13 | A Common Thread

JEN GAVE CELIE PERMISSION to fill Jude in on the tragic state of her romantic affairs. She wasn't someone who generally enjoyed broadcasting her personal life too much and she was particularly embarrassed by it at the present moment, but she had sufficient reasons to let him in on it.

First, foremost, and most simply – he was her friend, and friends told each other things, and she trusted him.

Secondly, explaining it all to him outright would halt his need to constantly speculate about it at work.

And finally, as her only friend who happened to be a man, he was her best hope at attempting to understand the male psyche whatsoever.

So when her phone started ringing before she even had time to get out of bed the following morning, she expected it to be Jude, come to assail her with more questions. But it was Celie. She jumped straight to her request without a prior greeting, sounding entirely too awake for this time of day. Then again, the girl did have access to astoundingly large quantities of coffee. "Can you meet me outside in fifteen?"

It took Jen's sleepy brain a second to process this. "Outside—my apartment? Are you already on your way over? I'm still in my pajamas!"

"Then you better get ready quickly," Celie said cheerfully.

Jen had hoped for a relaxing morning rendezvous with a good book and a cup of tea, but alas, the universe apparently had other plans. "This better be important," she grumbled.

"Don't worry, it definitely is."

Jen wasn't entirely convinced of that, but she got ready in a hurry nonetheless. It was a good thing she had no one to impress because she had time to either make her makeup look good or eat a bagel for breakfast, and she opted for the bagel, the last bite of which she was still shoving into her mouth as she hurried out onto the front steps.

Celie was already there waiting for her, looking suspiciously gleeful. There was a tinge of mischief in her smile that worried Jen slightly.

"Um, hi," she mumbled through the last mouthful of bagel, then swallowed it. "So, what are we doing that's so important?"

Celie wrapped an arm around Jen's shoulder, wearing a wicked grin. "We, my friend, are going revenge shopping."

"Revenge shopping?"

"Yeah, you know. Buying the hottest clothes you can get away with wearing at work so that he'll regret all his life choices as soon as he sees you."

She said this very nonchalantly, but Jen spluttered and waved her arms in a motion of protest that probably made her look like a deranged chicken. "But—revenge for what? He didn't do anything wrong-"

"He led you on with those letters and then kissed you even though he already knew perfectly well that he didn't want any sort of commitment with you," Celie protested sharply, sounding like she'd formed a much firmer, much less forgiving opinion towards Robert since last night.

But Jen was still hesitating. "I don't think it's that he didn't want it..."

She wasn't sure if she should be speaking of his desire in the past or present tense, but she could still see the conflicted expression he'd worn and hear the tension that had been there in his voice when he said, Then I suppose it wouldn't do me much good to hide that last night wasn't the first time I thought about doing that.

"I think he did...just not enough."

The thought felt like an anchor tugging her heart downwards, but Jen also couldn't help but wonder...did she want him enough? If he'd brought her to the museum to tell her that he wanted to be with her, that he was all in...would she even have said yes?

The whole situation gave her a persistent headache. Maybe it would have been easier to stay away from him if she was mad at him, but she wasn't. She wasn't entirely sure who had rejected who—he was the one who said they shouldn't date, but she was the one who in response had asked him to stay away entirely. She supposed it was a mutual rejection.

She quickly added, "But you need to understand – I wasn't behaving much better than he was, Celie. And did you forget about the fact that I work at a Catholic school? The hottest thing I can get away with is showing my ankles."

Celie appeared to have forgotten about this important detail. "Well...maybe he's into that 'modest is hottest' thing?" she offered unenthusiastically.

Jen wrinkled her nose, but the comment lured her mind back to something that was much more pleasant to think about than rejection: the look on his face when she came out of her room wearing her cute, silky dress. He'd seemed taken aback, but her recollection of the admiration she thought she saw in his eyes gave her the feeling that he wouldn't jump at the opportunity to martyr himself for the modest is hottest cause.

"Consider this part of my birthday present to you," Celie continued, tucking a stray curl behind her ear and disrupting Jen's train of thought. "I didn't get you nearly enough this year."

Jen never expected Celie to buy her anything, especially because she already gave her so much free coffee, but she appreciated the gesture nonetheless. And the reality was that she truly did need some nicer clothes for work, so by the time they had arrived at the department store, she was actually excited by the prospect of picking some things out even if she wasn't fully sold on this whole revenge thing.

She was usually very intimidated by shopping, but it turned out that she actually liked a lot of the styles that were – at least according to Celie – apparently in fashion right now (she didn't keep up with trends aside from flipping through a magazine or two on occasion when she was really bored. She was fairly certain that everyone still wanted to look like Princess Diana or Cindy Crawford, but she couldn't say for sure). As she perused the labyrinthine aisles of dresses and shirts, she silently thanked God that shoulder pads were on their way out.

Celie possessed a much more keen eye for fashion than Jen did and was able to assemble cohesive outfits out of the random jumble of assorted pieces that she grabbed off the racks. Even more fortunately, she knew Jen well enough to know that she might get overwhelmed by her options if they acquired too many, so as soon as she had put together a few solid choices, she ushered her to the dressing room to try on what they had already picked out before bombarding her with anything else.

The ladies fitting room was a bit cold and a bit dirty and reminded Jen of why she didn't have the motivation to bring herself to big stores like this very often. But as she stripped off her worn down clothes and tried on the new ones, she felt herself beginning to concede that Celie was right—when she bought clothes that fit her correctly instead of just grabbing anything at the secondhand shop that was vaguely her size, there was a lot she could do to flatter her body without technically stepping out of line. High-waisted trousers with a nice belt could define her waist and make her legs look longer, especially if she was willing to branch out of her comfort zone and pair them with heels. Blazers with deep necklines somehow gave the implication of being revealing even though she was wearing a shirt underneath; similarly, nude or black tights brought more attention to her legs despite covering them.

And none of it was out of dress code. These were all the types of garments she might see Nora wearing on any given day. Jen was beginning to realize why her boss always carried such authority—in the right outfit, she felt powerful, too.

She was also being impressively decisive until the very end. Celie had given her two blazers in an identical cut, one black and one gray, and she couldn't figure out for the life of her which one she preferred. After some frustrating and inconclusive back and forth, she settled on asking Celie for an opinion.

She emerged from her stall, still wearing the gray one and with the black one draped over her arm. Celie was there waiting for her on a cushioned bench.

"Gray or black?"

"Do you mind swapping to the black one?" Celie asked.

Jen did not, and she carefully shrugged the gray one off to replace it with the black. This did not, however, seem to be as fruitful as she hoped. Celie looked conflicted.

"The gray feels good for spring and looks really nice with your eyes, but..." she sounded a little defeated, yet shrugged. "Black is always a solid option. It's bolder, it's classy, it goes with everything, and it won't stain as easily."

Staining might not have been everyone's top priority, but as Celie's occupation happened to revolve around something that could ruin one's clothes very quickly and easily, it was never too far from the front of her mind when she was shopping. Jen clearly didn't work with coffee, but she did drink a lot of the stuff, and one quite frankly never knew what sticky situations they might run into with high schoolers.

An unexpected voice chimed in. "For what it's worth, I like the black."

Jen's heart lurched. She had not been aware that Nora was a demon or a genie or whatever in the world you could summon just by thinking about it, but she must have been, for she had materialized by the entryway to the women's fitting area seemingly out of nowhere. But it clearly wasn't out of nowhere—she was carrying two stacks of clothes, which Jen presumed were one to keep and one to return to the attendant.

Half of her wished to simply die on the spot; the other half felt a dim satisfaction that she was shopping at the same place as her boss, whose clothes always looked expensive. Like a deer caught in headlights, she rather stupidly said, "I don't see you wearing black a lot."

One of the many things about Nora that got on Jen's last nerve was that she had an excellent, excellent poker face. If the comment came across as weird, she didn't let it on.

"No, you don't," she agreed thoughtfully. "I find it usually washes me out. You have the right hair for it, though."

Jen, who had always liked Nora's blonde locks more than her own brown ones, was caught off guard by what she was moderately certain was a compliment. "Oh...thanks."

Nora looked like she wanted to say more, but after a second of thought, she gave a small, polite nod and silently retreated. Celie whirled on Jen with wide eyes the second she was out of eyeshot.

"Was that-"

"Yeah."

"Holy-"

"Yeah."

Nora, with her ethereal looks and crystalline voice and kind yet confident demeanor, was the stuff of angels. It would be virtually impossible for Jen to explain to anyone why she didn't like her, which was one of the reasons why she kept it a secret between herself and Celie.

And Nora herself, of course. She was quite aware of how Jen felt about her.

It was obvious right away that Celie was intrigued and a bit perplexed by this encounter with her. Jen tried not to let it put a damper on her mood – the girl you were jealous of giving you a compliment was a good thing, she told herself – but she sensed a discussion about it looming on the horizon like an oncoming thunderstorm.

Sure enough, as they exited the store with bags in hand, Celie quietly said, "I guess I expected her to, I dunno, have glowing red eyes and devil horns or something."

Jen allowed herself a small laugh, but it sounded stiff. "...No, no devil horns..."

Celie paused, and then tentatively asked, "Is she mean to you?"

"I suppose not, no."

She knew where this conversation was going, and she didn't like it. Now that Celie had seen Nora, she was struggling to understand why Jen didn't like her. Celie, who knew more of the story than she had ever allowed any other ears to hear.

Yet Jen couldn't deny that the interaction had put her on edge, too. Nora was being very nice, and running into Nice Nora meant that Jen was forced to stop herself and ask, Why do you hate her so much?

She sensed that Celie was on the cusp of asking the very same question, but if she did, Jen wouldn't be sure how to respond. It was something she always struggled to put words to, even just within the confines of her own thought processes. She knew why she resented Nora—that part was easy. But why couldn't she move on? That part was much harder.

It was like her soul kicked back every time she tried to find peace. Nora had even admitted to once harboring negative feelings towards Jen, but she seemed to have let them float down the river of memories and disappear into the past, into obscurity. So why couldn't Jen do the same? It was like she kept running into a barrier, a wall she couldn't get past. Maybe it was because she was still awaiting any form of true resolution...

"You're uncomfortable," she observed.

Celie shrugged but gave an admirably honest answer. "Maybe? I'm not really sure. I know it's not something that you just, you know, get over. Please don't think I'd ever believe that."

"I don't. But...my feelings would bother you less if she were the literal spawn of Satan?" Jen guessed.

"I think so," she shrugged after momentarily pausing to watch her footing on the slippery sidewalk, which was coated in a very fine sheen of ice. "I know you, Jen. I know you love supporting other women, so this just feels unlike you. Or like letting those stupid men – particularly idiotic ones, might I add – succeed in dividing us, which I know is the last thing you want. But I know you don't feel things blindly, either. You always have a reason. You're logical. You follow your brain, not your heart."

The last statement jolted Jen, not because it was true or untrue but because it sparked a connection that she hadn't made before. Ah, so that's the problem.

She just didn't know how to get out of it. She was usually good at listening to her mind. To logic. She liked formulas.

But every rule had its exceptions, and there was something that Nora Ambrose and Robert Caruso had in common–

Jenny Adler's heart wanted to chase after them, and she always failed miserably at stopping it.

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A/N:

this is low key my least favorite chapter in the book but i hope you like it more than i do lol