Charmed Thirds_ A Jessica Darling Novel - Megan McCafferty [105]
Kieran has this adorable baby face, with pinchable apple cheeks and long, dark eyelashes that you often see on toddlers but rarely on grown men. But any physical attractiveness is totally undone by his conceited need to namecheck Descartes and Devendra Banhart when rhapsodizing about disillusion and dissolution, sense and nonsense. And yet, I usually see him surrounded by those sullen argyle girls who are burdened by the mass of their messenger bags almost as much as by the ontological weight of the world.
In short, Kieran puts the “ewww” in cute.
“William had a congenital heart defect . . . ,” I said.
“Yeah,” said ALF. “He was a Republican. He had no heart.”
Everyone laughed but me. I was shocked by the impropriety of his comment, which passes for political discourse at Columbia, one of the last dig-in-our-heels liberal strongholds our nation has left. Mini Dub and I had our differences, but he didn't deserve to die so young, regardless of his sociopolitical leanings.
Kieran noticed my silence. He put his pen-splattered hand on my shoulder.
“I want to apologize on Josh's behalf,” he said. “That was thoughtless of him to say, and it was even more thoughtless of us to laugh. Sometimes, like Rousseau, I hate the very human inclination toward insensitivity.”
Now this, this made me laugh. My laughter made everyone else laugh even harder. Everyone, that is, except Kieran.
“She's on to you, assclown,” ALF said.
And Kieran silently thumbed the white plug in his ear.
Despite their differences in appearance and personality, ALF and Kieran are good friends. I know this because we all just hung around the dorm, bullshitting and drinking beer for the rest of the night. We didn't even bother trying to hide our alcoholic indiscretions because if there's an RA around, no one seems to know who it is. It's pretty lawless.
I know from the Storytelling Project that people are inclined to reveal intimate details to people they barely know because it somehow feels more anonymous, and therefore safer, than talking to a friend or family member. It's the same principle that keeps psychotherapists in business. So it didn't take long before we got around to talking about the circumstances that brought us back to campus, instead of staying at home with our respective families. We all insisted that we had the worst parents, the worst hometown, the worst reason for being here.
“We are all in the winter of our discontent,” Kieran said.
“Shut up, assclown,” ALF said.
Of course, it turned into a competition, as most conversations here do.
Tanu is here because she told her parents over Christmas dinner that she hates biophysics—she wants to be an Urban Studies major. Her parents already have medical school funds earning interest in a 529 plan and did not take this very well.
“They said, ‘We're not paying thirty grand a year for you not to be a doctor!'”
“And what did you say?” I asked.
“Bye-bye!”
I was impressed and tried to see Tanu in a whole new light. Yes, with her dusky eyes, high cheekbones, and kohl-colored hair, Tanu could be quite pretty. Unfortunately, she's got a stampede of teeth all bodychecking each other in the race to be the first to reach the front of her mouth.
Kazuko is here because her parents sent a check for a plane ticket to Portland and she spent it elsewhere.
“What did you buy?” asked Tanu.
She thrust out her leg. “These shoes,” she said.
“And?”
“That's it.”
“You don't feel guilty?” I asked.
“If you met my parents, you wouldn't be asking me that,” she said flatly.
ALF is here because he crashed into the Tanners' backyard and can't repair his spaceship.
“Why