“She probably thought you were dying.”
“I wasn’t dying.’”
“How do you not do the heavy stuff?” Cath said, indignant. “Being a parent is all heavy stuff.”
“She doesn’t want to be a parent,” Wren said. “She wants me to call her ‘Laura.’”
Cath decided to start calling Laura “Mom” again in her head. Then she decided to stop calling Laura anything at all in her head.…
Wren still talked to her (She Who Would Not Be Named). She said they texted mostly and that they were friends on Facebook. Wren was okay with that amount of involvement; she seemed to think it was better than nothing and safer than everything.
Cath didn’t get it. Her brain just didn’t work that way. Her heart didn’t.
But she was done fighting with Wren about it.
Now that Cath and Wren were Cath and Wren again, Levi thought they should all be hanging out all the time. The four of them. “Did you know that Jandro’s in the Ag School?” he asked. “We’ve even had classes together.”
“Maybe we should go on lots of double dates,” Cath said, “and then we can get married on the same day in a double ceremony, in matching dresses, and the four of us will light the unity candle all at the same time.”
“Pfft,” Levi said, “I’m picking out my own dress.”
The four of them had all hung out together once or twice, incidentally. When Jandro was coming to get Wren. When Levi was coming to get Cath.
“You don’t want to hang out with Wren and me,” Cath had tried to tell him. “All we do is listen to rap music and talk about Simon.”
There were only six weeks left until The Eighth Dance came out, and Wren was more stressed out about it than Cath was. “I just don’t know how you’re going to wrap everything up,” she’d say.
“I’ve got an outline,” Cath kept telling her.
“Yeah, but you’ve got classes, too. Let me see your outline.”
Usually, they huddled over the laptop in Cath’s room. It was closer to campus.
“Don’t expect me to tell you apart,” Reagan said when this became a routine.
“I have short hair,” Wren said, “and she wears glasses.”
“Stop,” Reagan groaned, “don’t make me look at you. It’s like The Shining in here.”
Wren cocked her head and squinted. “I can’t tell if you’re being serious.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Cath said. “Ignore her.”
Reagan scowled at Cath. “Are you Zack, or are you Cody?”
Today they were in Wren’s room, just to give Reagan a break. They were sitting on Wren’s bed, the laptop resting on both their knees. Courtney was there, too, getting ready to go out; she was studying with the Sigma Chis tonight.
“You can’t kill Baz,” Wren said, pressing the down-arrow key and skimming Cath’s Carry On outline. They kept coming back to this point; Wren was adamant.
“I never thought I would kill Baz,” Cath said. “Ever. But it’s the ultimate redemption, you know? If he sacrifices himself for Simon, after all their years of fighting, after this one precious year of love … it makes everything they’ve been through together that much sweeter.”
“I’ll have to kill you if you kill Baz,” Wren said. “And I’ll be first in a long line.”
“I totally think Basil’s going to die in the last movie,” Courtney said, putting on her jacket. “Simon has to kill him—he’s a vampire.”
“He’ll have to die in the last book first,” Cath said. She still couldn’t tell whether Courtney was actually stupid or whether she just couldn’t be bothered to think before she talked. Wren shook her head at Cath and rolled her eyes, like, Don’t waste your time with her.
“Don’t work too hard, ladies,” Courtney said, waving on her way out. Only Cath waved back.
Something had happened between Wren and Courtney. Cath wasn’t sure if it was the emergency room or something else. They were still friends; they still ate lunch together. But even small things seemed to irritate Wren—the way Courtney wore heels with jeans, or the way she thought “boughten” was the past participle of “bought.” Cath had tried to ask about it, but Wren always shrugged her off.
“She’s wrong,” Cath said now. “I don’t think GTL could ever kill off Baz.”
“And you can’t either,” Wren said.
“But it makes him the ultimate romantic hero. Think of Tony in West Side Story or Jack in Titanic—or Jesus.”
“That’s horseshit,” Wren said.
Cath giggled. “Horseshit?”
Wren elbowed her. “Yes. The ultimate act of heroism shouldn’t be death. You’re always saying you want to give Baz the stories he deserves. To rescue him from Gemma—”
“I just don’t think she realizes his potential as a character,” Cath said.
“So you’re going to kill him off? Isn’t the best revenge supposed to be a life well-lived? The punk-rock way to end Carry On would be to let Baz and Simon live happily ever after.”