Track 9: Limiting All The Possibilities

1.

At this specific moment there is really only one question that should be asked: What was the silly thing that Madaline did a few hours before she went out of her way to get coffee from Zippy Brew (for the first time) but a few minutes right after she had stroked herself to thoughts of Amber… (for the first time). The answer to this question may provide valuable information from which one might infer a possible answer to Ella’s question of how the fuck Simon could be fine with leaving a Madaline crazed Amber alone multiple days a week with the object of her happy obsession:

The morning was routine for Simon's days off, practically punched out from a stencil, which is to say it was just as Madaline had feared during her post wank, post unfulfilling nap reverie.

Simon, of course, was at the kitchen table, burrowed like a tick into the newspaper and drinking coffee.

Amber was at the stove making breakfast; locked into her task. Per usual for Monday and Tuesday mornings, her nerves were at a manageable level, just resting in the background of her awareness, enough of a presence to make sure she reminded herself several times of the importance of performing each action correctly.

The kitchen was bright and clean, even the windows were clear of snow and frost, as were the numerous windows in the living room which lay in the path between the stairway and the coffee pot.

The whole scene with Amber and Simon in the kitchen on a winter morning was just so atomic hetero normative.

Just so Edward Hopper, a portrayal of trad USAmerican values plus an added layer of isolation.

Just so pre 2000s sitcom… but then into the sitcom strolled the wacky blatantly queer coded character (minus the word coded):

Madaline stalked through the entry and towards the coffee pot, neither rain nor sleet nor Simon would stop her from getting a share of what was there, her eyes were still half closed, her earphones were still playing Cowgirl by Underworld.

“Good morning Madaline,” said Amber, turning and waving with the spatula, before spasming in surprise. The spatula went into the air, did a couple flips and she had to scramble to catch it on its way down.

Madaline didn’t hear her below the music and totally missed both her wave and her impressive color guard routine with the kitchenware, just going right into cutting her mug of sugar with milk and coffee.

Simon caught sight of her, put down his paper and began to say her name, getting louder with each successive call that bounced off.

He went unnoticed.

Rather than simply spiking as it would normally, Amber's background anxiety began to vacillate wildly. On one hand, Amber was enjoying the gains that Madaline's presence usually provided, a baseline reduction of the edginess that ate away at her, an almost low level narcotic effect. Today that effect had even received an added bonus, because the situation she was witnessing was so unexpected and absurdly hilarious.

On the other hand, Simon was not amused and her anxiety was pulsing every time he snapped Madaline’s name, his brow darkening as he grew more upset.

The combined effect of these factors made for a feeling like someone was continuously cranking the key to the ignition of an adrenaline engine inside of her; the engine was turning over, trying to start, but unable to boom to life and become a sustained process. That said she was dismally certain it was going to happen if Madaline didn't notice the situation soon.

The hilarity added another dangerous factor, unable to properly panic, Amber could feel giggles bubbling up in her throat, a nervous but authentic smile trying to spread eagle on her face. All over Madaline's ignorance of what she had done.

But if she laughed while Simon was getting upset it might make things even worse, eliminating any possibility of mitigating some blow out fight between the two of them, that would be on her.

She knew the smart thing to do would be to take three steps and grab Madaline's arm, get her attention before Simon got to the point of coming over to get her, but Amber found she couldn't, the delirious cycling anxiety had her stuck to the spot, and all her faculties she would usually use to overcome such a state of affairs and continue to function were now currently occupied trying to prevent herself from cracking up.

Thankfully, Madaline turned towards Amber, trying not to spill her overfilled coffee cup. “Morning Amber… you doing alright?”

Still holding the spatula, Amber bobbed her head, at least acknowledging that she had heard her.

Madaline yawned, noticing Amber was keeping a hand over her mouth, at last she reached up and pulled down her headphones.

“MADALINE!” It was the seventh time Simon had said her name, this one broke into a yell.

Madaline swung her head like a drunk and irritated security camera, her attention going from pretty thing to… Simon. “What, fuck, what? Satan's sake, why are you yelling, you don't need to yell.”

Amber waited, hands clutched to her face, she rubbed her thumb over the handle of the spatula, abysmally certain things were about to go the worst way they could. Why couldn't Simon just see how amusing this was. It was a little funny, wasn't it? Amber thought so.

But things didn't spiral out into a step-sibling war, Simon hadn't had to get up, he didn't respond right away, instead he looked at Madaline as though she were stupid and to be fair he might have had a small amount of ground to look at her that way in this instance.

"Madaline," he said, slowly, through gritted teeth.

"Simon?"

"You are naked."

Cue the laugh track.

Madaline when walking has a tendency to look dead forward, apparently one of the high costs of moving with unfettered and natural confidence was potentially stumbling into a situation like this. Though to be fair Madaline was in fact not naked, Amber had seen her in a lesser state of dress, Madaline was in her underwear, as was her preference through much of her day before she got in the shower when she was living anywhere with the decency to let her wander around in such a state.

Amber looked back and forth from boyfriend to best friend, taking an extra half a second to look at Madaline's exposed abdomen at each and every swing.

Madaline glanced down at herself, sleepily. "Oh wow, right, I thought I felt both a little too chilly and a little too comfortable... but come on, I mean, you're exaggerating, this isn't naked."

Simon stared, more dumbfounded than enraged by her response, "Fine, you're in my kitchen, in your underwear, how did you not notice? Madaline, the neighbors."

"What about em?"

“You’re nearly naked, in the kitchen, in front of the windows where the neighbors can see. You passed through the living room with even more windows, where the neighbors can see. ”

Bacon popped in the pan, startling Amber.

A finger cracked on a hand.

Amber took a couple big breaths through her fingers trying to get in control of herself, she nearly busted into laughter, but bit down on her lip, the pain lashing her back into control.

Madaline took a big drink of milky sugary coffee, the glucose and caffeine jump starting her brain. She sucked her teeth, considering how best to handle this situation like the adult she hypothetically was.

“Madaline, the neighbors,” Simon enunciated slowly, emphasizing the point for her once again as though she didn’t understand his concern.

“Ughhh. Right, ” Madaline said with a beleaguered sigh that was only half pretend, “I am sorry, Simon, I truly truly am.”

“Madaline, just go-”

“I am soooooo sorry that you are ashamed of me and don’t want your neighbors to enjoy this internationally beloved example of transgender pride,” she swung her cup, to indicate the payout from all of her stomach crunches. It would have been smooth if it wasn’t for her accidentally slopping coffee out of her cup onto the floor. “Aw fuck me,” she groaned.

Amber's shoulders had begun to jerk up and down her body making the motion of laughter, without actually laughing.

“Um… Here..” a little snort, “I got that.” Amber leapt down with a roll of paper towels to clean up Madaline’s mess.

"Thanks Amber," Madaline mumbled, looking down at Amber crouching at her feet.

Seriously this is the second time I've been under dressed and she's gotten down and- fuck nope shut up- at least this time she isn't looking up at me, Madaline thought blearily, as though two times made for a trend, when in fact three were required for that classification.

“Madaline,” Simon said very carefully, “are you high?”

“Wha?” Madaline said, jerking her head away from looking at the back of Amber's neck, which she had been fantasizing about biting less than hour ago.

“Are you high?”

Madaline leaned against the counter and sipped more coffee, propping one foot back against the cabinet door, almost considering, “I mean not yet champ” she drawled, “I seriously did just wake up, can you give me a few.”

“Madaline-” Simon said, his hands crunching an edge of the paper.

“I got this whole work thing to deal with today, so it's a when in need and all kind of policy. Restraint, moderation, discipline, those are my watchwords,” she deadpanned.

Amber rose, a tiny smile on her face, but some of the pressing need to laugh had slipped out with the shaking of her shoulders. She tossed the soiled towel in the trash before washing her hands and returning to flip the bacon.

“Madaline-”

Another sip, then at the snap of a knuckle Madaline’s voice plummeted deep into the masculine register with such speed and force it stunned both Amber and Simon. Her drawl began to lean and slide, her vowels shifting, her As becoming airy, producing a voice that was slow, leisurely and cheerfully intoxicated; a passable imitation of archetypal stoner Tommy Chong, “Why man, you wanna burn one down after breakfast? Like I said, man I got that work… thing, but ... you know... I think I can get it moved, right. We can listen to some Slightly Stoopid, man, maybe watch Dazed and Confused.”

Amber cracked an egg, trying to hold herself together , as the laughter rose back up and finally burst out in a single barking breath.

She cringed when she swore she could feel Simon turn his eyes on her.

Amber took a deep lung full of air and flipped an egg, suddenly finding no trouble in containing her sense of humor.

Madaline cracked another finger.

Simon exhaled very slowly and turned back to his step sister. “Madaline.”

“What? Okay, seriously, I'm sorry, I really didn’t mean to walk down like this."

“Madaline, go put on clothes, now.”

Madaline sighed and headed back towards the living room, taking her cup with her, “I apologized didn’t I, it really was an accident, I’ll just walk back by those windows.”

“Um, Madaline, do you want breakfast?” Amber mumbled.

The preordained no she had come downstairs with hung on Madaline's lips, she paused and thought for a moment, then she stepped back into the kitchen and set her cup decisively on the table, “Yeah, that would be great, thanks.”

Madaline went out, and the happy couple heard her climb the stairs.

“There you go honey, that'll get you started, bacon will be ready in a minute.”

He glanced at his plate and grumbled his thanks.

Amber returned to the stove, when Madaline had left the room she'd taken much of the humor in the situation with her. Amber's internal anxiety meter began clicking a little more rapidly, with it came the irresistible urge to try smoothing things over.

“I’m, um, I’m sorry- for- you know," she said just loud enough to be heard over the whisper of the burner.

"Mmmmhmmm," Simon said.

Amber took two eggs in the palm of her hand, scratching at the shell of one, before cracking them into the pan. “It was just funny, absurd... she’s- she's funny.”

Behind her Simon sighed, his fork and knife went down with a clatter on the plate, making Amber flinch. She accidentally broke one of Madaline's eggs, but remembered that she preferred them scrambled anyway, scrambled and drenched in ketchup.

Well, happy accident, she decided, turning down the heat and spilling the other yolk, casting the surface of the pan in caution sign yellow.

She remained as still as she could while continuing her work, every muscle throughout her body tense, waiting for what he would say. I had to open my stupid mouth, I could have just sat safely in the frying pan instead I hopped right into the fire, didn't I?

"Amber, you don't have to explain it to me, it’s like I said when she got here. I get it, she’s funny, she’s really funny, right up until she’s ruining things and ripping shit apart, rooms, people... anything that's not hers, anything important… It’s not your fault.”

Amber certainly felt like it was.

“She’s trying, you both are, I thought you two had been doing... um... rather well.”

Simon didn’t seem to hear her, “Hell, that’s the worst idea of all, that she doesn’t actually really intend to fuck things up, doesn't plan it out, doesn’t actually mean to be- just gets to be that time and she just does it."

For the first time in weeks the thought entered Amber's head, What did she do to him? She disregarded the question, she'd think about it later if she had time. Best to handle the situation in front of her and leave the curiosity about the past as a curiosity, after all that's where she wished they would leave it. It wasn't like Simon was going to tell her.

“This doesn’t seem... so bad, Simon… it’s just a silly mistake, she probably won’t do it again,” Amber said, referring to Madaline's unintentional fashion choice. She plated Madaline's eggs, set the spatula aside, grabbed the fresh popped toast, buttered it, cut it and laid everything out for Madaline.

She rubbed her arm for a few seconds before carefully extracting the bacon from the pan, placing it on a community plate and taking everything to the table.

He looked at her.

Amber continued to stand there, giving him a nice smile and deciding on a different appeasement tactic, “I think… I see what you’re, um, saying, stormfronts have no.... malice, you know?” she offered.

Simon still didn’t hear, either Amber was too quiet or he was too lost in thought.

“Either way,” Simon said, “That’s how she always gets away with it, she’s funny and fun and charming.”

“And you,” he took Amber’s arm, just holding it lightly, her narrow wrist disappearing inside his hand, “You’ve been taken in by it... a little.”

“I- um… I…”

“It’s understandable,” he said.

Amber took a deep breath, her nerves squirmed around inside her, her heartbeat drummed against his thumb.

“She’s staying here and maybe like you said, she is trying her best, seems like it sometimes, but either way, she’s my sister, she’s here, I can’t just tell you that you should stay away from her for your own good. There's a lot she could do wrong while rooming with us, some big, a lot small, but the last thing I want is for her to hurt you, so you need to- you need to keep some perspective, Amber, whether she's trying to be better or getting better or not, remember the truth."

"The... the truth?"

"Yes, the truth is you don't actually know her."

Amber nodded and leaned in to kiss him on the head, “Okay, thank you for looking out for me and, I’ll, you know, I'll keep that in mind, I promise.”

Among all the things she might feel anxious about, the idea that Madaline could hurt her was on a list of outcomes Amber's overactive amygdala saw very little point in threat modeling. She just couldn't imagine any way in which Madaline would maliciously do her harm and as for the less malicious ways, well, she didn't need a reminder, those popped up in her mind from time to time on their own.

But in deference to him she placed the idea that she doesn't really know Madaline in the back of her mental folder of Madaline facts, right next to another idea, a far more terrible idea about Madaline, it actually happened to be one of the non malicious ways Madaline could hurt her... and more than likely would. She tried to keep away from that idea, though forgetting it or fading it wasn't really an option.

She took slow breaths. The conversation had produced a thick slimy coat of angst around her brain, after a minute it slowly began to drip and slide off of her thoughts, trickling down through her in little streams, collecting in a cavity in her chest next to her heart where it congealed into a mass, solid and heavy. It just sat there inside her, like she'd tried swallowing a steel ball and it got lodged half way down.

While this Simon's day off morning (post Madaline move in) isn't as easy as some of the other ones, over all this still isn't too bad, she's not panicking, her mind isn't spinning out of control, the bad feelings are still at a level she's perfectly used to working around. Totally manageable.

What did not occur to Amber and would not occur to her anytime soon was to ask just what Simon meant by the word, hurt.

Madaline came back around the corner from the stairs, heading for the kitchen.

Simon began to half heartedly thank her for putting in the effort of putting on a shirt and pants, until he got a look at the statement on the shirt, “Really Maddy, come- fuck, how is that appropriate for... I'm eating. I don’t want to think about you- Did you even bother to check what shirt you were putting on?”

Amber turned and froze, taking in Madaline's shirt, she blinked at it, read it a second time to be sure, all of her internal processes quietly going down in confirmation that, yes, indeed she had read it right the first time.

“For fuck sake,” Madaline exclaimed, throwing up her hands, looking longingly at her coffee and breakfast. She cracked a knuckle and glanced at the legend on her shirt, before sighing and looking back up, just slightly abashed, but trying to play it off, “Oh come on, be an adult... it’s a- it’s a- novelty shirt, a joke, somebody got it for me as a gift."

Full disclosure: The shirt had not been a gift, Madeline had totally bought it for herself at an event she'd gone to. When she saw it for the first time, the words, "Oh fuck me, yes, I need it so bad," had immediately erupted out of her mouth. She'd paid top dollar for it without complaint, fully intending to wear it for the purpose of advertising its particular message with a sincerity far greater than that included in any apology she’d offered Simon since they were 17 years old.

Splattered across the black fabric in big bold white letters was the words: BULLYING YOU MAKES ME CUM!

"My breakfast is getting cold," she tried. This last protest was so weak and frustrated that it was almost petulant whining

Simon gave her a look. "Still don't want to think about the picture it... paints... at breakfast... or at all actually."

Madaline scowled, before groaning like a teenager and stomping out of sight.

Simon glanced at Amber, who looked like a deer dead dazed by the front end brights of a truck. He put his hand back on her, shocking her internal processes into resumption.

Madaline was gone for thirty seconds before returning. The message was no longer visible, she'd turned the shirt inside out and backwards. She sat down, “Am I presentable? May I eat?”

Simon shrugged and waved his hand magnanimously.

Amber stepped back to the stove and began her own breakfast, breaking out a new pan, sending the one she’d cooked Simon's and Madaline’s in to the sink.

Madaline watched her cook a single egg from over Simon's shoulder, then watched as she returned with her plate and sat demurely at Simon's side.

The three of them ate in silence, as tension continued to crackle over the table like a storm cloud.

Amber ran her finger up and down over the surface of the table with one hand, while the other moved bits of egg around her plate.

Madaline stared at her for a moment, clasped her fingers together in an almost praying gesture, then looked over to Simon. “So, I was serious about what I said.” She scattered shreds of bacon onto the remainder of her eggs. “I’ll get this thing moved, we can have some sibling bonding time. Smoke up, I'd literally rather hang out with you than talk to the suits.”

Simon looked up with a raised eyebrow. “Do I need to have you piss in a cup, Maddy?”

Madaline ran her tongue over her teeth, “Don’t see why you’d waste the money, I’ll tell you what I told my boss, I’ll just give you a list of drugs I’ve been on in the last six months. Come on, I can buy pot legally in every corner of this state and you want to give me a drug test, you know I’m not going to pass, you knew that when you let me stay. Don’t worry Simon, the feds aren’t going to Rico your rented house over my two joints, proceeded by two joints, plus two. ” Madaline scooped eggs into her mouth.

Full Disclosure: Madaline’s luggage contains a hell of a lot more than six joints.

Simon stared at her trying to parse out the meaning of what she had just said, before he shook his head at her as though she were the universe's biggest disappointment. “Are you… is that supposed to be the Bob Marley song?”

Madaline had to stop herself from correcting him with her mouth full, luckily years of conditioning saved her. “It was actually written by the Toyes, Bob was in the ground two years before Smoke Two Joints came out, I prefer the cover by Sublime off of 40oz to Freedom. I’m surprised you know it.”

“Are you insane… don’t answer that… Maddy, I had a room next to you for two years in high school , do you know how much of your music I had to hear.” He folded himself back behind his paper.

Got to hear, the back of Amber's brain whispered wistfully with maybe just a speck of bitterness.

“Got to hear,” Madaline pointed with her fork, just slightly defensive. “I think you mean, got to hear. My taste is impeccable. 1940s to current, I'm a certified horizon broadener. ”

She glanced at Amber nibbling a micron of egg.

“I agree, you are absolutely certified.” Simon turned to the sports page.

“Best song off the album is their cover of Scarlet Begonias, original by the Grateful Dead. Yeah, I'm going to listen to that after breakfast.”

The ball of angst thrummed in Amber's chest, her heart making it vibrate; hearing Madaline talk about music made her feel a bit better though, made the ball a little less noticeable. Still, it would remain with her through the morning and wouldn't properly start to dissolve until after she got on the bus for work.

Well, this is the worst they've been with each other... So... so… I mean this... this is still progress, Amber reassured herself.

Madaline finished her meal, topped off her coffee, drank a large glass of water and filled it back up to take with her, watching as Amber ditched her quarter eaten egg and began cleaning up.

“Thanks so much for breakfast, Amber, you have a good day at work, I’m going to go get blazed and get a workout in before I have to go argue with assholes… thanks for the warm up Simon.” She winked at him, the tone of the comment wasn’t terribly caustic, it might even have been meant as good natured teasing.

“I have a retort about you getting bent and how it should be a familiar experience for you, but you’ll call it slut shaming, so I’m just not going to engage any further, have a good day at work Maddy.” He popped back out from behind his paper, "And if you're actually intending to get stoned before work, go take a walk or something, don't do it in the house."

“Please, didn’t you see the shirt?” Madaline said on her way out, “Let’s be honest I'm not the one getting bent.”

"I mean it Maddy, do not stink up my house."

"Right, I won't dad, promise," Madaline called halfway up the stairs.

Amber wanted to giggle again, but the urge died away as Madaline’s presence faded from the air.

Simon turned a page, “Always has to get the last word in doesn’t she.”

"Um, yeah, I guess she does." Amber produced a laugh, his comment wasn't really funny, but it also wasn't necessarily untrue either.

Amber broke down the stove top, listening closely for several minutes, but no music started upstairs.

She took a deep breath, taking the stove top components to the sink.

For a bit as she worked through the dishes she thought again of the idea that she didn't really know Madaline, it circled around the inside of her head like a vulture, until-

I don't know much music either, but... I'm learning about music now... I don't really know Madaline... but if possible... I'd really really like to.

She glanced at her boyfriend at the table as she went to get his dishes.

Simon was home, so Madaline was using her headphones, instead of her speaker, hence no music.

Everything was quiet, everything was normal.

She listened to the sound of her stomach growling in discontent.

Don't be such a baby, I'll have something... later.

2.

The day following Madaline’s undressed excursion into the kitchen, was the day Amber finished the Hunchback of Notre Dame.

She read past the final line while sitting in the living room, waiting to flip the laundry, the washing machine thunking and sloshing in the alcove around the corner from the kitchen. She realized it had taken her far longer to read than it usually would have, spending time with Madaline had slowed her down.

Amber quickly decided that there couldn’t be a better reason in the world for a reduction in the number of books she consumed in a given year.

Though, it was inconvenient that she'd finished it today, she hadn’t been paying attention to the rate at which she’d been reading. If she’d finished it a couple of days earlier, she could have gone to the library, but now she would have to wait until next Tuesday to get another book.

Like so many things in Amber’s day to day life, it ran like a train schedule, she only went to the library when she was sure taking Simon’s car wouldn’t inconvenience him, which meant the day she went to get groceries.

This happened every now and then, a few times a year she’d get careless or over excited and read too fast, forgetting to pace herself to a timetable that wouldn’t leave her lacking a book to consume. Adding to the issue, Amber also only ever checked out one book at a time, it was a means of ensuring that even if she sometimes, very rarely, ended up going without, she always had something to look forward to.

Except now, she was almost always looking forward to every evening, at least.

The sense of well-being, of consistently looking forward to the comfort and excitement of Madaline’s companionship was such a strange change, but hadn’t that been exactly what she’d been craving in the week between Simon and Madaline’s agreement and her arrival, change?

What else could change? Her phone sat heavy in her hoodie pocket and for a moment she was actually tempted. She couldn’t afford to buy books on reading apps legally, but she knew that there were free copies of books out there to download. She could go looking for something. The phone in her pocket slowly began to accumulate weight, until it felt like a block of lead.

Her fathers voice instructed her from the back of her head, making her scratch at the couch arm: Boy! Wandering around willy nilly on the internet is like asking to catch something... Aids or Syphilis.

That was what he had compared it to back when she’d only had the most distant concept of what Aids was. She’d had to look Syphilis up in the dictionary and even after that she still only really understood that Aids would kill you and so would Syphilis, but Syphilis was worse, or she’d thought so at the time, because it would eat your brain and drive you mad first.

She placed the book on the coffee table and looked upward, she could hear the wonderful guitars and drums coming out of Madaline’s speaker as she worked.

Madaline will know how to do it safely. Madaline could help.

This was true, but just the idea had her ears turning red. Amber had talked to Madaline a bit about this, but she didn’t think Madaline quite understood just how deep of an issue it was. How could she when she flew through computer systems untethered by anything like gravity, totally unconcerned, treating the internet like her own private solar system to explore.

No, it wasn’t happening, she was not walking up to her uber-woman, totally fearless, computer hacker best friend, who probably had at least a sealed criminal record for a really cool reason and saying to her: Please Bestie can you show me where I can get free books online safely, cause see bestie the internet scares me.

It made her so ashamed, because she knew, she knew it was ridiculous, she knew her parents, her dad, had just been a little… overprotective, when she was growing up. So her access to the internet had been restricted and heavily monitored, she was told to only ever use websites that the school taught her and to be careful with those, to not wander too far, to ask him if it was okay, because schools could teach the wrong thing, and there were terrible things that could happen if you were careless on the internet.

Amber was so grateful that he’d approved the image search engine her art teacher had shown them in the 4th grade. Something, in retrospect, he would not have done had he taken any longer than he had to dig into just what could be found there, the irony was that his approval from years ago dispelled the paranoia that going most places online brought about, but she'd really only started using the site for comfort after they'd... disowned her, that's all that happened, and she still never took it off safe mode.

There were a handful of other sites he had approved for her and thus did not generate the paranoia that the rest of the internet did, Maps Online, Yellowpages, out of them the Image Search Engine was the most fun.

Overall, growing up, Amber had decided it was better to rely on books for what she needed, which like all other media, had also been highly regulated in the Orlet household. Say what you will of Greg Orlet, but he had taken a great, even obsessive interest in his daughter's education.

Books were enjoyable and didn't hold as many opportunities for her to make poor decisions.

Still, when she went to college she’d had to realize that it was a little over the top, that if having your identity stolen or getting swatted or information poisoning or a million other things were the equivalent to Syphilis, there were plenty of people who had sex everyday and didn't get sick, Amber was one of them.

She'd had to come to that conclusion, there were just some things that couldn’t be done without the internet, but, the lesson remained burrowed deep and she’d never fully shaken it off, so she kept her online usage to a bare minimum, why wouldn't she, just trying to look something up, trying to answer a question, made her heart rate increase, it held the potential of sending her back into… bad memories.

“Information poisoning,” Amber whispered to herself.

From second grade until she left for college her bag had been checked every single day; any book she brought home to read had to be approved. Even now, when she returned from the library she would shudder as the words, Boy! Bag check, seemed to echo through time at her as she entered into what was ostensibly her own house.

That was how Amber had come to her love of older literature; at some point she'd figured out that pre 1940 works (she'd often stuck to pre 1930 to be safe) and were regarded as classics, would often be approved after a single glance, her father would rarely waste his time "talking" about it with her or spend time researching the books contents, a process that would often take weeks and be incredibly nerve wracking, especially if in the end he decided it was in fact not appropriate.

She'd gone through the process with a few newer works, even getting to read a handful, but overall she'd avoided the stress by sticking to more antiquated materials.

None of which was to say that her love for older books was simply down to this oddity of her upbringing, her love for them, particularly the Gothics, was honestly felt. A positive part of her life, she'd just arrived to them in a… kind of unusual way.

Even now she still stuck primarily to older works as the process of choosing something newer to read for her enjoyment could cause discomfort, which was frankly nothing compared to her relationship with the internet. She could go and look things up in the library, sometimes without it affecting her emotional equilibrium, an encyclopedia caused little issue, but she mostly avoided the internet, unless she had no other options, as had been the case when looking up the resources she'd used in her transition or when hunting for jobs.

Madaline's college roommate might have made the argument that the severe paranoia that Amber experienced when she moved about unexplored areas of the internet, but did not experience when she used the handful of approved sites, meant that the paranoia was perhaps actually due to a kind of Pavlovian conditioning. Suggesting that Amber found the parts of the internet unapproved in her adolescence threatening not because she actually believed on any level that they were any more dangerous than say going for a walk outside, but because from a young age she associated exploring the unapproved parts of the internet with terror generated by an external source and even at this point it was easier for her mind to handle the idea that it was the internet that was scary and not the thing that had actually been a near constant threat to her physical and psychological wellbeing when she was growing up.

There were places in her life where she had gotten around or overcome such associations to a degree, but the internet was as of yet not one of them.

In any case, no, she decided, getting a book online just wasn’t an option.

However, she reminded herself, pushing the bad feelings down and out of sight, it was thanks to her dad that she had her stop gap option for when she finished a book early. It was thanks to him, kind of, that she owned the best book ever, her prized possession.

Amber set Hunchback aside and headed upstairs.

In Simon's room, with Madaline's music floating through the air, she pulled the book out from a box of her meager possessions that sat under the side of Simon's bed that she slept on.

Just holding it made her palms tingle with an excitement that first radiated up into her palms and then through her whole body, a heady mixture of both shame and pride she would never admit to, sickly and warm, capped off by a hardcore possessiveness; it was hers, she owned it, she'd earned it.

Both the fact that it made her feel that way and why it made her feel that way was on the list of things she did not allow herself to think about, not during daylight hours anyway. Just occasionally she would remember how she'd gotten it, always on the edge of sleep when her defenses were down, but thinking wasn't necessary to enjoy its magic, a magic totally separate from the words it contained, no, all she had to do was hold the reality of it in her hands and feel.

She only took it out at moments like these, when she needed something to read, another system of restricting herself, superstitiously afraid the effect might lose its potency if she wallowed in it too frequently.

The book jacket featured a man in a top hat walking through a snowy cityscape, she trailed her fingers over it. Holding her book for the first time in months Amber smiled down at it, it was a jack o lantern smile, a grin like a crescent moon turned on its side. A little noise whispered through her teeth, like speaking a laugh, “Heh.”

After a moment her smile fell and she felt a little silly as she always did after this moment of first contact following months of not holding it. No one should be this excited over a book, especially not one they'd read over and over, but... Mine.

Making its own first appearance in several weeks, the familiar, unfamiliar voice slithered up through the cracks when she wasn’t paying attention, Yes. Yours, It said, in a sweet and ever so slightly raspy coo. Today it sounded just so congenial and understanding, like it was slowly wrapping her in a hug. It remained in that tone as it totally broke the uplifting effect by keeping on, All because you're smarter th-”

She shook her head hard to shut it up. It didn’t matter how she’d gotten it, she couldn't think of that. It wasn't like it was a big deal anyway.

She waited, wherever the voice went when it had nothing to say, it had returned.

For a moment she puzzled over the voice, it wasn’t her dad or Simon or Madaline or... It seemed like the voice was gunning for the position of prolocutor of intrusive internal dialogue. It was so familiar, but she couldn't remember it ever… something tickled at her brain. A memory, her alone in another bedroom.

No, it didn’t matter, brains were so weird, she put the box back and took the book with her out of Simon’s bedroom.

Madaline's music continued to wind its way through the house, she could have told Amber the song playing as she retrieved her book was Career of Evil by Blue Oyster Cult.

She could still hear the music flowing down the stairs and through the ceiling as she settled back on the couch and cracked open the book, slipping the bookmark out, an old faded receipt from her 7th grade school library. The receipt itself was part of this strange momento. She placed it carefully, almost affectionately, between the cover and title page.

Amber began to read, picking up right where she left off the last time she’d finished a work out of cycle.

She read for 30 minutes, falling through the words, not hearing the music die, nor Madaline coming down the stairs.

Amber read the line: “Somewhere in him, a shadow turned mournfully over. You had to run with a night like this so the sadness could not hurt.”

She read the line over and over, spinning it about in her mind, she loved that line, it was one of her favorites.

“Little late in the game for that one isn’t it, princess?” Madaline asked.

Amber jolted, the book snapping shut, her consciousness ripped from a nighttime street outside of a library to the daytime of Simon's living room.

“Hey Madaline, what- what do you mean?”

Madaline twitched a green fingernail at the title emblazoned on the jacket, A Christmas Carol.

“Oh, yeah, I guess it's a little late… but it's my favorite and it's what I jump to when I finish a book, but can’t go to the library yet.”

“Hmmm, never read it. Though,” she glanced at Hunchback on the table, “You read a lot of stuff I’ve never read.”

“Humanities student,” Amber shrugged.

“Right,” Madaline leaned against the wall by the couch. “I like the Muppet movie version if that’s worth anything. ”

“So do I. I try to watch that one every year… on time, you know.”

They looked at each other, silently for a moment, nothing really passing between them as it had been lately, just looking. Amber waiting, Madaline quietly hunting.

“I have to run downtown and pick up something for work… she glanced around, finally her eyes snapped back to the copy of Hugo's Hunchback on the table. “You said… you have to wait to go to the library?”

“Uh-huh. I always go on Monday or Tuesday, depending on my schedule.”

Madaline nodded, being casual, “Right, why don’t you ride with me, I’ll run you by the library on my way back, then you won’t have to wait.”

The first response that bubbled up was to tell Madaline that it was okay, that she didn’t want to be any trouble, but the desire to hang out more with Madaline shot the first response dead.

Still she can't help but check to be sure, "Would it be-"

"No, it's no trouble, I insist."

“Okay,” Amber nodded, “Thanks.”

“My pleasure, princess.”

Amber rose, and picked up Hunchback and stacked it atop her copy of A Christmas Carol, then though totally unnecessary, but also totally enjoyed, a warm hand went to Amber’s back, walking her to the door where her coat and shoes waited.

Twenty minutes later Madaline was signing for a stack of thin, identical boxes at a large computer store.

“Alright, sorry, can I get you to carry a couple of these?”

“Yeah, um, sure.”

Madaline set two boxes in Amber’s arms.

Amber wasn’t that strong but they weren’t terribly heavy either.

Madaline grabbed the other four and they headed back out to the car.

Amber moved carefully around a patch of ice, the roads were clean but a recent bout of melting and refreezing had gathered a thick shiny sheet right in their path.

“Watch your step with that ice, if it comes down to it, if you slip, chuck them so you can brace yourself. Work can order more, it's not worth you getting hurt.”

“Um, I’m good, thank you, what are in these anyway?”

“Ah, all together it's about 12 Gs in laptops, I have to provision them, get them set up for the new team members, plus a ton of security, passwords inside passwords inside passwords, then I ship them back out to folks around the world. Compared to the actual size of the company the office is small, an awful lot of our people work from home. Except they don’t have to go in the way I do, but I also don’t have to sit on the phone every day for mandatory team meetings.”

“Is… 12 Gs a technical term or do you mean money?” said Amber feeling slightly ill.

“12 Gs in laptops,” Madaline emphasized with a chuckle.

Amber clutched the boxes tighter, until they were secured in the trunk of Madaline’s car.

“Did you just say I'm worth more than twelve thousand dollars?” Amber asked, climbing into the passenger seat and clicking her seat belt into place.

“I mean not directly, but you totally are,” Madaline said with a crooked grin.

Eleven minutes later they were blasting down the highway, flying in and out of lanes, as Bob Dylan frantically croaked out Subterranean Homesick Blues through the car’s high end speaker system. Amber watched, captivated, by Madaline’s deft well defined hand thoughtlessly working the gear shift.

Then they were off the highway, moving slower, then a few stops and turns and then a prolonged stop.

“This is it, right?” Madaline asked, shifting into park.

Amber looked up, surprised to see they were already outside the ancient, two story brick edifice of the Marconi Street Branch of the SPPL.

By the door built into the wall stood perhaps the library's greatest, non literary curiosity, an ancient artifact from another age, a working payphone, something Amber glanced at every time she went in or out.

“Um, yeah, this is it,” she said exiting the car. She expected Madaline to wait, but she came with Amber instead.

17 minutes later they were going back out the doors of the library, Amber swinging a plastic bag, half happily, half nervously, instead of just carrying the single book out as she usually did.

Amber had gotten two books, with the recent changes in her life and how short the two texts she had been picking from were, she'd decided doubling up was a good idea after much internal deliberation.

One of them, she’d never read, The Strange Case of Doctor Jekyll and Mr Hyde. The other text, much like her phone in her pocket earlier, seemed to be the source of all the bag's weight. Even though when accounting for the size of Jekyll and Hyde and the combined mass of the items Madaline had gotten, it should have been the lightest item of all.

She’d read half of this book over a weekend when she’d been fifteen, but had stopped, as the longer she pushed into it the more strangely uncomfortable and sick and upset it made her feel, for reasons her brain just couldn’t grapple with.

It was so weird, she’d read Dracula several times without a problem.

“Music?” Madaline requested, as they slid back into the car.

Amber pulled the stack of nine CDs Madaline had gotten on Amber’s account out of the bag and passed them over the divide.

“Thanks, princess.”

Amber beamed, happy to do something for Madaline.

For a moment, as Madaline flipped through the CDs, she considered reminding Madaline that as a South Providence resident she could easily get her own library card, but before her vocal cords could even start the process of relaying that fact, Amber thought of at least three reasons why that wasn’t as good an idea as just waiting for Madaline to come to that conclusion herself.

Madaline glanced over at Amber; the album on the top of her stack featured a black and white image of two suited men hosing each other with gasoline while the World Trade Center burned in the background. Madaline tapped a green nail and gently, almost like she was trying to keep the album from thinking she was disrespecting it, set the album behind her seat, out of the selection and continued going back and forth through the remainder.

Amber pressed her lips together and slid the more familiar of the two books she’d gotten out of the bag, just holding it caused a funny little pulling feeling in her stomach.

After much apprehension, she’d decided she wanted to give another try at finishing it, now that she was older maybe she'd grown out of whatever issue the book had once triggered. But holding it here, she wondered if playing roulette like that with her brain when so many things set her off was a good idea.

Madaline worked her way down to three albums and vacillated over Queen’s Innuendo and Twenty One Pilots Blurryface, before at last settling on Passion Pitt’s Gossamer. She set the other CDs behind her seat, slid the disc in the player and started up the car.

Amber’s book was black with white Gothic lettering: Carmilla by Joseph Sheridan Le Fanu.

She placed the book back in the bag, telling herself that it wasn’t a big deal, she could make the determination if she was going to actually read it or not later, or she could dip into it and if it upset her, she could stop right away, hand it over to Madaline to drop back off on one of her outings, so someone with a stronger constitution could enjoy it. No big deal.

She had options and it was nice to have options.

With that all her concerns were quickly wiped away by the blurring world outside the window as Madaline drove them in the direction of the house. It really never took too long in Madaline’s car for whatever concern her brain launched at her to start feeling small and ignorable; sealed inside the combined smells of leather and spearmint and whatever fruit flavor vapor Madaline was currently using, it always made her head feel so delightfully light, though not necessarily sleepy.

“You need anything else before we go home?” Madaline asked, turning down the music; a sweet dreamy electric psychedelica.

She called it home.

Warmth spread through Amber’s chest, it sat there, wonderfully. “No, I’m good, thank you so much.”

“Mmhmmm, right… I want ice cream.”

“What?” The warmth shattered.

Madaline swung her car into a fast food burger chain, pulling into the drive through.

“I need ice cream. What do you want?”

Amber thought over the concept of getting ice cream, the consequences of eating ice cream, the back of her brain tallying the monumental amount of extra calories such a simple act would add to her daily allotment and in the middle of the day no less.

Her brain did such calculations often, though she pretended that it didn’t.

“Just yesterday, you said it was too cold out for cold drinks, doesn't that mean ice cream?” Amber asked, obscuring how severe she actually felt this situation was behind a cute little laugh. Of course, she didn't mind if Madaline got ice cream, Madaline could eat all the ice cream in the world and still be as amazing as ever, no the problem was Amber.

“Right. It was too cold, but you're not stuck at work today, so I'm going to need that ice cream as a heat sink to even things out."

"Wait? How does that... what do you mean, what do I have to do with the weather?"

Madaline waved a hand at the menu ahead of them, "Nothing sunshine, anyway, they've got other stuff so get whatever you want, my treat."

Amber was too occupied with the current nutritional predicament to process the flirting Madaline had hit her with.

Madaline pulled up along the sign and speaker, ordering a large chocolate shake before turning expectantly back to Amber.

“Large diet soda, please,” Amber said.

Madaline’s thumb cracked. “Anything else?”

“No, that’s all,” Amber reassured her.

“Alright,” Madaline shrugged, ordering it for her.

Good, I did good . It’s so hard saying no when she offers me something nice, but I did good.

It was so much easier in the day than at night, at night Madaline’s offerings felt so much more irresistible. She’d been failing to control herself and she needed to cut the fat somewhere, so as badly as she wanted to join in on Madaline’s enthusiasm for a treat, no, she wasn’t going to.

They waited in line. Madaline drummed her fingers on the wheel. “Amber…”

“Yeah?”

“You haven't eaten very much today… some days you don’t eat much like… at… you don’t eat much all day…”

Amber gave a little shrug, the smile that Madaline hated settling on her face, though she didn’t know yet that Madaline hated it. “I get enough. I’m not hungry. You give me lots of snacks at night, it's not like I’m starving,” she laughed.

Below the music still coming lightly from the speakers, Amber's stomach grumbled in disagreement. The little talk of ice cream and the smell of french fries through the window had awoken it from its afternoon hibernation.

Amber quietly clenched her teeth wanting to shush it, to make sure Madaline didn’t pick up the contradiction, she’d offer again and it would be hard to say no or else it would make things awkward. She took a deep breath, held it and her stomach stilled. I need to stay in control, so I can be better, since she and I started hanging out. I've been messing this up lately because she's so... I need to get back on top of things, so shush. I’m making dinner in a few hours anyway and that’s when it’s time to eat. If we’re good we can have some carrots to tide us over when we get home.

The car moved closer.

“Look,”Amber sighed, “After… after what happened.”

There was no question between them of what part of Amber’s life she meant by ‘What Happened’ “I- you know, I’ve never really gotten, like, used to not being h- what I mean is, like being too full feels really strange I feel all big and slow and sluggish.

Awful and ugly and mannish and disgusting. “So I don’t get hungry very easily…” she thought things over, “But it's always sweet for you to offer and I really appreciate it.”

Amber thought this was likely the best way to put an end to the discussion, but on the other hand it encouraged Madaline to continue offering her favored sweets, which Amber then had to resist, she’d be struggling to stay in control again in less than ten hours. That’s on me, I’ve got to take responsibility, like I am right now.

“Right… yeah, I hear what you’re saying,” Madaline said. She seemed to think for a moment, tapping a finger on the wheel and then let the issue go.

Amber breathed an internal sigh of relief.

They got their order.

Madaline took them home, after five minutes it was like it didn’t happen. Amber stayed hungry and in control and Madaline enjoyed her shake.

Once inside, Amber flipped the laundry she’d forgotten about before they left and settled back onto the couch with Jekyll and Hyde.

Madaline carted the laptops up to her room in a couple trips and then came back for her shake, but stopped and stood first sipping by the couch, once more looking around, like she had before she’d invited Amber along with her earlier.

“You know if my music doesn’t distract you too much, you can feel free to come read in my room while I’m working. Like… whenever you want. ”

Amber’s heart beat hard a couple of times and then she nodded, “Oh, okay, yeah, that would be fun, I'd like that.”

She set a timer on her phone to remind her of when the dryer would be done and then started following Madaline upstairs, which quickly became being led as Madaline’s hand rested on her back.

3.

Late into Tuesday evening, Wednesday morning really, the girls started watching Chainsaw Man and the prophecy Amber foretold to Ella came to pass:

Madaline had stared at the screen as Kick Back's bluesy guitar riff started up, her mouth quirking up in curiosity, the fingers on her left hand twitching as they often did when listening to music, then roughly somewhere between seconds 10 and 12, right as the song split open into its chorus, Madaline’s head twitched back, almost startled, and her hand went still.

Her face remained at neutral until the opening's conclusion, “What?” Madaline laughed in disbelief, flicking her thumbnail just under her nose before clapping her hands together, “Yeah, I'm going to need to hear that again, what the fuck, for starters, ah, what’s going on with that timing?”

Amber backed it up for her and Madaline watched it again or rather listened, she turned her head, looking towards Amber, her ear cocked towards the TV. When it ended, she gave her head a little shake and twirled a finger at her friend.

It took Amber a second to understand the gesture, but Amber got it and started the sequence once more.

This time a huge, positively stunning smile slowly spread itself out across Madaline's face, suggesting a kid heading to Disneyland for the first time kind of elation, and finally her left hand resumed twitching, accompanied by both a little bounce to her head and the tapping of her foot.

It ended.

“Alright," Madaline pointed, "So it's jazz-" she halted, coughed, picked up the beat kept going, "It's, ah, jazz in rock drag, right? Very cool.”

Amber’s body hummed with a pleasant buzz for guessing correctly, for introducing Madaline to something she so clearly enjoyed.

Before the end of the first episode Madaline had downloaded the full version of the song into her phone along with a couple of performances with English translated lyrics.

“I can’t believe you’re…” Madaline said, twenty something minutes later as the credits ran.

“What?” Amber asked.

“I just wouldn't think you'd be into something so gory.”

"Well I didn't pi-" The statement had come out quickly and automatically, she'd never had to say it aloud to anyone before, but Amber stopped herself and finished the statement internally instead, there was no reason to say that to Madaline. She hadn't meant anything by it and Madaline seemed to like what she'd seen so far, so that already meant that it was fine.

"What were you saying? Kind of stopped there?" Madaline asked, holding out half an orange until Amber took it.

“Sorry, yeah, I guess I never really thought that much about it. Is it a problem for you?" she asked, picking at the skin of the fruit instead of eating it.

“No, I love it, it's cool, I like where this is going. Are there lesbians in this one?”

“Um… not that I saw.” Amber said apologetically.

“Ah, well, that theme song can buy a ton of rope in spite of serious imperfections,” Madaline concluded.

Madaline almost always asked that question with the start of every series, like several things that cropped up from Madaline every now and then, it was hard to tell if it was a running joke or if it was actually an issue of serious consideration.

The confirmation that Madaline was into the series as well made Amber's skin vibrate, the ghosts of concern over liking such a gory show vanished.

Amber's enjoyment of anime was one of the few places in her life where the taint of her rather stressful upbringing was fairly light, probably because she hadn't been a big TV and movie watcher growing up. Though she'd had a few favorites:

The Nightmare Before Christmas for starters. She counted it among her preferred films even though she'd only seen it twice, once in school for Halloween and once by chance on TV, when her parents were at work and she was home with a fever, a nice but frightening afternoon, her eyes only unlocking from the TV so she could glance out the window, looking out for dad's truck coming in the drive early. Musicals had been deemed inappropriate by that point. She'd been eleven.

Then there was the Great Gatsby which she'd been shown in a High School English class and bought with a gift card she'd gotten from her Grandmother for Christmas that year. She'd adored Baz Luhrmann's interpretation which turned Fitzgerald's novel into a hyper kinetic festival of sound and color. She'd watched that DVD over and over and over, she wished she still had it.

Strangest though, was the original Star Wars trilogy. When she was six, her dad had bought the box set for the family when they'd been on their way back from the hospital emergency room. They'd watched all three together, in one nearly four hour marathon.

Amber had sat captivated, slowly slipping sour nerds into her mouth with her right hand, her dad pouring her a new handful every once and a while from the big box he'd bought her, while her left arm remained immobilized in a fresh cast.

She'd broken it that same morning playing in the garage, doing something she wasn't supposed to do. She couldn't remember what specifically.

While a great number of Amber's memories were fuzzy at best, looking back this one wasn't so odd to her, that whole day was foggy, the memories formed under the haze of heavy medication. Still, she clearly remembered that George Lucas's epic had captivated her as surely as A Wrinkle in Time had that same year. It had been a perfect day, probably the happiest memory she had with her father.

Watching them again a few years later, the ending with Darth Vader redeeming himself through the love of his son and saving Luke from the Emperor had left her struggling not to cry. It was a weird memory for that reason, as that release valve hadn't successfully been welded shut yet.

But overall, she hadn't been a big cinephile growing up and because it wasn't an area she'd shown a heavy amount of regular interest in, there hadn't been so much policing, as a result the format didn't hold the same potential to spawn a negative reaction in the current year.

She even regularly avoided the question of whether or not something was appropriate for her to watch by simply allowing the autoplay to pick something for her when a series ended and then she'd come back to it the next night to keep watching, because as her dad had taught her, when possible it was best to finish things you start.

This strategy left her anxiety with less to work with, if it told her that something was clearly a boy's show, she could respond that she hadn't actually picked anything, thus it wasn't her fault and the fact that she liked it was incidental, it didn't say anything about her.

Amazingly this bit of mental gymnastics usually worked.

She'd found so many new things to enjoy using that argument. She wished she could find ways to make it work for things other than anime.

When she'd been... disowned and had to sell her Switch she'd needed a new non reading way to distract herself in the evening and had taken to using her roommates streaming account through his TV, which he himself never used because of his frequent absences, a practice she'd come to in a near state of desperation.

Like many she'd quickly fallen in love with what she'd found on offer in the anime section.

The first series she'd watched had been Cowboy Bebop, selected because it was the first option available to fill the room's silence.

A week later the series had tied itself off in a beautiful if mournful tragedy.

Aching with a sense of profound loss she'd used the image search engine to see if anyone had drawn the characters and was stunned to find a glut of work. This had opened up worlds for her and both the shows and the fanart had become a consistent source of comfort.

She was so grateful for both, especially now because she could share the wonders she'd found with Madaline the way Madaline shared music with her.

The thought of how they were making such an exchange daily, made her head light with a dizzy happiness.

That night they stayed up a little later than they usually did, getting in Chainsaw Man's first three episodes.

4.

On Wednesday they picked up with the fourth episode, things were going as well as they usually did, but then to Amber's internal dismay, after that things changed... It started between episodes four and five when Madaline went and got a box of Hydrox and two glasses of milk. She sat one glass before Amber on the coffee table and the Hydrox between them.

Amber quietly side eyed the box like she thought it might contain an explosive.

She remembered telling Madaline earlier when she'd stopped for ice cream that she would have snacks.

But I had meatloaf, her brain nearly whined.

Amber also remembered that she needed to stay strong and get back on maintaining her diet or else-

Okay, fine, I can make this work, I'll keep it limited, I won't fail like I have been, so I can't have any for... It's almost midnight, so I'll wait another hour or so and then I'll have one, then another an hour after that, so it'll just be a couple to make her happy, so she'll smile.

But halfway through episode five Madaline’s long fingers slipped a Hydrox from the pack , then she turned her whole torso towards her and offered the cookie up to Amber.

This is how it always went if Amber tried to avoid partaking.

There was no expression on her face, but that didn’t matter, Madaline’s eyes nearly glowed in the dark and that made saying no so hard, her eyes made everything she offered almost luminescent with temptation, like she was highlighting key items for a video game that Amber had no choice but to pick up if she wanted to go forward.

Nor does she say anything, but that doesn't matter either, her voice was in Amber's head: Here, they’re so good. Come on, princess, you’re not really going to make me eat these alone are you? You should have some, go on.

It made Amber’s blood sing with the craving for glucose and cocoa and she was suddenly aware of how cavernously empty her stomach felt, a feeling that she usually associated with success, but now made her dreadfully uncomfortable.

Her resolve almost shattered, but she reminded herself that she’d been caving to these offerings so easily for the last few weeks and it was already starting to show. She could accept treats from Madaline, but it had to be modulated, carefully watched and planned and if she succumbed tonight it would mean she would need to cut something else tomorrow or else face the consequences-

“Um, I’m good right now, thanks though, I'll have some in a little bit.”

She chewed her lip, looking up at Madaline almost pleading with her.

Thankfully, blessedly, Madaline relented with a little shrug, turning back to the show and dunking the cookie in her milk until it was soaked, then bit it in half.

Just watching made Amber think about how drowning it in milk turned the cookie into heavenly chocolaty mush. She had to stop herself from snatching at the pack.

She got control of herself, silencing the craving by quietly breathing deep and staring at the screen hard enough to set it on fire, ignoring the groans from her stomach.

For a while Amber won out, everything was going fine, she was avoiding excess calories while still having a good time, but then Madaline decided to punish her. At approximately 12:15 Madaline hopped on her phone and remained attached to it for most of their evening.

Normally Madaline’s messaging wasn’t a constant distraction to her, she maybe sent out four messages, sometimes with a selfie, with maybe a couple of additional messages on Thursdays, but tonight she hopped on her phone and was on and off it sending messages almost consistently until 2:00 AM. Amber caught a range of emotions here and there; grins, grimaces, huffs, her tongue flicking over her lips, finger cracks and even a couple laughs

Now, Amber understood that the idea that Madaline would punish her for not eating a cookie was nonsense, the passive aggressiveness of it seemed so out of character. No, Amber knew from stories told both by Simon and Madaline herself that when Madaline punished someone it tended to be unmistakable and direct, just plain aggressive, nothing passive about it.

The means was ridiculous as well, if Madaline wanted to punish her, she could think of something better.

So it was nonsense right, she was being crazy, but knowing didn't change the emotional reality. Her anxiety snatched onto Madaline's change in behavior, and stretched it, whispering over and over: she’s mad, make it right or she won’t want you anymore.

It also simultaneously reassured Amber, that if she did what she had to do to make Madaline happy, she’d get even fatter and no one will like her, that this would also result in Madaline not wanting her anymore.

No, please stop, she wouldn’t, that’s ridiculous, she wouldn’t-

In response a tendril of anxiety ripped open her internal file on Madaline, going right to the back where she didn’t like to look, coiling itself around the note she’d slipped in there from Simon.

You don't really know her, Simon said in her head.

Still, Amber stuck to her plan, around 1 AM she ate a cookie, resisting the urge to swallow it up in two bites to soothe her stomach which returned to cravenly whining to be filled the second her fingertips touched the sweet.

Madaline turned and smiled as Amber chewed.

It made Amber feel so much better.

But then Madaline took another cookie and turned back to her phone.

Amber held the second half of her cookie limply between her fingers, looking out at the bloody anime battle on the TV screen, internally trying to solve the conundrum. She'd placated Madaline, but she also needed to make sure she cut back on calories and then she got it.

She knew how to make this work at least for this night and it was a principle she could perhaps use at other times as well.

Amber looked over at Madaline from the corner of her eye, checking that Madaline was still engrossed in whoever she was talking to. Of course she was, Madaline shook her head at the phone, running her tongue over her lips before biting them.

Amber slipped the remaining half of her cookie into the glass, dunking it, submerging the remains before dropping it, letting it sink down to where she couldn’t get at it.

By doing this she could effectively cut tonight's snack intake safely in half.

She was pleased with herself for all of about three seconds, before Madaline cracked a knuckle, sending fear slicing through Amber's self congratulations, but then she glanced over and no, of course not, it was something in her phone that had irked her, she was once more shaking her head in exasperation.

Have more cookies, just keep going, just keep doing it until she notices, said the familiar unfamiliar voice like a whisper of satin.

Cooler internal voices prevailed, that would totally ruin the losses she’d gained through the strategy if she just abused it like that, and all because... what... because Madaline was a little more distracted tonight, because she had a social life that Amber had no place in?

Why was she so upset about this and what right did she think she had to try to claim Madaline's attention that way, who did she think she was?

The unfamiliar voice provided her two cents, I can give you three excellent reasons to just have more cookies, reason one: more cookies, reason two: you are so hungry, reason three: Madaline, you saw how she smiled, just think how pleased she’ll be if you-

No, Amber thought sternly. In less than an hour, I can have another half. If I keep it at one an hour, by the time I go to bed I’ll only have had one serving and that should be acceptable for both me and Madaline.

The back of the Hydrox package listed two cookies as a serving, one must assume that it meant two full cookies.

The back of her brain ran down the list of consequences of enjoying too many of Madaline’s favored sweets and, for a moment, just for a moment, she felt how unfair this was, she was doing good, she was in control and still, that wasn’t acceptable. Anything good, even in moderation, anything that wasn’t bad thoughts that made her feel less hungry, that was her being unreasonable.

But after a few minutes away from her half a cookie, when she could no longer taste its glorious richness on her tongue, she moved her mind back to considering Madaline's continued messaging.

The easiest explanation for Madaline's behavior is that they had been doing this almost every night for weeks and Madaline had at last gotten bored with her, had probably been bored long before now, but had obliged Amber, until she just couldn’t take it anymore.

I should just tell her it's alright. That she doesn't have to hang out with me as much as she does… or at all, but… I can’t, then she’ll- this is so horrible, I hate it-

It felt so unfair, this wasn’t supposed to happen during this time of day, not necessarily Madaline talking to someone, but… Amber, herself, feeling this way, feeling so sad and scared and-

Thus, from there she settled into the muck of her own brain, her finger running around the rim of her glass of milk, taking slow, quiet breaths. Every once in a while the more rational part of her would interject that she was being totally irrational and that she couldn’t let herself come totally unglued because of cookies and because Madaline was having a conversation, which ,for all Amber knew, could be a totally necessary, totally undesired work chat.

Self recrimination though it was, this was at least a sliver of awareness breaking through, but by the time 2 AM neared, she had spiraled into the certainty that Madaline wasn’t just bored, but out and out regretted being her friend at all, and the longer Amber went without telling her that she didn't have to be her friend, that she understood, the more likely that regret and boredom was going to turn into abject hatred and if that happened, Amber thought she might die.

Madaline gave a put upon sigh that made Amber wince in guilt, but then she ran a hand through her gorgeous spun hair and tossed her phone on the coffee table with a clatter. She rubbed her temple, before carefully selecting another Hydrox.

Amber watched her open it and lick out the frosting before dipping it in her glass of milk, patiently waiting until it became nice and soft. She looked at Amber.

Amber gave Madaline her doll smile.

Madaline ran her tongue under her upper teeth, “Mmmm-” she said hurrying the cookie’s halves into her mouth, she’d let it soak too long while looking at Amber and it had become structurally unstable.

Chewing slowly, she took Amber in, taking note of her finger running around the ring of the glass.

Madaline swallowed and drank some of her milk, running her tongue around the inside if her mouth, sweeping her teeth, then she turned her torso towards Amber and her face broke into that smile that reassured Amber, against her near two hour internal maelstrom that there was no one else she would rather see. “You okay princess?”

No.

“Yes, um, of course.”

“Right, cause I haven’t seen you this bad at this time of day… not for a while.”

Amber gave a marionette shrug.

Madaline nodded and hummed.

Amber figured she would jump back to her phone now, but she didn’t.

Madaline looked over the tips of her fingers, licking off the index and thumb, and dusted off any crumbs that might be on her palms, then moved forward and wrapped Amber in her arms, pulling the small girl into her.

Warmth flooded Amber’s being, all the awful shapes that her brain had conjured up throughout the evening turned from solid, certain objects into vapor for the wind to take away.

It was like she was a machine that had been going haywire, but Madaline had inserted a gear into the right spot where something was missing and now functions were able to return to normal. Then there was the added effect of the absolute familiarity of it, Madaline hadn't bothered asking permission this time, she’d just seen that Amber had needed it and done it.

Truth be told, Amber’s thoughts were, here, off base from reality, it implied a level of consideration that Madaline had not put in.

In her own head, Madaline kicked herself for not asking if it was alright to hug her before snuggling a girl with serious panic issues, but Madaline was reassured when Amber pressed her face into her hair.

After a couple minutes, Madaline unwrapped her, but held her shoulders gently, giving Amber all of her attention, “Are you sure you’re okay, you can-”

“I, um- I was just- um, you’ve been on your phone for the last little bit just… was just worried you're bored.”

"Oh, oh, right.” A hand clapped the side of Madaline's forehead as she glanced to the screen, her hand coming back to rest on Amber's shoulder. “Ah… yeah. It’s just, I mean, no, I’m not bored, not at all, this one is great, ” once more she ran a hand through her silky blonde hair, and it was a wonderful visual, but it also had another unintended effect on Amber:

No, please, put your hand back on me.

She didn’t say it and as soon as she'd had the thought, she shoved it below.

“Listen, I'm sorry that this had to happen right now, I should’ve said something, it’s not you or the show, it’s just,” she took a deep breath, “I’ve got this… friend and I feel like they might be in trouble with this thing or it could be really bad in the long run and I’m trying to figure out how to help them without causing even more problems.”

Amber looked up at her.

Madaline gave a little laugh. “And I swear to god I’m not just cooking up an excuse on the spot to save your feelings, this is something that’s seriously been like a growing concern for a minute and I just-” Madaline shrugged helplessly. “I’m sorry if I made you feel like I didn’t want to be here, this is honestly like my favorite part of the day right now.”

“Really?” Amber asked.

“Absolutely,” she pulled Amber into another hug.

Amber’s heart picked up, her head felt so light. Madaline hugged her in such a wonderful way, her head resting on top of her’s, it made Amber feel so good and safe, like nothing could ever hurt her.

But there always came a moment when the hug ended.

Amber looked up at her once more, leather and spearmint still drifting through her. “What’s wrong with them? If I can ask?”

Madaline licked her lips, “It’s kind of complicated to explain, I'm not sure how it all fits together, but it’s like a… medical problem.”

“Did you figure anything out?”

“I got the best answers I’m going to be able to get for now, I know what I'm going to do,” Madaline nodded, clasping her hands.

“Good,” said Amber. “I hope you’re able to help them, I hope they’re okay… in the end.”

Madaline’s mouth hung open slightly. “Ye-yeah,” Madaline agreed. “Me too, I can't.. even tell you, but, wow, I was really in it for a while, would you mind if we maybe went back to like I think episode five?”

“No, that’s fine, I don’t mind at all.”

“Thanks princess.”

Amber put episode five back on.

Madaline leaned into her, drawing up two cookies and offered one of them to Amber.

Amber almost took it automatically, but stopped herself.

“I really shouldn't, I think I've had too many, you know,” Amber said.

She waited for Madaline to challenge her on the one cookie she'd had so far.

She didn't.

“Do you feel sick?”

Amber thought about lying, almost did, but didn't. “No.”

“Then you should have one.”

“Until I’m sick?”

“Mmmm, no, but they’re good right?”

They are so good, they’re so sweet and wonderful and creamy and delicious and with Madaline’s question that isn’t a question the full force of her hunger ramrods back into her body.

Meanwhile, the back of her brain explains that the cookie is 65 additional calories and that even if it doesn’t make her sick in-

Stop it. Even if it’s true just- just stop.

She nodded, “Yeah, yeah, they are.”

Madaline's tone shifted slightly, taking on a quality Amber had only heard once before, just two words in the Lockmann/Mellor living room, low and soft, like purring, it makes every thought in Amber's head go dead. “Then you should have at least a few more. You should indulge yourself more often, you deserve it.”

I deserve it? she thought faintly.

Had Amber honestly believed Madaline's eyes glowed in the dark before? No, she'd lacked perspective, because now they were shining in their intensity, incandescent.

It took another moment, but she accepted the cookie.

Was allowed to have one at two anyway.

Amber nibbled the sweet, watching the show.

It’s just a snack, she’ll get back on a regular yoga regiment or start running daily, she can indulge just a little, she can compensate for it, and really the way Madaline says it makes it sounds so gratifying, indulgence sounds positively blissful.

Indulge yourself, repeated in Amber’s brain, it's Madaline's voice for the first few repetitions, but the familiar unfamiliar voice picked it up and took over.

As she chews, she takes a second to consider the voice, she'd heard it before somewhere, where had she picked it up, where had she heard it?

But it doesn't matter, because the voice continued repeating itself, like the soft beat of music or a heart, and before Amber realized it she'd been overcome by an impulse and she's moving.

Madaline in her dream of taking Amber to Happy House had wondered how well they would fit together. A distant part of Amber doesn't wonder, it knows, it's utterly certain that their bodies would fit together quite well.

Amber's moments of impulse are funny things, waves of feeling so powerful that they overcome her, until her mind is a space where wanting the thing and doing the thing occur almost simultaneously. Most of her moments of impulse are over fairly quickly, set off situationally, powered by a dosage of emotional fuel that builds up in the parts of herself that she refuses to think about. It has to happen fast in completion of the desire or else it'll burn itself out, allowing her to think more closely about what she's actually doing,

The truth is she has many more of these moments than she realizes, they flicker through her head fairly often, but don't become powerful enough to overtake her, running into various psychological barriers of meaning, consequences and appearances. The impulses are like waves they grow and either smash through the barriers or they hit and roll back.

The impulse that allowed her to begin her transition was unusual, nothing like that had, to her memory, happened before, where there was such a release of that emotional fuel that it resulted in a sustained state of mania that had lasted not minutes or hours but about two months, permanently altering both her and her life.

If Madaline fully understood this about Amber, she'd likely reference Led Zeppelin and say something along the lines that if it perpetually rains for twenty years eventually the levee isn't just going to spill over a bit, it's going to out and out break.

That flood had happened in November and ended in December of her Sophomore year, then by March Amber had effectively rebuilt her levee, but in the two years since then the rain had not stopped, in fact since then it had been raining harder than ever.

This, however, is not the moment the levee breaks. This is only a spill.

The spill happens, the wave rushes the barrier.

It's such a simple thing her body is attempting.

The wave crashes into the barrier and rolls back.

Amber managed to stop herself in time.

What- No, I did not just try to- No!

She hadn’t moved much, Madaline hadn't even noticed, she’d only gotten as far as shifting her legs up onto the couch, now sitting in what she thought of as mermaid style, leaning into Madaline. It was the halfway mark through the action her body had started and quite comfortable in itself.

I was just putting my legs on the couch, getting comfy, it's late, I'm tired. That is all I was doing. No, absolutely not.

That’s what she tells herself and by tomorrow when she wakes up she’ll believe it.

She could have the oddest impulses, she could be so weird.

It was true that female friendships could be close, but that was a little much, a little odd. She’d have freaked Madaline out if she’d done that, it would have at least been awkward.

Which is why it's fortunate she'd only been putting her legs up on the couch.

There was no second half of that action, that impulse, that indulgence, where she twisted a little more, up to her knees and from there moved forward and positioned herself, testing out the ergonomic advantages of sitting in Madaline Mellor’s lap.