Sisters and Friends
Chapter 6
About the Mating Game
"Nice blouse," smiles Annie. "I could spot you clear across campus. How goes the low-level psychological war?"
"Not sure, but it can't hurt. I like this tie-dye stuff. I've been wearing it around the house when I know Mom's gonna be around."
"You smell groovy too," laughed Annie. "That patchouli is a pretty calming scent. Does it attract butterflies?"
"Actually it seems to keep bugs away; but it does attract that skeevy guy from our Psych class. And I'm starting to hear sitars when it's real quiet."
"You crack me up, Quinn. One day you're dressed like a lawyer in training, and the next like this. Seriously Jekyll and Hyde."
"All part of the plan…besides, I need to dress my age. My closet was full of stuff that didn't really fit anymore, and it made me look like a teen twit."
"And this…?"
"A paean to a lost idealism," emoted Quinn, the back of her hand to her forehead.
"Or maybe a warning against eating a pound of gummi bears after a six-pack of beer," snickered Annie. "I still like it. I'll do retro tomorrow. We could alternate, really freak people out."
Quinn shaded her eyes, looking across the quad. "Age of Aquarius, take two," she smiled. Annie followed her gaze and broke into a grin.
A trio of girls were skipping across the grass, two of them in peasant dresses. The third, in embroidered jeans and a particularly garish tie-dye top, carried a guitar with flower stickers all over it.
"Either they're making fun of us or we really did start a fad," laughed Annie.
"Goddam kids nowadays don't think for themselves," mock-tutted Quinn.
"You think we can get them to burn their bras?" deadpanned Annie.
"No way, my bras fit great and I just bought them."
It was nearly midnight when Quinn straightened the twenty-page term paper and reached for a binder clip. At least that's out of the way for the Thanksgiving break.
"Annie, what's this?" Quinn indicated a dark stone bowl that perched on a shelf above Annie's printer. Hanging above it were some small strips of twisted, clear plastic film that dipped into a pool of water in the bottom of the bowl.
"I guess you could say it's an art project. I call it "Sea of Dreams." She shut her laptop down and made her way over. "See, these streamers move in the slightest breeze, and that causes tiny ripples in the water held in the bowl.
"Three small laser pointers are aimed through the plastic and reflect off the surface of the water and on to the ceiling. It makes interesting patterns, like the surface of a pond in the wind. The lasers are powered by a sun-charged battery, so they can operate for hours into the night. There's a little electronic circuit that shuts the power off after the voltage runs down to a certain point, preventing permanent damage to the battery. Just push that button and the lasers will turn on."
"Annie," Quinn mused in the darkness, transfixed by the reflections on the ceiling as they shifted and rippled, "when did you first figure out that you wanted to be an architect?"
The tree outside the window creaked quietly, bending slightly in the night breeze.
"I was thirteen. My cousin Barry, who was I think must have been in his twenties, was visiting from California. His father had been killed when he was just a toddler, in Vietnam. He wanted to visit the Wall, the Vietnam Veteran's Memorial in Washington. I went along, not very happy about having to go, with my Dad, Mom, and Cousin Barry. I mean, a war memorial?
"But when I got there, I was amazed. It's like this big slash in the ground, like a big wound in the earth, and there's this black granite wall with names carved in it, all casualties of the Vietnam War. We searched and found Uncle Johnny's name, and Barry reached into his pocket and pulled out this really old bottle of perfume. It belonged to his mother; he had found it when he was cleaning out her house after she passed away. He put a tiny amount on his finger, and touched it to his father's name that was carved into that black stone.
"I kind of held back to give him some privacy, and I realize that people all around us were searching for names, those of their loved ones, fallen comrades, leaving notes, flowers, making rubbings on paper of all these names.
"Quinn, there were 58,195 names carved into that stone. It brought into razor sharp focus a small part of the human cost and sacrifice that was that war. I went home completely blown away by the power of that place, the way that memorial touched people. And I started reading about it. I found out that it was designed by Maya Lin, an Asian American woman, who at the time was a twenty-one year old student at Yale.
"One day, I want to design something as amazing as that."
Annie paused, a lump in her throat. "You know, her design was chosen because it was the best and because the judging was blind. Nobody knew who had submitted the design. When it became known that the winning entry was by an Asian American woman, she got shit for it. Back then, some asshole from Texas, some rich businessman running for President of the country- called her an Egg Roll. Just because of her race, she got shit despite the quality of her work."
Quinn was silent for awhile. "But in the end, the Wall was made."
"Yeah," said Annie quietly, "there is that."
They both lay quietly, watching the rippling patterns on the ceiling.
"Fucking stereotypes. Why can't people judge others by who they are instead of what they look like?"
"That was the point that Daria was making in high school, dressing the way she did," Quinn mused.
"High school," Annie said bitterly. "I never told you that I was a cheerleader, did I? The token minority chick. I lasted for half my junior year. I was thrilled when they chose me for the squad."
"Half a year? What happened?"
Annie was silent for a long time. Finally, she sat up on her bed. "You really want to know?"
Quinn could only see Annie's profile against the softly billowing curtains. She was sitting, hugging her knees, head down. "Only if you want to tell me. You don't have to if…" She stopped.
Annie was crying softly.
"I was in love, Quinn. The captain of the football team started dating me. I thought he loved me too, but he didn't. I found out when I got out of practice early one day, and I went over to wait for him by the locker room. I could hear voices that day, because one of the high windows had been left open. And I heard him bragging to his teammates about sleeping with me, how I was the best he'd had, because according to him all Asian chicks have tight pussies."
"Oh, Annie…" Quinn got off the futon and crossed over to Annie, drawing her close, letting her cry on her shoulder.
"That's all I was to him, Quinn," Annie sobbed. "I was an exotic fuck. I was so stupid, and I wanted so badly to believe that I mattered, not whatever it was that somebody wanted me to be. That just hurt like hell."
Quinn held her tight, letting her cry it out. Daria would know how to get rid of the body, I bet.
After awhile, Annie calmed down. Oddly, she began to chuckle.
Annie pulled away. "There's more to the story. Thing is, I never even slept with that asshole. Things got hot and heavy at times, but it never went that far. It was locker room bullshit. He got to brag, and I wound up something of a pariah the rest of my Junior year."
"Wait, what? How did that happen?" Usually you get even more attention when you get a reputation, valid or not.
"I avoided him until the next game, I was so pissed off at him. At halftime, he was fooling around, and he bent over and wiggled his ass at me. The other guys on the team started with the monkey hooting, and I lost it. I threw my damn pompoms on the ground and walked over to him and I kicked him hard in the balls, in front of the whole school. I was so mad I broke my toe, and managed to cave in his protective cup. That put him out of the game, and we lost."