[Sarah6258: Like now???]
[Witchofthew3st: i mean like yea]
[Sarah6258: So you wanted me to hop on the game so that I could get off the game? Whattttt @-@]
[Witchofthew3st: we could play another game or smthin if you want. Tbh that first one was because i hadnt worked up the spunk yet and i was stalling]
[Sarah6258: Yuck!!! Who in the 21st century is saying spunk??]
Owen couldn’t help but awkwardly hang her fingers over the keyboard, as if she was a second away from typing a response despite taking thirty seconds before daring to move her hands again.
[Witchofthew3st: me ig. Idk do you wanna meet up or what? its totally fine if not i know you prolly got plans and all.]
[Sarah6258: Prolly. Lol. You type funny, but a good kind of funny. I’ll be over in the union in like 20 minutes.]
[Witchofthew3st: 20mins???? girl are you okay arent you like right next to the union? you gotta take off that fuckin church garb before you leave or smthin?
[Sarah6258: Yes???????????????????????]
[Witchofthew3st: omg im gonna kill myself]
[Witchofthew3st: ur not like joking are you?]
[Witchofthew3st: wait wai t wait waitt dont answer i don wanna know]
[Witchofthew3st: cya in 20 bye]
Owen reached over to turn her monitor off before she even got a chance to see a response from Sarah. Embarrassment hung on her shoulders as she slumped over onto her desk in front of her.
“So stupid.”
Aoife’s reassurance that her sudden departure was totally a “her” thing and had nothing to do with Owen did very little to sway Owen’s mind. She had done very little at all in the silence of the empty dorm since Aoife had left.
Well… very little aside from a desperate attempt to boost her mood with a mirror and the tube of Crimson Carmine lipstick. Something which Owen couldn’t help but feel pathetic for doing. There was almost nothing that signaled a disastrous mental state more than sitting in front of a mirror and applying makeup through a steady stream of tears.
Tears which were shed for almost no discernable reason to Owen. She couldn’t decide if she was crying because Aoife left her alone for the day, because she felt authentically seen in such a vulnerable moment, or because sobbing was the emotional shorthand for “holyshittoomanyfeelingsgetitoutgetitoutgetitout”.
It helped. But it wasn’t enough for Owen to fully rid herself of the nauseating feeling that lingered in her gut. Messaging Sarah out of the blue was Owen’s impulsive attempt to rid the last of that feeling from her gut, or at the very least distract herself enough to forget about it for a while.
Without the need to disrobe herself of the lord’s garments, she had far less to do than Sarah before leaving the dorm to head towards the student union. Owen opened the bottom drawer of her desk, where she now kept the sparse makeup supplies that were exclusively “borrowed” from either Castle or Aoife. Owen knew just as well as the others that when they gave her the makeup to borrow, it was really just an alternative way of saying “this is yours now”. Owen couldn’t help but ruminate on their choice of words when they had first filled the bottom drawer of her desk with makeup. Was it to make her feel more at ease? As if the subtle separation of ownership between herself and the assorted eyeshadow palettes would let her ease into new expression with less pressure?
It was thoughtful, at the very least.
She tugged one of the makeup wipes out of the container, only freeing it from the vice of the plastic contraption after two yanks and a hand placed on the circumference of the opening in a frustrating concession that she wouldn’t be able to grab the wipe with only one hand. Owen slathered the wipe across her lips to rid the tint from her face before leaving the safety of her dorm room. She shook her face from the disgust of the wet sensation. Owen believed that babies were most vindicated in their tears when they were cleaned with baby wipes. The feeling of cold wet fabric brushing across any part of her body aside from her hands, and perhaps forearms at the very most, was revolting.
Makeup wipes were not particularly famed for their aerodynamic capabilities, and the one that left Owen’s hands as she dropped it over the trash can was no different. It crumpled into the mother can, as it were, for the inside of the trash can was filled just over halfway with the cans of sodas and energy drinks. Owen firmly closed the door behind her as she left, with the hope that the room would be at least 50% more occupied when she returned.
* * * * *
“-so he just tucks himself in or something? It hits 9:30pm and he’s counting sheep like he’s hungry to learn the alphabet the next day or something?”
“Owen! No he’s not like-” Sarah’s immediate defense of Deacon was playful, but there was an almost immediate shift in her tone towards a more genuine tenor. “He’s very serious about video games. I know that sounds silly, but I feel like you of all people can appreciate how dedicated he is.”
Owen bridled at the comparison between Deacon and herself. While both of them might have been dedicated to video games, Sarah’s choice to describe Deacon as “serious” left a sour taste in Owen’s mouth. “He sure is serious about video games. But I think that’s exactly what makes us so different. That, and I don’t have the bedtime of an elementary schooler.”
“You’re not serious about video games?” Sarah seemed genuinely baffled at the suggestion.
“I’m passionate about video games.” Owen’s hadn’t meant for her smile to become a smirk, but it had steadily morphed into one as Sarah went from confused to exasperated. Her own expression steadily became that of a smile as she sat with the seemingly pedantic splitting of hairs that was Owen’s own word choice. Read the latest chapters at novelping(.)com.
“Mmm. Maybe you’re right. It does feel like Deacon views UMDK as a responsibility more than an-”
“Escape?”
“Not what I was thinking but… we can go with that.” Sarah’s saccharine smile was so comforting that Owen nearly missed the subtle examination that occurred after blurted out her own answer to a question that was never asked.
“Deacon just feels very obligated. There’s a lot of expectations that have been placed upon him, and sometimes it feels like he obsesses over appearances of his own success so much that… well, maybe I shouldn’t be talking about that.” Owen was consistently surprised with Sarah’s patience with Deacon. She had yet to decide if she found it admirable or heartbreaking. “You’re absolutely right about your passion, though. I don’t know if I have seen someone live and breathe UMDK the way that you do. We only got to play one game today, but you just make it all seem so effortless.”
“Oh. Thanks. UMDK has just always felt comfortable for me, I guess.”
The words that Owen muttered caused Sarah to briefly furrow her eyebrows. She couldn’t help but think back to the tryout matches where Owen was anything but comfortable. Was the difference in equipment and augments vast enough that it could rob her of the effortless comfortability that she displayed in her recent matches? Or was there another reason as to why Owen’s performance changed dramatically across their games?
“So why did you pick a-” “It kind of feels like oobleck to me.”
“I’m sorry what?” “What did I pick?”
“No. No I’m sorry we can’t just move past what you said, Owen.”
“It feels like oobleck?”
“What does???” Sarah adjusted her sitting position for the first time since she had joined Owen on the uniquely shaped couch in a back corner of the student union. When she had first arrived to greet Owen in the secluded crevice of the first floor, she sat on the edge of the couch with her legs crossed and her body twisted towards Owen. It looked as though a ribbon had been tugged just hard enough to release the wrappings around Sarah’s body when she moved her legs onto the couch. With her legs pulled up to her right side on the couch, she was able to maintain her perpetual aura of kempt elegance even as she intentionally let it slip enough to make her more comfortable.
“UMDK??? Wasn’t that what we were just talking about?”
Despite attempting to offer clarification, Owen had only caused more confusion to spread across Sarah’s wide eyed expression.
Sarah wracked her mind every consideration of how the two topics could relate to one another. “I don’t-” Is it supposed to be a metaphor? “I’m not-” Is it a Newton joke? Non-Newtonian fluid and Newton like gravity? “I can’t even begin to comprehend where you’re going with this, and I’m not sure if I even want to!”
“UMDK is like oobleck because I just kinda… sink into it.” Owen started her analogy far braver than she imagined it would be. “Far braver”, being horribly cowardly. But that was still braver than her every expectation of ditching the analogy before it even started.
“God, give me the courage.” Sarah clasped her hands together and raised her head up towards the ceiling with eyes closed to the fluorescents above.
“Wha- hey you don’t get to do that! You already took off your sky daddy merch for the day, you can’t try to haul him into this conversation to dunk on me!”
Sarah’s facade of a prayer fell apart immediately when she lurched forward with a laugh. There was a splendid amount of carefree joy that seemed to almost float amongst the air around her. Owen found it striking just how much more comfortable Sarah seemed when she wasn’t on UMDK.
“Do you have any… merch? Like for-” Sarah never finished her sentence, but the careful way in which she omitted the subject made it clear to Owen what she meant.
“Nah. Most of my family is in the fandom, but it just never really appealed to me.” Owen shifted her own position on the couch to match the way that Sarah had managed to sit comfortably whilst still wearing a skirt. Well, it was almost a match. Upon mirroring Sarah, she noted just how odd it looked for her to have her legs to the side. After her momentary pause, she slipped her legs underneath herself to sit on her knees with the cushion soaking up most of the pressure on her legs.
“Can I ask why?”
“It just didn’t feel like my place. Felt like I was always surrounded by people who knew all of the lyrics to the same song, and I just stood amongst them muttering sounds that were in the ballpark of an English word that may or may not even be in the lyrics. I was just kind of… mimicking what I saw.” There was far more silence than Owen expected. She was waiting for Sarah to say something, but rather than speaking, the blonde girl opted to smile. Were it anyone else, Owen would feel uneasy, but Sarah’s face was captivatingly patient. She listened intently and offered genuine understanding where others would offer judgement.
It was so genuine that Owen felt the need to joke, if only to ease the growing seriousness.
“I also got the ending spoiled when I was a child so it just kind of killed the tension.”
Sarah rolled her eyes. She had heard that joke many times throughout her life. Owen had told that joke many times throughout her life.
“What’s the ending then?”
“Huh?” New chapters come out on novelping.com first.
“Well you said it got spoiled so I just wanted to know what the ending was.” Sarah knew that Owen knew that Sarah knew the “ending”. But Owen was far too curious about Sarah’s tactic to let it stop here.
“JC gets a footjob, is merked by the romans, and then comes back to life so he can sign everyone’s yearbook and fuck off back to heaven. Did I get that right?” Owen smirked casually as she watched Sarah try to decide which part of her description was most egregious.
“That’s not even—do you actually know what the very end of the bible is?” Sarah jokingly asked a question that she already knew the answer to.
“You’re telling me there’s more to it after Jesus gets all of the HAGS from the disciples?” Owen’s joke, and blithe discussion of the bible unintentionally betrayed that she knew more than she would ever let on about the religion that she was swaddled in throughout her life.
“The ending is all of the Revelations stuff! The apocalypse, a new heaven and earth, and the promise that Jesus will return to make it all happen.” Sarah’s initial excitement slowly became more reserved as she spoke. It was an odd feeling for her to speak about her faith with someone who did not share it. Typically, she would stray away from, or brush past the mention of religion amongst people who she knew were not interested in the topic. Sarah couldn’t help but admire the way in which Owen jokingly, yet authentically, spoke about her feelings on the matter.
“Man, that shit is so funny, I’m sorry. You’re telling me the bible ends with sequel bait?! They cut to black to show ‘Jesus will return’ like we’re getting a Bible 2 in theaters?!”
“Owen!” Sarah’s reaction lacked any semblance of hostility, and carried only a sliver of embarrassment when a passing student stopped to stare for a moment. Owen and Sarah waited awkwardly for the student to pull out his phone and walk away, his attention now focused entirely on texting whoever he could rant to about “annoying students in the union”, most likely.
“Just be glad your holy vestments were left in your dorm. I wouldn’t want you to have to wash all of the blasphemy off of them.”
Sarah laughed at Owen’s joke. Owen laughed in response to Sarah.
It was weird not to laugh with someone else when you are the only two present. It would be lonely to laugh by yourself for an audience of one.
“I sink into it because I don’t try. Most people who play UMDK are only focused on getting good at the game, or trying to prove that they're better than someone. I think the more you force it, the harder it is to enjoy the game.” Owen had no idea if her words made any sense to the teammate across from her, but she had gone far enough towards the “point” to be able to back out now.
“It’s kind of like oobleck.” She said, letting the words hang in the air in front of her as she anxiously awaited Sarah’s reaction.
“That’s why you’re so comfortable in the game?” Sarah leaned to her left to press herself against the inconveniently shaped couch, which had seemingly been designed by freak accident when an abstract expressionist was let loose in the student union. The “back” of the couch, if you were bold enough to call it one, rose up and down along the length of its curved form to ensure only 20% of the couch had a backrest of normal height. Sarah was in the 80%, and painfully aware of the irony in discussing comfortability while attempting to leverage her weight against the low back of the couch that pressed into her hip.
“Mhm. I sink into it because it feels like I belong there, and I’m really only there to enjoy myself. I enjoy winning, obviously, but none of it really matters if I’m not having fun in the game. I’m always in it because I feel like-”
“You know the lyrics to the song.” Sarah cut Owen’s words short, saving the breath it took to say words that she already knew were coming. Owen smiled.
“Sometimes it feels like I even know the lyrics better than anyone else around me. Like they’re the ones trying to follow along to a verse they only partially know, instead of the other way around. It’s the only time in my life where I feel like I’m not the odd one out hoping to blend in.”
Owen and Sarah didn’t speak for 4 minutes. The silence was anything but uncomfortable, at least in regards to their conversation. The couch, which led to the students adjusting themselves multiple times, was a different story. The two students opted to face one another directly on the couch without any more reliance on attempting to sit on the couch normally, as it seemed to vindictively punish any attempt to do so. Owen sat with her legs criss-crossed in front of her while Sarah pushed her legs straight out in front of her with her hands placed in her lap. Neither college student felt the need to cut short the quiet that allowed them to appreciate the understanding that grew between them. In times like these, Owen usually felt the urge to say something along the lines of “this was really nice”, or “it was great to talk like this”. The silence had already fulfilled the need.
“So… what did you want to talk about?” Sarah asked the question, which immediately begged a follow up due to Owen’s quizzical expression. “You wanted to meet up in the union for a reason, right? You very vaguely suggested that there was something on your mind when we played our match earlier. I doubt that religion and non-Newtonian fluids were the topics you meant to discuss.”
Owen balked at the suggestion that she actually discuss the topic on her mind, despite it being the very reason she impulsively asked to hang out with Sarah in the first place. How could she transition the conversation into discussing her relationship with Aoife? How would she explain the burning anxieties about presenting herself in a terrifying and exciting new way? How could she express the envy that perpetually enveloped her mind over the smallest things, like the reddish pink lipstick that Sarah so casually wore?
It was suddenly so daunting that Owen felt the need to joke, if only to ease the weight of speaking her mind to anyone other than Aoife.
“Why do you doubt that? Is it so unbelievable that I would want to open a heartfelt correspondence about watery cornstarch and crucifixions?"
“Oh my God, Owen.” Sarah chuckled and pressed a hand over her eyes to feign a sense of annoyance that was made transparently false as a consequence of her wide smile.
“Makes for a good band name, no? Cornstarch and crucifixions?” A toothy grin accompanied Owen’s relief that she had successfully diverted the traffic of their talk once more in an effort to stall.
“You’re a funny guy," Sarah abruptly stopped and swiftly stumbled over her words, “er—person, Owen.”
Owen’s mind blanked.
“I-I need to go I-I think I left a…” the lack of stoves in the dorms was suddenly a crippling inconvenience, “I gotta go.”
As if inspired by their conversation, Owen’s legs felt like they had adapted the fluid properties of oobleck and nearly collapsed from underneath her as she stood up from the couch in a hurry. She slammed her shin into the non-coffee table table, a standard table, with no aspirations of being used to support coffee, while she staggered away. The blonde girl left behind followed Owen’s movements with her head, a flabbergasted expression frozen on her face as she slowly processed everything that had occurred in just seconds.
“Sarah…? What are you-” Deacon’s voice struck fear in both Owen and Sarah, with the former having just been noticed by Deacon.
“You.”