You Stay Knowing How Hard You Tried

"She just needs that extra push, I think," Charlotte buzzed around with ideas. "Something to really get her to loosen up, to let her know that we're not all out to get her like this is a competition."

"But it literally is a competition," Kathryn pointed out.

"That's the kind of energy we don't need, miss bossy-pants," Charlotte shot back. "We could, I don't know...what are some fun group activities?"

"We could have her show off her gymnastics routines?" Emma offered.

"You seemed to have missed the point of a group activity," Becca quipped. "I don't know how much she'd like us just...sitting in a circle and watching her do a routine. Especially since she gets a bit hot when she's posing, or something like that."

"Circle!" Charlotte shouted, stopping the argument before it began. "Good, we could all sit in a circle and do something! What's something fun we've done in the past?"

"Ooh, I really liked it when we went swimming before!" Sara offered. "We've done that a couple times! Or some beach activities, we could do beach volleyball again, or the fire pit again..."

"Perfect!" Charlotte ran over and hugged Sara tightly.

Sara laughed, returning the hug for a moment before Charlotte released her and immediately started pacing again. “Swimming, beach volleyball, fire pit, maybe all three! We can make it a whole group day! No challenges, no points, no eliminations, no Kendra judging us. She can just...hang out with us!”

Kathryn nodded thoughtfully. “That part I agree with. If we're trying to make her comfortable, putting her in a competitive activity probably isn't ideal.”

"Yes!" Charlotte socked Kathryn lightly in the shoulder. "This is why we keep you around!"

"You all planning on leaving me behind if I stop coming out with great ideas?" Kathryn raised an eyebrow.

"Yep, sorry, your only utility to us is that beautiful mind of yours," Sara said, patting Kathryn's head quasi-condescendingly.

Kathryn swatted her hand away. "I have other utilities."

"Name three."

"I can reach things from high shelves, I can tell when people are lying, and I can..."

"Make incredibly detailed spreadsheets?" Emma suggested.

Kathryn paused. "You could've said about fifty other things that would've been more interesting, but sure. I'm a wizard at Microsoft Excel."

Charlotte threw her hands up. "See? We're already having fun!"

"You all are having fun," Kathryn corrected. "I'm being bullied by my friends."

"That's how you know you're loved," Becca said.

"Is that how it works?" Anastasia asked.

The question came from a few feet away, where she had been standing with her arms folded, watching the conversation unfold.

Everyone turned toward her.

Anastasia blinked. "What?"

"Nothing!" Charlotte immediately said, spinning around with a grin. "We were just talking about how much fun we're gonna have."

"Yes, I gathered that."

Sara stepped forward, smiling warmly at Anastasia. "We were thinking of going swimming. Maybe playing some volleyball afterward. Just hanging out, really."

"Why?"

The question was delivered so plainly that Sara paused.

"Why what?"

"Why are you doing all of this?"

Charlotte blinked. "Doing what?"

"Trying to make me comfortable."

The group fell quiet.

"You've been doing this for a while now. The invitations. The little jokes. The attempts to get me involved in conversations." She gestured vaguely toward the group. "It's all very...obvious. You all have been around each other for weeks now, trauma-bonding together. Well guess what? I have my own...situation that doesn't match any of y'all. I was brought in midway through, and you just expect me to get along famously with you all despite all of that?"

“Well,” Charlotte began after a second, her voice losing some of its usual bounce, “when you put it like that…”

“Which is accurate,” Anastasia said.

“Yes,” Kathryn replied. “It is.”

Charlotte turned toward her. “You’re supposed to help.”

“I’m helping by not lying.”

“Could you help in a slightly less Kathryn-shaped way?”

As Charlotte and Kathryn descended into another slight bickering match, Anastasia grew increasingly impatient.

"See, this is exactly what I'm talking about," she said aloud, stopping Charlotte and Kathryn's friendly banter short. "You already have this rapport with each other. I've got...nothing."

Emma, who had been unusually quiet for the past few minutes, suddenly lifted a finger.

“Okay,” she said. “I have an idea.”

“That’s usually dangerous,” Kathryn remarked.

"'Scuse you, might I remind you that it's Kendra's fault that I get stuck in those sexual situations, and they're only around Turner," Emma scoffed. "Anyways, you're right, Ana. Can I call you that?"

"Maybe?" Anastasia's face twisted.

"You're right that we have a rapport with each other that's difficult to insert somebody in," Emma continued. "So you know what? Me and you, we're going to the bar."

"Okay, and doing what?" Anastasia pressed.

"I dunno," Emma shrugged. "We'll see where the social lubricant takes us. And trust me, when I'm around, it can take some great paths. Plus, I have it on good authority that you and Turner met at a party, so you can't tell me you don't find my idea somewhat enticing."

"I went to parties to be social," Anastasia countered. "Before all of this."

"Well, can't exactly say that there'll be a large crowd there," Emma admitted. "Come on, just one drink? That's all you have to do, and then I'll leave you alone if you want."

“Just one drink?” Anastasia repeated.

“One drink,” Emma confirmed. “A completely reasonable, socially acceptable amount of alcohol.”

Anastasia looked past Emma to the group to see if somebody would bail her out of this. Suddenly, swimming, or volleyball, or whatever idea they had planned sounded immensely better than Emma's plans. Unfortunately, no such respite.

Emma started speaking again. “Look, you and I have something in common.”

Anastasia folded her arms more tightly. “Do we?”

“We both know Turner outside of this place.”

“That is not exactly an exclusive connection.”

“No, but we also both met him in social situations where he was trying to be charming and pretending he wasn’t trying to be charming.”

Anastasia’s expression shifted by the smallest possible degree.

“Oh, you know exactly what I mean.”

“I have no idea what you mean.”

“Sure.”

“I don’t.”

“Okay.”

“I don’t.”

“Then you won’t mind coming to the bar," Emma suddenly said while smiling and fluttering her eyelashes as if she was an innocent little girl.

After a few seconds, Anastasia sighed through her nose. “One drink.”

Emma’s face lit up. “Yes!”

“One drink,” Anastasia repeated. “And if you start doing anything embarrassing, I’m leaving.”

“Define embarrassing.”

“Anything you would normally do.”

“Totally easy to avoid.”

Anastasia looked toward the path leading to the plaza, then back at the group. Charlotte was watching with an expression of barely contained excitement. Sara offered her an encouraging smile. Becca had folded her arms, clearly amused. Kathryn looked as though she was mentally recording the entire interaction for later analysis.

“Fine. Let’s go.”

Emma immediately hooked her arm through Anastasia’s again.

“I said let’s go,” Anastasia said. “I didn’t say you could physically escort me.”

“Sounds like you didn't say 'let go'.”

Anastasia glanced at her. “You’re going to be a problem.”

“I hear that every day.”

The two of them started down the path toward the plaza.

Behind them, Charlotte leaned toward the others. “That went well.”

“Did it?” Kathryn asked.

“She agreed to go.”

“She agreed to one drink under the condition that Emma not embarrass her.”

Charlotte considered that. “That went…adequately.”

Sara watched Emma and Anastasia disappear around the bend. “I think Emma might actually be the best person to take her.”

"Because she's so socially graceful?" Becca asked.

"Well, maybe more than some company," Sara said, pointing a look at Kathryn. "I think her and Anastasia will find out they have a lot in common though."

Charlotte raised her hand. “Should we follow them?”

“No,” Sara and Kathryn said together.

Charlotte lowered her hand. “Okay, wow. Hostile. Just wanted to make sure things went okay.”

"Well, if we hear someone fall in the ocean soon, I think we'll figure out that it went poorly," Kathryn rolled her eyes.

---

The bartender approached with a smile. “What can I get you?”

Emma slid onto one of the stools. “Something fruity, colorful, and preferably served in a glass that makes me look like I have my life together.”

“That narrows it down to most of our menu.”

“Excellent. You know what? Surprise me.”

The bartender rolled her eyes, having heard this exact song and dance from Emma before. “And for you?”

Anastasia sat beside her, leaving a careful amount of space between them.

“Something simple,” she said. “A vodka soda.”

After the bartender left, Emma drummed her fingers on the table for a few seconds, before turning back to Anastasia. "What kind of parties did you go to?"

Anastasia lowered her glass. “You said we were just going to sit here and drink.”

“That was before I remembered that sitting quietly is one of the worst things I’m capable of.”

Anastasia sighed, but there was less irritation behind it now. “Normal parties.”

“What does that mean?”

“Probably the same ones you were going to in college.”

"And still am going to, because I still am in college, thank you very much."

"A lot of them were gymnastics mixers, or occasional frat parties," Anastasia continued. "Those were the worst."

“Were they actually that bad, or are you just saying that because you’re morally opposed to fun?”

"Oh no, they actually were that bad," Anastasia leaned against the bar. "Bunch of horny guys stuck in a house together, I stick out like a sore thumb, you know the place."

Emma nodded solemnly. "Ah, the natural habitat of the college male. Well, tell me about the worst frat party you went to."

Right as Anastasia was thinking about whether or not she wanted to answer, the bartender silently placed Emma and Anastasia's drinks in front of them. Anastasia took a long swig of the drink, as if delaying her answer.

"Well, I can tell you mine," Emma continued, momentarily ignoring the fruity concoction sitting beside her. "It was after a long shift at the campus cafeteria, a bunch of my friends were going out, and obviously I had to join them. So then I was already tired and my friends kept convincing me to take a bunch of drinks, but they all went home with guys afterwards. I was gonna call an Uber, but I never set up a payment plan on the app and didn't bring my wallet so it wouldn't get stolen. I tried asking around for a ride but people kept offering me more drinks, so I started walking back. Alone."

"Brilliant idea," Anastasia absentmindedly responded while putting down her drink.

"I know, right?" Emma laughed. "But I was young and stupid, and it worked out in the end because I'm here. It was actually Turner and Becca who saw me along the side of the road and picked me up."

Anastasia looked at her over the rim of her glass. “Turner and Becca?”

“Yep.” Emma finally picked up her drink, which was a shade of pink and had a slice of pineapple on the rim. “They were driving back from somewhere, probably a date, saw me walking along the road, and stopped.”

“Did they know you?”

“Turner did. Becca too, but not as well. I don't think we were exactly friends at that point.” Emma took a sip, then hummed. “Oh, this is good.”

"Then what?" Anastasia pressed.

Emma rested both elbows on the bar. “He didn’t make me feel stupid. That was the important part. He didn’t lecture me or ask why I’d made such a bad decision. He just waited until I stopped pretending I was fine.”

“That sounds like him,” Anastasia said.

“Yeah.”

For once, Emma looked like she had run out of gas, and both girls sat for a moment just sipping their drinks.

"He did something similar for me," Anastasia finally decided on.

"Who did what?" Emma responded, a bit startled at Anastasia's sudden statement.

"Turner," Anastasia clarified. "The only time I met him, was at a party in college. He kept me company and protected me from the mob inside."

"Protected you from the mob?" Emma continued asking, searching for something, anything from Anastasia.

"I had just met him a few minutes earlier, outside on the balcony," Anastasia continued, retelling the story as if it was yesterday. "I was thinking about leaving, but decided to stay a little longer. Then a group of the Roofie Rho guys came over."

Emma groaned, knowing all too well about the rumors that had come out of that fraternity.

Anastasia took another sip of her vodka soda. Her posture remained composed, but her fingers had tightened around the glass.

“They came over to us because Turner was standing beside me. I think they assumed he was my boyfriend, or at least someone I’d come with. They started making jokes about him being protective.”

“Which, knowing Turner, probably made him even more protective.”

“He didn’t say much at first. Just told them we were leaving.”

Emma blinked. “Just like that?”

“Just like that. One of them laughed and asked if he was my bodyguard. Another asked if he was going to carry me out of there.” Anastasia paused. “Then one of them put his hand on my shoulder, and another on my back...clearly trailing lower.”

Emma’s face hardened. “Oh, hell no.”

Anastasia gave a small, humorless smile. “That was more or less my reaction.”

“What did Turner do?”

"He moved between us. Or at least, started to, before one of the guys shoved him. The same guy who had has hand on my shoulder. The other guy's hand was still...yeah."

"On your back?"

"Worse."

"Got it. Then...what? Turner fought back?"

“Yeah, he shoved the first guy back. He didn’t throw a punch or anything; just put himself between us and told them to leave.”

“Of course.”

“One of them said that I didn’t look like I needed a bodyguard. Then he tried to get around Turner.”

Emma’s grip tightened around her glass. “And Turner?”

“He grabbed the guy's wrist. Told him to take his hands off me.”

“And did he?” Emma asked.

“After a little more arguing. The guy kept trying to make it into a joke. Turner didn’t.”

Emma nodded slowly. “Yeah. That sounds like him. He's usually pretty calm"

“Not then, he wasn't.” Anastasia’s voice had become quieter. “He wasn’t yelling. He wasn’t trying to show off. But he was...firm. Like he’d already decided how the conversation was going to end. Then...we just left."

"Just like that?"

"Just like that. He kept asking if I was alright, but I was more embarrassed than anything. I’d spent most of the night trying to convince myself I was having a good time. Then suddenly I was standing behind a man I’d met ten minutes earlier while he fought people because they wouldn’t leave me alone.”

Emma’s smile returned, gentler this time. “That’s a pretty good first impression.”

"Not a bad one," Anastasia tapped her fingers on her now-empty glass. "Then he walked me home. Er, to my dorm. I told him I didn't need an escort, but he insisted."

"Of course he did," Emma rolled her eyes. "And then...just a good night at the entrance to your building?"

"I offered him my number," Anastasia begrudgingly admitted. "He accepted, but I never called."

"What? Why?"

"After he started walking off, I heard him talking to his girlfriend on the phone. Becca, I assume."

Emma leaned closer. “This sounds like the part where you tell me he said something incredibly romantic and you decided to nobly remove yourself from the situation.”

“He was checking on her,” Anastasia said quickly. “That was all.”

“Uh-huh.”

“He’d just met me. I didn’t know him. He had a girlfriend. It would have been inappropriate.”

"What was inappropriate about that?"

"The circumstances," Anastasia hesitated, but after she saw Emma nodding at her, looking for more details, she sighed. "I was interested in him."

Emma’s grin softened into something more knowing. “Ah.”

“Not seriously. I had just met him.”

“Sure.”

“I was grateful. And impressed. And…” Anastasia made a vague motion with one hand. “It was a strange night.”

Emma took a sip of her drink. “So you didn’t call him.”

“No.”

“And you never saw him again until the show?”

“No.”

Emma considered this, then tilted her head. “Do you regret it?”

Anastasia took a breath, then glanced down the length of the bar.

“I was curious,” she admitted. “But I also knew it wouldn’t go anywhere.”

“Because of Becca?”

Anastasia studied her for a long moment. “You’re not what I expected.”

Emma grinned. “That’s what I’m going for.”

“No, I mean…” Anastasia paused, searching for the right words. “You’re more perceptive than you act.”

Emma shrugged. “If I make everything a joke, then nobody can tell when I’m worried. Or embarrassed. Or scared. And if they can’t tell, they usually don’t ask.”

“You don’t have to do that with me,” she said.

Emma blinked. “Do what?”

“Pretend everything is funny.”

Emma’s eyebrows rose.

Anastasia immediately looked uncomfortable with her own statement. “I’m not saying you have to become serious. That would be unbearable. But you don’t have to keep performing. I know firsthand how exhausting that can be."

The bartender returned with a glass of water and set it in front of Anastasia.

“I didn’t order this,” Anastasia said.

“Your friend did.”

Emma pointed at herself. “Responsible.”

Anastasia picked up her water. “You’re not going to make me drink another one, are you?”

“Not unless you want to.”

Anastasia hesitated. “I said one drink.”

“You did.”

“And I’ve had one drink.”

“Okay.”

Anastasia looked at her. “You’re not going to argue?”

Emma shrugged. “You said one drink. You made it clear. I’m not going to pressure you.”

The simplicity of the response seemed to catch Anastasia off guard.

“Thank you,” she said.

Emma waved it off. “I’m not completely terrible.”

Anastasia drank some water, then set the glass down.

“Can I ask you something?”

Emma looked over. “Sure.”

“Why did you agree to take me here?”

Emma blinked. “Because everyone else was making it weird.”

Anastasia’s brow furrowed.

“They were trying so hard,” Emma explained. “Charlotte was planning an entire festival. Sara was trying to be emotionally supportive. Kathryn was probably preparing a flowchart. Becca was pretending not to care while caring very much. And you looked like you were trying to find the nearest emergency exit. So I figured I’d take you somewhere that didn’t feel like an intervention.”

Anastasia glanced around the bar.

“Does this feel like an intervention?”

“Not to me,” Emma said. “Do you think it does?"

Anastasia looked at her. “I suppose not. You're not so bad yourself.”

Emma placed a hand over her heart. “I’m touched.”

“Don’t make me take it back.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Anastasia’s expression was serious. “You were lucky that Turner and Becca found you.”

Emma nodded. “I know. And you were lucky Turner had your back at the party.”

“He felt trustworthy enough," Anastasia said, standing up from her bar stool. "At least better than those Roofie Rho boys."

Emma pointed at her. “That was almost a laugh.”

“And...I'm out.”