows her very well, either, and she seems to be doing fine.” Carolyn feels a little like the conversation just shifted and she was supposed to follow along. “What is this about, Trish?”

“I talked to Cass at outreach last night,” Trish says. She leans back, and something pokes Carolyn’s foot. Carolyn adjusts, giving Trish room for her legs.

“And?” Carolyn asks. She touches her pocketbook, then slides it off, hanging it on her chair. She grabs her deck from it first, lays the bag on the table, noting the way Trish’s gaze drifts to it. “Did you want a reading?”

“That wasn’t what I had in mind, but it’s not necessarily a bad idea,” Trish admits. “I just wanted someone to talk to. And Cass said she’s been talking to you. And we all know Cass hates talking to anyone, so I figured that meant you have a good ear.”

“I’m not good at advice,” Carolyn says quietly. She lays her hand on the bag, then carefully opens it, pulls her deck out and sets it on top of the soft fabric. “The cards might help. But I don’t always know what to say without them.”

“Maybe I just need someone to listen,” Trish mutters. “You already know about me Emerging.” She touches the side of her face, her finger sliding along her own cheek like it skates over a barrier there. “But there’s this other thing that’s driving me nuts. And it shouldn’t be. I mean, it really, really shouldn’t be. Because I’m poly, okay? I don’t need to have one person and just keep them to myself, and I never really wanted that. I’ve dated a lot of guys and a lot of girls. I’ve had one night stands because it seemed like fun, and I’ve had longer relationships. But they were all open, and that was fine, and I didn’t mind. It’s what I like.”

Carolyn blinks, completely unsure how to handle that explanation. “What’s wrong, then?”

“It’s Sera.” Trish’s voice goes flat, and somehow, Carolyn isn’t surprised. Of course it’s Sera. Trish and Sera have been inseparable since Sera first showed up at the house during Rush. Sera never intended to become a sorority sister, but she and Trish still became best friends. Sera’s at the house more than most of their newest sisters.

“I thought you two were still living in each other’s pockets,” Carolyn says slowly, trying to feel for where the cracks have intruded on the relationship. “She was with you over winter break, right?”

“Yeah, and we’re going down to New York for spring break in a month, too,” Trish says. She picks up her napkin, picking at it. “We’re staying with TJ. She and TJ are—flirting, I think. Or more. I’m not sure. Sera’s not talking about it. And I honestly thought TJ was gay, but he’s flirting back.”

Carolyn’s gaze flicks to where Nate stands at a table, laughing with the three girls and one guy sitting there. “Gay guys flirt,” she points out. “With girls.”

“TJ is flirting with intention,” Trish mutters. “And I’m jealous, and I hate it.”

“Does Sera know you like her?” It seems like the obvious question, but Trish still flinches when Carolyn asks it. “Trish,” she says quietly. “For all you know, Sera’s pan and poly, too.”

Trish holds a hand up, one finger in the air. “That I know the answer to. She’s not poly, and she’s confused about what it even means, and thinks that I’m promiscuous. She’s also pretty sure I’ve slept with Thorne at some point, because we’re the only poly people she knows. Which I haven’t. She thinks we have a rock star attitude, and she’s looking for something more stable. Which doesn’t seem to match up with the whole skater girl thing, but Sera’s actually kind of a marshmallow on the inside, behind the outer fuck you.”

Trish pauses, lowers her hand slowly. “Hang on.” She picks up her phone and taps on the screen quickly.

“Is this the other thing that’s been bothering you?” Carolyn asks when Trish lowers her phone again. “Because you’ve been absent as a sister. A lot.”

“I was at outreach on Wednesday.”

“We all had to sign up for one, and that one was music related. Of course you were there,” Carolyn says. It seems obvious to her that Trish has been doing the minimum for the house. She arrives late for Chapter meetings, she leaves early from house dinners. She has Sera with her more often than not. “What about Soledad?”

Trish leans back as Serina sets a pot down on the table in front of Carolyn, a timer clicking away next to it. Serina slides a glass to Trish, the straw sticking out. “Nate says to tell you that he’ll be over for his break because he wants to say hi,” Serina says. “Do you need anything else?”

Carolyn gets the feeling that Serina might have been right, and this has the potential to be another eating emotions night. She also really doesn’t want to, not again, not this soon. “I think we’re good,” she says, as Trish noisily sucks at her smoothie.

Serina touches Carolyn’s shoulder. “Just wave if there’s anything else you need,” she says before leaving.

Carolyn waits. She asked the last question, and she figures if she leaves it long enough, Trish will either answer or change the subject. When her timer dings, she takes the little basket of leaves out of her teapot, setting it aside to drain, and pours a cup for herself.

“There’s nothing wrong with me and Soledad,” Trish says quietly. “I just haven’t been spending enough time with her. And we didn’t get close, not like you and Drea. I don’t feel comfortable talking to her about things like Emerging, and sex.”

“I don’t know what Cass told you, but I am probably not the best person to talk to about relationships or sex.” Carolyn picks up the tea in both hands, sips at it cautiously. “I haven’t had a relationship since high school. And that one was not good, as you may have guessed after meeting Shawn.”

“We figured it out,” Trish agrees. “And I get that you don’t think you have any experience to offer. But you listen. And you pay attention to people. And you have your cards, which means you’re always thinking about how people fit together, and the consequences of actions.”

Maybe she has a point.

“You still need to get your shit together and fix things with Soledad,” Carolyn says. “She thinks you hate her.”

“I will.” Trish takes a long slurp, her smoothie almost gone already. She pushes one chair out with her foot. “Hey, Nate. You’re on break.”

“I’m on break. I’m exhausted. I’m stealing your chair,” Nate announces as he slides into the seat. He sinks down, the back of his hand against his forehead in an overly dramatic gesture. “I am wiped out. Absolutely wiped out.”

“Are you all out of flirt? I don’t think I’ve ever seen this,” Trish tells him.

Nate swats at her. “It’s been a long week. I worked Tuesday, since I don’t have any regular romantic prospects, and no, you don’t get to ask why. He is beautiful, and unattainable, and I have accepted that.”

“Is he straight?” Trish asks, and Nate just sighs. Trish lifts her glass in silent toast, and Nate knocks it with his knuckles. “Never crush on the straight ones,” Trish says.

“Amen.”

Trish finishes her smoothie with the next long pull through the straw. Carolyn watches her, waits for the conversation to shift. Nate closes his eyes, crosses his arms and tilts his head back.

“One card draw,” Trish finally says slowly. “I’m crushing so hard I’m actually jealous. Nate’s crushing on someone unattainable. And apparently, your taste in relationships is shit. So. Once card draw for each of us. What do you think?”

Carolyn thinks she could do with being left out of the equation, but it doesn’t sound like Trish is going to do that. “Okay,” she agrees, setting her tea cup down and moving it carefully out of the way. She spills her cards into her hands, shuffles them quickly before setting them in the middle of the table. “Whichever one of you is going first, cut the deck, turn over the card that appeals to you most.”

Trish reaches for the deck, neatly picks up almost all of it and sets it to one side, then flips over the card on the top of the small remaining stack.

The Eight of Pentacles. A smiling dark haired woman, looking down at a rose which just happens to be surrounded by pentacles.

“I know there’s a rose, and that make you think this is about love, but this isn’t a relationship card,” Carolyn says. “It’s a card about workmanship. About trial and error, and about perfecting a craft. This is more likely to be about your music, or about—” She stops abruptly, not wanting to refer to Trish’s Emergence in front of Nate.

“I get it,” Trish says. “Deal with the practical, and let love fall where it may. What about Nate?”

Nate opens his eyes, sits up as Carolyn shuffles the deck and sets it in front of him. Instead of cutting it, he fans it out across the table, closes his eyes, and fishes a card out of the center of the deck. “This one,” he says, laying it face up on the table.

“Seven of phallic symbols,” Nate deadpans. “How appropriate. Why am I fighting them off?”

“It isn’t necessarily about fighting off dicks, Nate,” Trish says, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “You’ve got one in the hand, after all.”

Carolyn’s cheeks heat, flushed and warm. “The Seven of Wands is about valor and taking risks,” she says quickly, before either of them can continue down that road. “This is your moment, so seize it and act. But don’t get conceited, either; if you’re an ass about it, you can fail. Figure out what risks are worth taking and take those, then move on.”

Nate sits quietly, fingers touching the card. “Yeah. I—I’m not sure I’m ready to take risks right now. But I’ll keep the advice in mind.”

“Maybe when you’re ready, the risk will be worth taking,” Trish counsels, rubbing his back lightly as Nate leans into her touch. “Maybe your unattainable man isn’t so unattainable after all.”

Nate huffs, a disbelieving sound. “I’m not so sure about that. What about you, Carolyn?” He tucks his card back into the center of the deck, neatens the pile of cards and hands them to her.

Trish watches, waits. Carolyn can tell that she isn’t going to get out of this, so she quickly shuffles the deck and splits it neatly in half, placing one card on the table.

“The Devil,” Trish says slowly.

It’s a terrifying looking card. “He enslaves people,” Carolyn says quietly. “Exerts dark magical forces, pushes people into being who they aren’t. He keeps people in the dark. When this card shows up in a reading, it means someone important is lost, and that the querent should take risks in order to get them back.”

“The querent is you?” Trish asks.

Carolyn’s phone vibrates, and she looks at it, sees an unknown number and picks it up immediately. “Hello?”

“Carolyn.” A familiar voice, strong and steady. Calm.

“Sam.”

“I’m ready to get out now,” he says, the words coming faster with each breath. “I keep trying to get out, and I keep going back. But I’m ready to get out now. I need to you to help me.”

“How?” Because Carolyn knows he’s still in the facility, still not sane most of the time. “Sam, how?”

“Come talk to me. I’ll be here for you,” he promises.

“Sam, I’m—”

“You know how,” he cuts her off. “You know how to get here. Promise me, Carolyn. Promise me you’ll come. As soon as you can.”

She looks at the card on the table, the devil’s chains wrapped tight about the throats of his prisoners. “I promise,” she says quietly. “Give me a day, Sam.”

“I trust you,” he says, and the phone goes dead.

“Was that the devil?” Nate asks. He goes silent when Trish presses a finger to his lips, shakes her head.

Still, it’s not the wrong question. “Something like that,” Carolyn says. She gathers up the cards, carefully puts them away. Her hand shakes when she lifts her tea, sipping at the brew gone cold. She needs to pretend everything’s normal, just for a moment. Then she needs to figure out what to do.

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