***
As irony would have it, my roommate was none other than the impossibly beautiful lover of Brynna Elohimson, the evil queen.
“Janna.” She said after I shyly asked her name, but she barely looked at me, not because she was afraid or because she was ashamed of herself (how could she ever have been ashamed of herself?), but because she truly didn’t feel like she owed me even the slightest bit of her attention. She laid down in bed, on the bottom bunk, and turned over to face the wall, resoundingly cutting herself off from any further conversation.
“Don’t mind Janna.” Illa said, more to tease Janna, I think, than to comfort me. “The nights are dark, lonely, and sad without her girlfriend or her husband.”
“Oh, shut up, you smart-assed terror.”
Illa laughed at that and caught the pillow that Janna had thrown at her. When Janna held out her hands, Illa threw the pillow back.
“I like that. ‘Smart-assed terror.’ Could you sew that onto a pillow for me?” Illa asked.
“Do not tempt me, darling.”
“She’s your… girlfriend?” I asked tentatively.
“Oh, here she goes. Janna, you must edit your answer. The Old Spirit girl is unfamiliar with homosexuality, or bisexuality, or whatever it is that you and Brynna are.”
“What does she always say?” Janna replied, “We are ‘who gives a fuck?’ and she is right. And I am sorry to tell you this, my dear, but if it is a fear of those who desire their same sex that keeps you up nights, then first of all, your life experiences must have been exceedingly dull, and secondly, you have come to the wrong place. Many women are seeing women here, many men are seeing men. Your people have consumed the outside world like a plague that executes with extreme prejudice, targeting only those who rebel in whatever ways they can. Those rebellions are oftentimes of the sexual sort, so here those rebels will be.”
“I just…” I started to say, because I didn’t want them to think that I had anything against their kind, “I just never knew that she was like that.”
“You knew who she was before she came here?”
“Yes. My mom talked about her. They were really good friends before the Fall.”
“Who was your mom?” Illa asked, and she suddenly seemed tense.
“Rachel. Rachel DiAngelo. My dad was Tom DiAngelo.”
“Oh, my…” Janna said instantaneously, and for some reason, her perfect features were suddenly contorted into an expression of worry, and her skin was suddenly several shades paler.
“What?” I asked, as I looked between the two of them. “What does that mean?”
“Yeah, really. What does that mean?” Illa asked, and when I looked at her, I saw that she and Janna were staring at each other, Illa’s eyes piercing Janna’s, and Janna suddenly looking as though she were making a concentrated effort to calm herself.
“It does not mean anything. Goodnight to you both.”
“Well, alright. Goodnight, Janna.” Illa replied.
“Wait!” I said, “It means something, and…”
“Goodnight, Grace.” Janna said, and she pulled the blanket over herself and turned away from me. Illa was turned over, facing the wall on the top bunk, and I knew that I would not be able to get anything else out of them.
Still, there was something strange.
“Janna,” I said, “I didn’t tell you my name.”