whole thing.” Andi picked up her half-smoked cigarette from the ground and handed it to Lee, which she graciously accepted.
The five of us watched the sky turn to a dark shade of purple as the sun faded behind the trees. There used to be a lot more banter, but over the last few months there wasn’t much to talk about. The Repatterning was messing up everything. No more internet. No more cigarettes. No more movies. But the worst part was yet to come: no more boys. The Executive Order of Conscription would force all males seventeen and up to be shipped off on that following Monday morning. The world had changed, and we now lived in an alternative universe where everything sucked and fun was illegal. We used to talk about where we wanted to go to college, but now college was out of the question. Nobody could afford it. We were the disintegrating middle class.
“What if there were still scholarships; where would you apply?” Kristina asked the group.
Whenever things got too quiet, someone would spark up the “what if” game.
“Pepperdine!” Andi shouted like a game show contestant. She used to love those shows before all the networks shut down.
“NYU. No doubt.” Lynn picked up a cigarette butt from the grass and tried to relight the stub––addiction breeds desperation. I remembered seeing a homeless man in D.C. doing the same thing once. What would she do when cigarettes were gone for good?
“I don’t think I wanna go to college,” Lee said, playing with her sandal strap.
“That’s not the point. None of us can go anyway. Just name a place.” Kristina didn’t like when someone stepped outside the lines. There were rules to the “what if” game––everyone played no matter what. It was a nice distraction from our crappy circumstances.
“Fine. University of Maryland.”
“That’s it? Out of all of the places you can go, you pick a school that’s thirteen miles away?” Lynn laughed.
“Schiller University in Paris.” I jumped in. “I bet they still have real cigarettes over there.”
“If you’re going to Paris, I’m going somewhere in Germany. You know, to honor my roots.” Kristina smiled.
“Your roots?” Lynn smirked, knowing it was a touchy subject.
“Okay, my parents’ roots. I can’t help if I’m adopted.”
“Hey, nobody said anything about you being adopted. Pretend like you’re going to any damn university you want. This is all bullshit anyway.” Lynn flicked her cigarette butt down the hill. Tiny flecks of burning embers scattered and melted into the grass.
“Let’s play nice, please. We’re all we have left in this fercucked world.” I reminded the girls.
“I’m sorry,” Lynn mumbled.
“Can we change the subject?” Andi asked.
Lee’s face lit up. “How about . . . what if you could kiss any guy in our neighborhood?” Of course she asked that question. It was easy being boy crazy when you were drop dead gorgeous.
“I don’t like that question.” I nervously rubbed the top of my head, where my hair used to be.
“That’s because you’ve ruined your chances of getting a guy,” Andi replied, repeating something our mother had screamed after I got home from the barbershop.
In my defense, I blurted out, “Matt Wesson. Okay. Happy?” I scanned the ground for my cigarette butt, hoping I could suck one more drag out of the thing.
The girls laughed and laughed.
“You’re still crushing on him?” Lynn squinted.
“It’s been, like, two years.” Lee reminded everyone.
My cheeks warmed. “Yeah, well, sometimes things take a while to get over.”
“Don’t give her a hard time. We can’t help how we feel.” Kristina patted my shoulder. “But seriously, get over that dude. He’s not worth it.”
“Okay, enough of this stupid game. I don’t wanna kiss anyone.” I lied. I hadn’t stopped thinking about Matt since the summer before last. It was the day he got his driver’s license and showed up
Ahmet Zappa, Shana Muldoon Zappa & Ahmet Zappa