Chapter 15: Arya

December

Arya hated girl's night with a fiery passion.

She was not, nor had she ever been, a "girly" type. It had been one of the larger points of contention between her and Sansa growing up. Sansa liked pink and purple and nail polish and perfume and hairstyles. Arya liked wrestling with Jon and practicing fencing and maybe, if she was in the mood, doodling on one of their father's seven trillion pads of paper.

But the only thing she hates more than girl's night was girl's afternoon. You couldn't even get drunk during girl's afternoon, because it would bring you under scrutiny.

But Roslin had a big date with Edmure ("Two month anniversary!" she had squealed in a way that made Arya almost feel sick) and Sansa had decided that some in-house bonding (Arya hated that word) was in order.

And so she found herself in a room with Sansa and Roslin, helping brush hair, wax legs, and paint nails.

Sansa was in her element for the first time in months. She knew exactly what color would look best on Roslin, and even offered up one of her old Ballroom dresses (one with a ridiculously low-cut back) for the occasion. It was a dark blue, and shiny in ways that Arya couldn't approve of and Roslin was positively beside herself with joy at the prospect of wearing it.

The entire afternoon, Roslin would gush about Edmure. How handsome he was, how kind, how chivalrous, how thoughtful, how strong, to the extent that Arya wondered if Roslin was dating the same oaf that was her uncle.

Sansa asked all the right questions, clucked in approval at all the right times, and Arya couldn't bring herself to say anything snarky, not when Sansa looked truly and utterly happy for the first time in months.

When it was Sansa's turn for preening, Roslin asked her about her life, and Sansa (whose social life had been decidedly quiet this semester) began talking at great lengths about her history seminar, and how she was thinking of changing majors, and how Tyrion Lannister was really a very good man and an even better professor.

Roslin looked surprised at the comment, and when she questioned Sansa more, Sansa simply shrugged and said, "He understands everything better than anyone. I kind of want to be him when I grow up."

"Especially the rich bit, I imagine," teased Roslin. Sansa's glance was skeptical.

When the two girls turned to her, Arya raised her hands in self-defense. "Don't you dare," she growled.

But they did dare. They attacked her hair with a vengeance she had not thought possible. They were kind and did not touch the make-up though, and, by the time they were done, Arya's short hair looked more like a bob than it ever had before. She had to concede that they were good at what they did.

"Anyone in your life?" teased Roslin. "What about the dreamy fencer? The Dornish one?"

"Seven hells," grumbled Arya, thinking of Ned Dayne. She had made the mistake of letting him follow her home once, and ever since Roslin had been teasing her. She could only be glad that Roslin hadn't found Hot Pie worthy of teasing. "No. There isn't anyone."

She was surprised at how sad that made her feel. She was quiet for the rest of the evening, and when Edmure showed up to pick up Roslin, she disappeared into her room and grabbed her binoculars. She trained them on the White Ravens, taking notes, and then, as always, she found Gendry's window.

There was something taped there, that she could only read through the reflected light of the snowy porch roof.

Sorry A, I'm out tonight. G.

She'd kill Jon. She'd kill him dead.

Oh, she couldn't believe it. Why hadn't he told her that he knew? They'd spent time together, acted as though everything was normal. Had he been laughing at her secretly the entire time?

The thought made her stomach twist.

She reached for her phone.

Arya Stark: What is that supposed to mean?

Immediately after sending it, she wished she hadn't. She wished she hadn't conceded that she did sometimes—all right, often—watch him. She began knocking her hand against her forehead, muttering "stupid, stupid, stupid!"

Her phone buzzed.

Gendry Waters: Precisely what it means. Am out tonight. Friend's band is in town. Thought you should know that you wouldn't get your usual show.

Arya Stark: What's that supposed to mean?

Gendry Waters: You and I both know what that means.

Arya Stark: No. No we don't. You're delusional and stupid.

Gendry Waters: You spy on me when you do your Ornithology project.

Arya Stark: I do not. Your window gets in the way.

Gendry Waters: How does my window get in the way? It's behind the tree with the ravens.

Arya Stark: Exactly. You think I'm watching you when I'm watching the ravens.

Gendry Waters: Then how come you noticed my sign?

Arya Stark: I noticed you put up a piece of paper and wanted to see what it said.

Gendry Waters: You and I both know that that's not true.

Arya Stark: Yes it is.

Gendry Waters: I think we should talk about this in person.

Arya Stark: No. No we shouldn't. It's nothing important.

Gendry Waters: It's everything important. Look, I'm coming over now. Stay where you are.

Arya Stark: Don't you dare.

He did not reply.

Arya sat there, panicked, humiliated, terrified.

Arya Stark: I want to get blitzed. Where are you.

Syntax Waif: At home. Come over.

Arya called to Sansa that she was headed out, pulled on her coat and raced out the front door before she even heard Sansa begin to respond.

She was at Syntax Waif's door in five minutes, breathing hard. The other girl opened the door carrying one of the largest bottles of rum Arya had ever seen.

Within a minute, they were sitting on the floor in Syntax Waif's living room, each with a large glass in front of them. As Syntax Waif poured, she said, "These are the rules. We tell each other things. If you lie and I catch you, you drink. If I guess wrong, I drink. Same for me. Got that?"

"What the hell kind of drinking game is this?"

"The interesting kind. I'll start. I'm from Myr."

"That can't be right," said Arya immediately. Syntax Waif spoke like she came from Lannisport.

"Drink. Your turn." Arya drank, and thought.

"I've always hated my mother for the way she treats Jon."

"A lie." She did not wait for Arya to refute her. "I watched my child die in my arms."

Arya stared at her. Syntax Waif's face was inscrutable. "True." Syntax Waif drank. "I caused my best friend's death when I was twelve."

And so they went. Back and forth, back and forth until Arya couldn't sit up straight. She heard her phone buzz many times, all of them Gendry calling her.

"Gendry loves me."

"A truth." Arya drank.

"I have never been in love."

"A lie."

"Drink."

"I love Gendry."

"A truth."

And Arya slowly, almost unbelievingly, lifted her glass to her lips.

It was the last thing she remembered from that night.