Rachel Glaser - Paulina & Fran

“Is this part of your fantasy?” Paulina chided. “That he’ll come back and pity you and carry you into his house like an abandoned kitten and take off baby’s wet clothes and. .” Fran pressed her ears closed as Paulina continued.

When the crying waned, Fran told herself that she was ugly, she was useless, and the crying came back. The crying felt like her final friend. The only thing she could do. Like she was good at it. She felt a terrible untethering from the world. She didn’t expect Julian, was no longer waiting for him, but couldn’t motivate herself to rise. Fran felt the tiny hope that Paulina could help her. That however bad Fran felt, Paulina could reverse it if she wanted to. You’re so stupid , Fran told herself, that’s so stupid , and a new batch of tears came through, warming her cheeks, dripping from her nose.

Fran’s crying soothed Paulina. Julian was nowhere. He must be working on his film, Paulina thought again. She’d never seen his work before. She hated student films. Student films disgusted her. But she would sit through it. Whatever thing it was. She would find him in the Film Building. She would claw through the recently weaned anime kids. Maybe it had to do with her, even, the movie. Maybe it was clearly about her, and everyone else was too stupid to realize it. Maybe it was good.

She felt drawn to Fran and repelled by Fran. She felt superior to all women and started walking quickly away from Fran. Houses of nonlovers blurred together as she passed. Lives that wouldn’t touch hers. Lives she could touch, but didn’t feel like it. She felt her old power collecting around her. She would watch this film. She would take Julian back to her place and let Fran drown in tears. Crying Fran was like the girls from her junior high who wore fairy wings — theater rejects in the grass.

Yet Fran hung out in her head like Spirit of the Forest or whatever. What was Spirit of the Forest ? Where had she heard that? A beetle flew around her and landed in her hair. Beetles never know where they’re going, Paulina thought, annoyed, swatting at it. Beetles know not what they do.

As she approached campus, she passed huddled groups of her classmates and paid them no mind. What the fuck were they whispering about? Her? Art students are so dramatic, she thought, weaving around them. She wasn’t like them. She was a scholar. God, no, scholar sounded so stuffy and tweed and blah. She was one of the great thinkers of her time.

“Paulina!” Sadie was running toward her. Paulina kept walking. It was so like Sadie to cut short Paulina’s glory with her kid-sister insistence. Julian was probably alone in the editing room, and the editing rooms locked.

Sadie’s eyes were full of tears. “Wait, I have to talk to you,” Sadie said, her face soggy. “Eileen died.”

“Died?” Paulina asked.

“Yes. It’s so awful. The whole thing is mysterious. I lent her my car last night and she was found. .”

Paulina stopped and let her mind run. Eileen bought drugs from Fluff, a maniac who could not be trusted. A number of times Paulina had come close to trying heroin with Fluff at Mystic’s warehouse, but always some force kept her back. She pictured Fran in the jumper at Mystic’s and Julian taking it off her.

“At first she was in a coma, but by the time I heard about it—” Sadie started crying again. “If only I hadn’t lent her the car, or if I had gone with her, or, I don’t know. I invited her to hang out with me and Allison, but I could have been more. . I don’t know. .” She trailed off and Paulina watched her sink into the frivolous hoards of her mind.

“Oh, it’s not your fault. That much is clear,” Paulina said and gave Sadie a hug.

“I know, that’s what everyone says, but it’s not getting through to me,” Sadie said, trembling. Paulina sat on the Foundation Building steps with Sadie, and listened to her tearfully cycle through the same thoughts. The longer Paulina lingered with Sadie, the more likely it was that Julian had finished his work and was walking to his apartment, discovering the crying mess on his lawn.

An hour later, the same phrases kept coming out of Sadie’s mouth— too young, my fault, no God, senior year . Paulina could hear snippets of the other conversations around them, whispers of drug party and death wish . The next few weeks would be this same conversation over and over, she knew. She would sometimes have to manufacture the emotions. It would overshadow all the year-end parties.

Paulina squeezed Sadie’s hand. “I wish I had more time to talk now,” Paulina said. It was a relief to say this. Allison would come out from wherever, Paulina reasoned. She could leave now.

“Are you listening to me? Eileen has died. She will never return. She was one of us!” Sadie yelled.

“I wasn’t as close to her as you were,” Paulina said softly. “I wish it hadn’t happened.”

“She was nice!” said Sadie.

“Was she painting, or textiles or something?” Paulina asked looking at the Film Building in the distance.

“Textiles,” Sadie said. “She had a good spirit.”

“Well, good, because she’s all spirit now.”

“You’re horrible!” Sadie said.

“I’m sorry,” Paulina said.

Paulina wore a tight, dark dress to Eileen’s service. She was having one of the best hair days of her life. A ringlet fell into her eyes, and she gently brushed it aside, careful not to ruin her eye makeup. It was truly tragic, Paulina knew. Eileen had lost everything! But still, Paulina was jealous of the love and attention she was receiving. The service was in the small park where students liked to go at night, pretending they were in a real city, drinking and freaking out over the moon.

If Paulina had to die one day, as every woman had before her, she liked to think her funeral would outdo this one in elegance and expense. There would be swans, and celebrities, and a river of tears. The gods would hover. Horns would sound. Just a glimpse of this eventual funeral left Paulina feeling ill. No event, no matter how impressive, could diminish the loss of Paulina’s existence. Tears filled Paulina’s eyes and she dedicated them to Eileen. Poor Eileen. If anyone wrote her biography, it would be very short.

Paulina scanned the rows of crying girls and saw Fran staring back at her with hatred. Fran was wearing a low-cut dress. She was sitting with the creatures from the Film Department, but one could see that even they didn’t claim her as a friend.

The ceremony droned on and on. Sadie spoke. Allison spoke. Julian was nowhere to be found. Paulina checked her watch. Apollo sat down next to her. Paulina nodded in Fran’s direction.

“What?” Apollo said.

“Her outfit,” Paulina said. “Poor taste for a funeral.”

“The funeral is actually on Sunday. It’s family only. This is just the service.”

Marissa turned around to shush them. Paulina stifled a laugh and Apollo nudged her. She laughed into his shoulder and tried to recall what it was that she always recalled to keep from laughing uncontrollably in lecture. Instead she recalled what kept her from crying in public — her high school boyfriend smearing his lips with what he believed to be ChapStick, but was really lipstick. She covered her smile. People cried. Paulina felt Fran’s eyes on her and just let them burn. She wished it were Fran’s funeral. Julian would be there, and Paulina would sit next to him, their legs touching. She wondered what she would say at the podium with Fran listening behind the clouds.

Paulina grew restless. Everyone kept giving sad little toasts. People walked up to the microphone with no planned remarks, then talked about the cereals Eileen ate and the inside jokes she’d shared with her roommates. One hinged on the phrase “rumstick,” which meant nothing to Paulina, but just hearing the word made two of the crying girls giggle helplessly.