Growth, Chapter 3

“I think it’s above freezing today,” Zoë murmured, her breath fogging up the window.

“Hallelujah.” Sarah sighed, looking up from her phone. “God, this has been ridiculous, I can’t believe they closed the warehouse. Aren’t New Englanders supposed to, like, be able to deal with snow? I can’t afford to miss more days of work.”

“I want to go outside,” Zoë said, turning. “I can’t stay cooped up in here. How’s… my hair look?”

Sarah opened her mouth, but hesitated. She sighed. “It’s pretty obvious, Zo. But I mean, you’ll probably wanna wear a hat anyway, all right? So it should be fine.” She paused. “Hey, did you manage to reschedule with Dr. Arams? Has their office opened back up yet?”

“I haven’t called yet. I’ll call today.” She put her hand flat against the window. “Stupid Nor’easter. Did you end up canceling with New Tinder Boy for tonight? I think it’s done snowing.”

“I didn’t yet but I think I might anyway?” Sarah shrugged. “I’m only sorta into this one, to be honest, and I think it’d take at least a ‘sure, why not’ to get me out into this cold.”

“You’re going to have to explain that rating system to me at some point.”

“I call it the ‘give a fuck’ system. It’s very flexible, it’s not just for answering ‘do I’, it can also do ‘will I’.” She smirked.

“Yeah? How come you never bring anybody back here, then?” Zoë turned and peered over at Sarah, hazel eyes crinkled in a smirk.

“I mean… well… I…” Sarah spluttered. She hmphed. “I haven’t met anyone I really clicked with yet is all, and anyway I’m not gonna bring some dude home when my roommate is dealing with weird medical bullshit.”

Zoë’s face fell once again as she turned back to the window. “You shouldn’t give up having a nice love life just because I’ll never have one.”

“Zoë, that’s… I didn’t mean…” Sarah swallowed. “Like, it’s not just that, all right? I mean, I know I talk a big game and all but like, there weren’t many guys to date back in Rushville? So I’m kinda, y’know. Feeling my way around here.”

The other girl remained silent for a few seconds, staring out the window of their apartment with her hand pressed against it. Then she pushed away, turned, and gripped Sarah by both shoulders. “Sarah. Go on the date tonight. For me, okay? Go on the date. See how it goes. Don’t put your life on pause for me.”

“O-okay?” Sarah blinked in surprise. “Sure? I mean, I doubt anything more will come of it than the last few Tinder Boys, but I mean, if it’d make you happy, Zo, sure, I’ll tell him we’re on.”

“It’d…” Zoë laughed, dropping her hands and looking away. “It’d make me feel a little less guilty. I know it’s kind of silly, but it’s a sign that supporting me isn’t messing up your life. Anyway if you go and it’s good, then I get to feel good about myself. If you go and it’s bad… you can yell about it to me and we’ll both laugh.”

Sarah chuckled. “It’s a deal. You’d better be awake when I come stumbling in at midnight to tell you how bad his breath smells or whatever, though.”

---

There were fifteen full seconds of fumbling with keys and muttering before the apartment door finally swung open and Sarah lurched in, steadying herself against the door jamb while she collected her balance and poured herself into the apartment. Her coat went onto a coat hook; her keys went off the side of the small table by the door and clattered to the floor. Sarah didn’t seem to notice.

Startled, Zoë looked up from her e-reader. She wasn’t wearing her hat, but had pulled on a headband to keep her thinning hair out of her eyes.

“Oh. my. god, Zoë,” Sarah slurred. “Oh my god.”

“Is that a bad oh my god or a good oh my god?” Zoë asked dubiously.

“Okay, so like. This dude shows up fifteen minutes late, right?”

“Uh-oh.” 

“But it was basically okay cause we only missed a few previews, and he was really nice about apologizing, and he picked up the tickets even though we hadn’t talked about that?”

“Oh my God, really?” Zoë’s face lit up, and age tossed her e-reader aside. “This is actually good! This is really good!”

Sarah stumbled over to the couch and leaned heavily on the back with one hand. “He didn’t,” she asserted, shaking a finger in Zoë’s direction, “look anything like his profile photo.”

“Uh, that's… bad, right?” 

“He apparently gets really self-conscious around cameras? Like, his selfie game is terrible. But Zo, he has literally the cutest smile?”

“Oh!” Zoë blinked rapidly. “It's good! It's good?” 

“It’s good!” Sarah giggled and flopped over the back of the couch, landing unceremoniously on the cushions. “Zoë, it was really good, we already made another date! And his breath didn’t smell bad even a little!”

“Aw, congratulations! Hey, since I helped get you guys together, maybe you can name one of your kids after me!” Zoë grinned. 

“Oh my god, Zo!” Sarah grabbed a pillow and threw it at her roommate, but the shot went wide. She giggled again. “He was really sweet though! And he didn’t seem put off by me not really having much… I mean, by me wanting to take things slow? Ugh, I’m blushing. Am I blushing? I think I’m blushing. Zoë, am I blushing?”

Giggling, Zoë leaned in and scrutinized Sarah's face. “Hmm. Yep, gotta say, that is a lovely blush right there.” 

“I told you!” Sarah crowed triumphantly. “Wait. What were we talking about? Oh! Right! Dave! Zo, I like him, I really like him!”

“That's so great!” Zoë replied. “I'm really happy for you!” 

Sarah’s expression suddenly turned serious and she stared intently at Zoë. “Zo, you can’t laugh, okay? You gotta promise not to laugh.”

“Okay. No laughing. Got it.”

“Promise!” Sarah insisted.

“I promise. No hang on.” Zoë giggled. “No okay now I'm ready. I promise.”

Sarah fidgeted. “I… don't know what happens now? Like. I've never had a Boy I like this much.”

“You gotta go on another date!” Zoë exclaimed. “Don’t let him get away! Hang out more!”

“Okay but like.” Sarah hesitated, then blurted out, “Zo, I got my sex ed from the Internet.”

“Good! Have you seen what it’s like when communities try to do sex ed themselves?” Zoë bumped Sarah’s shoulder with hers. “You’re at an advantage!”

“Oh my god, Zoë,” Sarah grumbled good-naturedly, bumping her roommate’s shoulder back. “Okay! Okay, I'll keep going out with him! Thanks for pushing me out of the apartment, Zo, I appreciate it.”

“That's right,” Zoë proclaimed proudly. “Call me yenta. I mean, don't. But.” 

“Yeah I’m not gonna,” Sarah said with a smirk, getting up from the couch on somewhat wavery legs. “Anyway Iiiiii’m gonna hit the hay. Sleep well when ya do, arright Zo?”

“Water first,” Zoë declared, taking her roommate's arm in hand. “Then hay.” 

“You’re terrible and I dunno why I put up with you,” Sarah grumbled, allowing herself to be led to the kitchen.

“Because I know what's best for you. Listen to your mole person roommate.” Zoë filled a large water bottle from the sink’s filter tap. “Her time in The Beneath Place has made her wise, even if her head is turning into a cauliflower.”

“Did you call Dr. Arams today?” Sarah asked, concerned again and babbling. “You gotta get those bumps looked at, Zo. I mean, I’m glad you’ve been feeling okay at least? Hey I was thinking. Do you think there might have been some mold or something on the fridge door? What if you got infected and there was something like, growing on you?”

Zoë stared, horrified, before clutching her scalp with both hands. “You think I have a parasite?” she asked, voice quavering. 

“I—I dunno!” Sarah yelped. “I just, I dunno what’s going on and my imagination runs away with me and that’s why you’re going to see the doctor!”

“Okay, okay, I'll call tomorrow! Geez, you're making me paranoid!” Zoë laughed, but her voice still wobbled. “Drink your water, Doña Juanita, and go the heck to bed.” 

Zoë glanced at her phone, whose surface displayed the time: 7:04. Her parents would be awake by now.

She picked up the phone and stared at it. She woke the phone, unlocked it, and stared at the phone screen. She took a long breath in and a longer breath out. Finally, she dialed a number by hand, too fast for the contact name to even appear, and hit the ‘call’ icon.

Four seconds passed.

“Hi, mom?” Zoë drew in another shuddering breath. “Yes, good morning. I… I have to tell you something.”