Page 6 of Yolo


  Maddie! double whoa!

  zoegirl:

  but don’t you have to be 21 to gamble?

  mad maddie:

  ah, technically. it didn’t seem to be a problem.

  zoegirl:

  did they check IDs? was there a bouncer or something?

  mad maddie:

  do you want me to be retroactively busted? fine, I’ll go turn myself in.

  zoegirl:

  no—sorry sorry sorry. you’re getting your Maddie-ness back, just like I’m getting my Zoeness back. forgive my Good Girl nail-biting?

  mad maddie:

  sure, kid. *ruffles Zoe’s hair*

  mad maddie:

  anywayz, I walked away a hundred bucks richer, while Zara came out sixty dollars short, not that I’m gloating.

  mad maddie:

  well, maybe I am. but Zo?

  zoegirl:

  yeah?

  mad maddie:

  we did it, sweet cheeks. we rock!

  Sat, Sept 28, 2:05 PM E.D.T.

  SnowAngel:

  ow. ow. ow-ow-ow.

  SnowAngel:

  it hurts to even type! don’t you care?

  zoegirl:

  you haven’t given me time to care!

  zoegirl:

  what’s wrong? do you have a hangover?

  SnowAngel:

  no!

  SnowAngel:

  yes.

  SnowAngel:

  but that’s not why I’m in the HOSPITAL.

  zoegirl:

  you’re in the hospital?

  zoegirl:

  omigosh, why? are you ok? what happened???

  SnowAngel:

  *lifts chin and looks proudly into distance* yeah, sure, *now* yr all concerned.

  zoegirl:

  “proudly”?

  SnowAngel:

  yeah, as soon as I hit “send,” I realized that didn’t sound right.

  SnowAngel:

  not proud as in, “ooo, I got an A!”

  SnowAngel:

  proud like Scarlett O’Hara when she vows never again to wear curtains or eat carrots. you know. she presses the back of her hand to her forehead and gazes off bravely, and her hair is windblown, and she’s like, “no, no, don’t feel sorry for me! I can take care of myself!”

  zoegirl:

  Scarlett O’Hara never vowed to stop eating carrots, sweetie.

  zoegirl:

  are you really in the hospital???

  SnowAngel:

  trivia question: do you know what the tongue of a belt is? trivia answer: it’s the sticky-uppy part of the buckle, the metal prong-thing that you poke thru the belt hole.

  SnowAngel:

  only instead of sticking thru the hole in my belt, the tongue in question is sticking thru. my. foot.

  SnowAngel:

  my foot! waaaaaaaaaaaah! and it’s STILL THERE!

  zoegirl:

  crap, are you kidding me?

  SnowAngel:

  I’m not, and it’s sticking ALL THE WAY thru my foot, and I cld touch the end of it if I wanted to. believe me, I don’t.

  zoegirl:

  I’m confused. snap me a pic.

  SnowAngel:

  but . . . but . . . that means sitting up, which means moving . . .

  SnowAngel:

  owwieeeee!!!

  SnowAngel:

  ok, hold on . . .

  zoegirl:

  omfg! Angela! you have a BELT stuck in yr foot!

  SnowAngel:

  told ya

  zoegirl:

  would you please EXPLAIN?

  zoegirl:

  holy frick, that looks so insanely painful.

  SnowAngel:

  it is. now I know how Jesus felt.

  zoegirl:

  and you’re texting me while it’s still in there? just calmly texting away?

  SnowAngel:

  not supposed to use cells in ER, so can’t call.

  SnowAngel:

  and I’m at hospital AND on drugs, per yr question above.

  SnowAngel:

  don’t misunderstand. I am still barely holding on to the strings of life and will require much pampering for days on end. but how cld I not txt my Zoe?

  zoegirl:

  sheesh, Angela. my foot is hurting for you. and also, normal ppl do not end up with belts stuck through their feet.

  zoegirl:

  how did this happen?

  SnowAngel:

  well, last night was the date party, remember?

  zoegirl:

  your date ditched you and you kissed a random guy whose name you don’t know. yes, I remember.

  SnowAngel:

  I kissed a random guy? really?

  zoegirl:

  omg. go back and read your texts from last night.

  SnowAngel:

  huh. intriguing.

  SnowAngel:

  well, I do have this hazy impression that I drank kind of a lot, so I crashed as soon as I got back to my dorm room.

  zoegirl:

  so you got drunk. you went straight to bed. and???

  SnowAngel:

  whoazy there. never said *straight* to bed. I got undressed first (I do that sometimes ), only I was so wiped that I left my jeans and shirt on the floor.

  SnowAngel:

  and then in the middle of the night I had to pee, so I stumbled out of bed, only it was dark . . .

  SnowAngel:

  so yeah, I stepped on the clump of clothes, and I guess the tongue of my belt was sticking straight up, cuz it went clean thru my foot.

  zoegirl:

  OW! ow ow ow!

  SnowAngel:

  the RA on my hall called an . it was exciting.

  zoegirl:

  and again, here you are texting merrily away with a belt dangling from your foot.

  SnowAngel:

  Vicodin is my new best friend.

  zoegirl:

  why haven’t they taken it out yet? why haven’t YOU taken it out yet? can’t you just give it a good hard yank?

  SnowAngel:

  apparently my foot muscles have tightened up around the tongue, so no.

  SnowAngel:

  not *my* tongue. that wld be weird. the belt’s tongue.

  zoegirl:

  riiiiiight. which isn’t weird at all.

  SnowAngel:

  they’re going to shoot a muscle relaxant straight into my tootsie to make my muscles relax, but first they had to call my parents or something. plus there was a kid in front of me with RAT-BITE FEVER. *shudders*

  SnowAngel:

  but maybe it’s finally my turn, cuz a guy in scrubs is heading my way. mwah!

  Mon, Sept 30, 3:30 PM P.D.T.

  mad maddie:

  I just spent the last TWO HOURS Skyping with Angela. am I such a good friend or what?

  zoegirl:

  is she still loopy?

  mad maddie:

  ohhhhh yeah. she kept making her crutches talk to me. as far as puppet shows go, it left much to be desired.

  zoegirl:

  she is so funny about those crutches. she’s so proud of them! how many selfies did she post on Instagram of her and her crutches? twenty? thirty?

  mad maddie:

  dude, she has a hole in her foot. I think she’s earned the privilege.

  zoegirl:

  yes. true. oh, and I sent her some chocolates from both of us, just so you’re in the loop.

  mad maddie:

  excellent idea. thx.

  zoegirl:

  hey, I’m meeting Holly and Gannon in half an hour, or maybe just Holly if Gannon hasn’t gotten far enough on his history paper. (omg, workload here is crazy!)

  zoegirl:

  and guess what else? yesterday I went to the student center with the two of them and watched a Japanese movie called “My Neighbor Totoro,” which made me cry.

  mad maddie:

  aw

  zoegirl:

  Holly’s good about finding off-the-beaten-track s
orts of things to do. it’s cool.

  zoegirl:

  I feel so much better about myself, and just plain happier, now that I’m getting out and doing stuff—so thanks for making me.

  zoegirl:

  what about you? do you have plans?

  mad maddie:

  um, it’s Monday, the most boring day of the week. do I need plans?

  zoegirl:

  I read yr tweet about how you haven’t left your room except to go to class, that’s all.

  mad maddie:

  ahhh, yr worried I’m a big fat loser. gotcha.

  zoegirl:

  ha ha

  zoegirl:

  I’m just hoping things are still going well with Zara and the Esbees, cuz I also read your earlier tweet, which was funny but also sad.

  zoegirl:

  who said you looked like death?

  mad maddie:

  Neesa, but I’m sure she meant it in a kind way. plus, I tweet for effect, you know that.

  zoegirl:

  “You look like death, but I mean it in a kind way”???

  mad maddie:

  humor! it is called humor! and she was right. I did. it happens, ok?

  mad maddie:

  however, altho I *was* in my dorm room for most of the day, I am now sitting in the parking lot of Roller Land, looking Very Stylish in shorts and knee-highs. my hair is even in pigtails, and I’ve gotta go, chickie. time to clock in for the roller derby jam I signed up for.

  zoegirl:

  roller derby jam?

  mad maddie:

  Zara begged me to. they needed a fifth skater cuz Taylor—one of the Esbees—wimped out.

  zoegirl:

  you, on a roller derby team. omg, that is so perfect. you will ROCK it, Mads.

  mad maddie:

  course I will. it’s all about grabbing life by the horns, right? I am a girl of my word.

  zoegirl:

  you are my hero. I am in awe.

  zoegirl:

  what’s the right way to say good luck to someone before a roller derby? it can’t be “break a leg” . . .

  mad maddie:

  how about “knock ’em dead, tiger!”

  zoegirl:

  knock ’em dead, tiger!

  Tues, Oct 1, 5:43 PM E.D.T.

  SnowAngel:

  Zoe! shhhh! *holds finger to lips*

  SnowAngel:

  (whisper voice) there’s a dumpster behind our dorm, and guess who I just saw walking mysteriously toward it and then mysteriously away from it?

  zoegirl:

  I don’t know! (why are we whispering?)

  SnowAngel:

  so that nobody hears us, silly!

  SnowAngel:

  IT WAS LUCY. my roommate was mysteriously lurking around the dumpster, and I must know why!

  zoegirl:

  maybe she was throwing away trash?

  SnowAngel:

  *snorts*

  SnowAngel:

  that’s cute, Zo, but I saw no trash bag swinging casually from her hand.

  SnowAngel:

  also she was whistling a merry little tune. who whistles merry little tunes when she takes out her trash?

  zoegirl:

  how do you know she was whistling a merry little—

  zoegirl:

  wait a sec. Angela? if you were close enough to hear Lucy’s merry little tune . . . are *you* lurking around the dumpster?

  SnowAngel:

  no, I’m watching from my dorm room window.

  zoegirl:

  then why are we whispering? ARE we still whispering?

  zoegirl:

  and how could you have heard Lucy’s merry little tune from your dorm room window?

  SnowAngel:

  maybe I have extraordinary powers of hearing. did you think of that?

  SnowAngel:

  her mouth was pursed in an “O” shape and she was, like, nodding her head in a merry tune sort of way.

  zoegirl:

  wait a second. you are NOT in your dorm room, you liar! three minutes ago you updated your FB status to “soaking in the warm fall sun.” you just want me to think you’re in your dorm room so I don’t yell at you for not taking care of your broken foot!

  SnowAngel:

  perforated, not broken. and I’m using my crutches, so I am so taking care of my foot.

  zoegirl:

  you’re only supposed to use your crutches when you have to. otherwise you’re supposed to rest!

  SnowAngel:

  I’ll rest when I die.

  SnowAngel:

  anyway, I like my crutches. they make ppl do things for me. and I’m not in my dorm room. fine. but I’m sitting down, which means I’m not standing on my perforated foot, so hush.

  zoegirl:

  wait. huh? where are you then? are you behind the dumpster too?

  SnowAngel:

  dude, you’re complicating things unnecessarily.

  zoegirl:

  *I* am? *I’m* complicating things unnecessarily???

  SnowAngel:

  I was coming back from a meeting with my biz prof. as suspected, she didn’t like my first business plan proposal, so she made me come up with a better idea. one that has to do with utility instead of goods.

  SnowAngel:

  do you know what that means?

  zoegirl:

  no. do you?

  SnowAngel:

  it means I shld capitalize on my capacity to be useful to others. it means I’ll be providing a service instead of a product, which is lucky, since cute bra straps are easy to talk about but hard to make.

  zoegirl:

  you sound so smart, Angela. I love it.

  zoegirl:

  does this mean you’re actually liking your business class now?

  SnowAngel:

  let’s not go that far.

  SnowAngel:

  let’s just say it’s kinda sorta *maybe* more interesting than I first thought.

  SnowAngel:

  and I don’t hate my prof quite so much anymore either. not that I ever HATED her, but let’s just say her sensible shoes no longer bother me as much as they shld.

  zoegirl:

  gasp!

  SnowAngel:

  I know, right? anyway, she says I have ingenuity, which is crucial if you want to be an entrepreneur. it made me feel good.

  zoegirl:

  awww

  SnowAngel:

  so. was hobbling from prof’s office back to my dorm room, and that’s when I spotted Lucy. as I am a curious sort, I hid in a sunny spot by the dumpster to see what she was up to.

  SnowAngel:

  she’s gone now, but I’m happy here, so . . . *shrugs*

  SnowAngel:

  also I’m hiding from my sorority sisters until dinner is over.

  zoegirl:

  why?

  SnowAngel:

  cuz the pledges aren’t allowed to eat anything but white bread and American cheese sandwiches for an entire week. I’m only one day in, and . . . yeah. not working for me.

  zoegirl:

  is this another hazing-that-isn’t-hazing ritual?

  SnowAngel:

  I assumed it wld turn out to be fake, just like the bikini/Jell-O shot night. I assumed that when we showed up at the Zeta house this morning, there’d be a fabulous breakfast buffet waiting for us.

  zoegirl:

  but no?

  SnowAngel:

  but no. just packs of cellophane-wrapped sandwiches. each pledge gets six a day: two for breakfast, two for lunch, two for dinner.

  zoegirl:

  disgusting

  SnowAngel:

  yeah, so I ordered chicken fingers, fried dill pickles, and a steak from the Blind Pig Tavern. plus peanut butter pie. plus a 32 oz Diet Coke.

  SnowAngel:

  they don’t normally deliver, but I sweet-talked the guy who took my order into making an exception.

  zoegirl:

  where is he going to deliver it TO?
the sunny spot behind the dumpster?

  SnowAngel:

  NEAR the dumpster, and yeah. I said to look for the girl in the sparkly tank top with crutches.

  zoegirl:

  two things: 1) drop out of your sorority, and 2) I’m glad you ordered some real food, but you need to eat a fruit or vegetable!

  SnowAngel:

  yr so funny. a pickle IS a vegetable, silly!

  Tues, Oct 1, 6:17 PM E.D.T.

  SnowAngel:

  oh, there’s something else I wanted to tell u!

  SnowAngel:

  actually two things.

  SnowAngel: