Parallel Infinities

  *****

  Rosetta was taken by surprise that night when a sharp knock sounded from her front door. Upon opening it, she saw Lily standing there, clad in a neon-pink hoodie, light gray sweatpants, and fuzzy socks that were designed to look like panda paws—the same socks she had worn to every one of their sleepovers during their angst-filled, brutal teenage years, Rosetta noted. An enormous comforter was tucked under one of her arms, and three oversized pillows were being clutched precariously by the other. Standing beside her was a girl Rosetta did not recognize, but had a hip, punk-like hairstyle that was similar to Lily's, featuring flashes of bright colors in the midst of hair that was dyed black but gave itself away with soft blonde roots. She was even a few inches shorter than Lily and was built with a delicate, petite frame.

  "Thanks for the ride, Britt," Lily said cheerfully. "I'd wave g'bye, but my hands are kind of...”

  The unfamiliar girl laughed; she sounded a little like a chipmunk when she did, but not in an obnoxious way. "Don't sweat it," she replied. "Bye, Lily!" Then she swaggered away with a sashay of her hips and a flip of her hair.

  Lily locked eyes with Rosetta. "Heya, stranger! You would not believe the night I've had," she said with a roll of her eyes that was both exasperated and amused. "Parties, food, dancing, more food..."

  "You did all that, wearing that?" Rosetta did not mean to sound condescending; it was just so uncharacteristic of Lily to spend a night on the town in anything less than one of the chicest outfits in her closet. It was only until after the words came out that she noticed just how done-up Lily's face was: her eyelids had been adorned with the colors of smoky-gray eyeshadow, winged eyeliner, and a thick coat of mascara. Her cheeks were colored pink, and her lips were a brilliant magenta that nearly put the exuberant shade of her hoodie to shame.

  "I brought a change of clothes," Lily explained with a dismissive wave of her hand. "You're one to talk about dressing down, anyway," she added.

  Rosetta glanced bashfully down at the satiny pajamas that she had now worn for nearly thirty-six hours. "I wasn't expecting you!" was all she could think to say. The smile Lily adorned, brighter than a newborn sun appearing in a planet's sky for the first time, did not so much as falter.

  "That much is obvious, Sweetie," Lily clicked her tongue disapprovingly. Rosetta knew she was not being judgmental, and Rosetta did not feel as if she were being judged. Instead, she felt as if she had been caught red-handed in the act of a lazy day, standing there in unwashed clothes with a belly full of the ice cream she had given into just a few moments earlier. "You said you were okay."

  Rosetta was not sure if Lily felt betrayed or not. She hoped it was ‘or not.’ "I am," Rosetta promised. "It was just a really long night, Lily, I promise that's all." She stepped out of the doorway so Lily could enter, and the second she did so, Lily hustled to the living room and dumped all the comfort objects in her arms onto the couch.

  "A long night, huh?" Lily snarked, obviously unconvinced. "It's Luka, isn't it?" She proceeded to arrange the blanket and pillows into a cozy-looking nest of warmth. Lily took a seat on one of the cushions and patted the one beside her to invite Rosetta over.

  "I guess," Rosetta admitted, curling up beside her friend and pulling the heavy blanket Lily had provided over them both. She pulled her long legs up and hugged them against her chest, taking care to make sure the blanket did not lose its grip around her shoulder. "It's really complicated. I don't really want to talk about it."

  "That's cool," Lily said, a playful glimmer flickering in her eye, "because I don't really want to, either." Lily laughed at Rosetta's surprised expression. Rosetta could not be blamed for being taken off-guard; Lily almost always prodded her to admit her thoughts and feelings, because she claimed it was better to let things out than keep them cooped up inside her chest. In fact, Rosetta had just begun to agree and was almost ready to treat the innards of her emotions like the little gold finch chirping sleepily in the corner of the room, setting them free when they wanted to be and not forcing them to stay caged and weigh her down. "Look, I'm a firm believer in talking being cathartic, and you know I'd be totally cool with letting you vent, but here's the thing: I'm the worst person to come to advice for, because we see romance totally differently. You see commitment. I see a short, intense fling and a good story for a future dinner party. You know what I mean? For you, everything is going somewhere, and everything means something really important. For me, romance is a series of isolated circumstances—mistakes, maybe—where life is hot and fierce and fiery, but it doesn't really touch the rest of what I do. For you, it's all interconnected. Your life is beautiful that way, you know? Everything is connected to everything, in one obscure way or another. It's this epic patchwork of hurt and healing, and romance got sewn in right in the middle of everything else when Luka came along."

  Rosetta nodded to show that she was following Lily's point. "That makes sense, I guess," she said. Luka had undoubtedly become an aspect of her life that felt just as important as the rest, despite the fact that she had never touched him, had never held him, had been sewing him into her life with nothing but a silver cord that she could not even see when she was awake.

  "Of course it does, I'm the one that said it!" Lily teased, giving Rosetta a jab to the side. "Anyway, the point is, I can't tell you what the right choice is. Nobody can decide that but you, because I think you're the only one that can make any sense of life at all, not to mention your own relationship."

  Rosetta's lips quirked downward. She did not feel like she had made much sense out of life. She had just attempted to come to terms with the fact that life was nonsensical and nebulous, surging far past the simplicity that the word "timeline" would suggest. There was no straight path, there were no easy answers, there was chaos. Maddening chaos. Agonizing chaos. And, somewhere among the pain, stardust, and the legends emblazoned on the breastplates of those who lived through the worst life had to offer, there was beautiful chaos. But the look of respect on Lily's face urged her to avoid contradicting what Lily clearly believed.

  "Here's what I can tell you, though," Lily continued. "Whether I believe in this astral whatnot or I don’t, I do believe that what you feel is real, okay? And no matter what happens, I promise I'm going to support you through it. You could choose to ditch this guy tomorrow, and I'll be here with a playlist of empowering songs and buckets of ice cream to get him out of your head. Or, you can stay with him forever, and, if he's everything you think he is, I humbly accept the incredible position as your maid of honor."

  "Lily!" Rosetta scoffed chidingly, rolling her eyes. "No one is talking about marriage yet. Besides, Rachel might want to fight you for that spot." Rosetta laughed a bit at the thought of Rachel and Lily heatedly debating who gets to stand beside her when she is adorned with a veil, meant to symbolize her resolve, over her face, flowers, meant to symbolize the fragility and beauty of a tender life, in her hands, and the light of the stars, meant to symbolize all the things she wants to say but does not have the words, in her eyes.

  "We can share," Lily shrugged nonchalantly. "Or, we can fight, if she wants. I've got some serious muscle after mooching off Darren's gym membership. Anyway, you get the point! Whatever happens, I've got your back," she concluded with a smile.

  "Did you come all the way here tonight just to tell me that?" Rosetta asked lightheartedly.

  "That, and there's a cheesy sci-fi movie marathon tonight on a channel even you have," Lily explained, reaching for the remote for the cheap television that sat silently in the corner. "Plus, I knew you were lying when you said you were fine, so my best friend instincts would not rest until I came and knocked some sense into you. Nicely, I mean, I'm not going to clobber you over the head or something. Maybe hugged some sense into you."

  Rosetta would have laughed, had she not been so stunned by Lily's earlier statement. "How did you know I was lying?" I didn't even know I was lying, she thought. I really thought I was fine. And then, I spent the whole day in my pajamas,
her thoughts admitted with great vindication.

  "Because that's what you always say," Lily said, "and it can't always be true." With that, she turned the television on and flipped through a few channels before finding the one she wanted. The electronic glow of the aliens, people, and spaceships on the screen filled the room and illuminated their faces. There was something beautiful about it—explosive color and light from stories that were just as moving as they were untrue, spewing into the room and filling their minds with affection for characters that were nothing more than figureheads of some greater, deeper meaning.

  "Lily?"

  "Yeah?"

  "Thanks."

  "Don't mention it," Lily said, pulling Rosetta into a hug. For a very brief period of time after that, it was as if the whole world was a blank slate and there was nothing but Rosetta and her closest friend in that one room, no other stories than the ones the television screen told, no pain too great that it could not be fixed by a dramatic monologue and a kiss shared as sparks flew from the crumbling structure around the pair of lovers, nothing but the simple, disconnected plots and arcs and resolutions. For a very brief moment, life itself felt simple. For a very brief moment, everything was okay.

  Then the moment ended.