SSSD Halloween Epilogue Ch1

One of Alison’s dumbest moments is intertwined with one of her hotter ones. It was the day that she pledged to CCL, before the pledging itself, which had involved volunteering with Habitat for Humanity for several weeks. Habitat for Humanity wasn’t the weird part.

Intending to introduce herself to her new roommate at CCL House, Alison had knocked and then perhaps too promptly opened the door on a scene that was both odd and not especially unusual in college. In a small space crowded by two twin beds on the second floor of the creaky old CCL House, she found a girl touching herself.

By no means inexperienced, Alison had been familiar with the concept at the time. It was the visuals that gave her pause.

The person herself was hidden mostly underneath a fluffy comforter, and only her tanned legs and very pale bikini area were exposed and busy as one hand squished wetly in a swift back-and-forth over the fleshy hood of a pink clit. The feet kicked, the toes curled, and Alison remembered herself. She had cleared her throat and the hand stopped. Then it started again, a little more hesitantly.

Never one to back away from risk or fun, but still being naïve enough to think that she had something to prove to CCL, Alison had done what would be regarded as correct through the lens of pornography and asked if the person under the blanket needed help.

That was how she’d found herself seated awkwardly on the edge of a stranger’s bed, fingering the mysterious lower half of a girl whose name and face she did not know. Alison had nearly made her cum before another girl barged in. Because tragically, this hadn’t been the cliched college meet cute that Alison had dreamed of. In fact, she’d gone to the wrong room. The girl there was not the girl who lived in the room but rather was playing a prank intended for someone else entirely.

The interloper made Alison leave so she could yell at the girl under the covers. Alison had stood in the hallway, unsure what to do, with one interesting new memory and five dripping fingers.

Why is she thinking about that now? Because airports are the worst. Flying would suck bad enough even without everyone coughing and being angry. So, it’s with some relief that Alison eagerly grabs her bag and strikes out for the exit. It’s nice to be back in Florida, even if she’s jet-lagged all to hell and had too many drinks on the flight.

“Shut the front door,” she says, her bag rolling to a halt as she stops in her tracks. “Look at you!”

Ro looks amused.

They never hung out before Antarctica, so Alison never knew how Ro presented herself back then. And they don’t hang out now; they just text a lot. Antarctica was all parkas, thermal underwear, zero makeup, and mortal terror. So, it’s not like Ro has had some kind of glow-up; she’s still tiny and looks as though she’ll blow away.

But she does look cute all put together in her tall suede boots and her little brown corduroy skirt. It’s the hair; she’s grown it out and Alison’s never seen it straightened.

“Hi,” Ro says, and there’s a little blush and shyness in it, but not much. It’s been a while since they’ve seen each other in person. She seems to be standing a little straighter now.

“You look so good!”

“So do you.”

Alison snorts. She doesn’t fuck around with planes. These are the same leggings and the same hoodie she’d be wearing to flop around the cabin eating wafer cookies with crumbs everywhere.

“You’re sweet. You look amazing,” she repeats.

“Stop. Why do you sound so surprised? Did I look that bad before?”

“It was a different kind of cute. You looked like a little kid all swallowed up in your cold weather stuff.”

“Let’s talk about something else.”

“We got a ride?”

“I’m the ride,” Ro laughs, rolling her eyes. “You thought we were gonna Uber two hours?”

“It’s that far? Ugh. I repressed the memories.”

“Yeah, and we have to go like twenty miles out of the way to get to Spirit, so be ready.”

“Fuck me, dude.”

Alison follows Ro out of the airport, cringing as the muggy air hits. There is zero fall energy in this. Cold weather doesn’t have all good associations for her, but she’ll take Norway over Florida any day. At least Ro’s Bronco is more comfortable than the plane was.

Ro stoically doesn’t comment on all Alison’s exaggerated groaning and sighing as she messes around with the seat, leans it back, and puts her feet up. They weren’t especially close when it was all happening in Antarctica, but afterward, they were the only two Americans who could understand what the other had gone through. There had been a lot of long, long phone calls. A lot of complaining about their therapists, especially from Alison after she moved to Norway to shack up with Signe.

Despite the intense jealousy that Ro felt of Alison’s idyllic relationship, a friendship did form. That jealousy is gone now.

“Gonna say something about that thing on your hand?” Ro asks, keeping her eyes on the road.

“Oh, yeah.” Alison bites her lip and glances at the ring. “You’re invited.”

“You don’t sound excited.”

“I’m still mad at her. It wasn’t the most romantic proposal.”

“You said yes, though.”

“Of course I said yes. She’s so weird.”

Yes, Ro has been up lots of nights listening to Alison chatter away about how weird Signe is. Signe’s not weird. Signe’s ten years older than Alison, Norwegian, and not a moron. Alison handles herself pretty well in a crisis, but in the real world she has all this valley girl energy that Ro didn’t get to see in Antarctica. Ro enjoys it. Mostly.

“So I’m buying a plane ticket to Norway when?”

“May.”

“Congratulations. Try not to act too excited.”

“I love her. OK? I just want her to be a lumberjack sometimes, but she’s not a lumberjack. She’s a scientist. When she’s supposed to be chopping wood and flexing, she’s sitting there with her computer like squinting at PDFs. It’s bullshit. I want my money back.”

Ro grins.

Alison frowns and looks over. “What? What is that look? What is going on with you?”

Ro just takes a breath.

“I like your perfume,” she says.

( Continued )