Page 9 of Feel Free to Scream

At home, everyone seemed to know I was the kind of girl who could write full sentences in Sindarin. Maybe because I grew up in the same small town my whole life, so they’d all tried to talked to me and realized that I was weird by the time I turned twelve. Come to think of it, my general style might sayproper young ladymore than closetStar Warsfan. But then again, Lily isn’t all that weird.

“No, I mean,majorgeeks,” she repeats, tossing me a piece of fabric.

I catch it and lift it up, unsure what I’m looking at, at first. I tilt my head.

“Is this…a cloak?” It looks familiar. Black and green, with golden panels. “Loki’s,” I say.

“Yep. Part of my genderbend Loki cosplay. Though arguably, I shouldn’t say genderbend, as Loki is canonically fluid in myths, and even Marvel got that right-ish. So, just Loki,” she concludes.

Bubbly, chatty, lovely.

“Sylvie,” I reply, remembering the name of the variant in the terrible miniseries I suffered through last year. “That’s the name of the series’ other Loki, right?

“Yeah, but she’s lame, and I’m pretending that show doesn’t exist, so just Loki,” she repeats.

I grin, handing it back to her. “It’s very well made.”

“Thanks. I sewed it myself. I’mthatkind of geek.”

“Ah. Well, I haven’t crossed over to the world of cosplay yet,” I admit. “So, I guess I lose some geek points. I’ve drawn some fanart though.”

“You have?”

It’s only fair that I show her some of my doodles after she let me see her cloak. I’m not very good, but I enjoy the creative outlet. Besides, it’s a cheap hobby now that I crossed over to digital drawing. It used to be fairly expensive, back when I used pencils and paint.

“Shut up. These are so good! Are you getting an art bachelor?” she asks, wide-eyed.

I wrinkle my nose. “Nah, accounting for me. Don’t get me wrong, Ilovedrawing. But art doesn’t immediately lead to a lucrative career.”

“I get it. I mean, I’d love to study fine art. You know, do something with my passion.” She gestures to the box she’s unpacking. “But I’m in marketing.”

I smile, glad I ended up with someone I can relate to.

“My boyfriend decided to study art. Everyone told us both it was too risky. I wish I were that courageous.”

“Nah.” She shakes her head. “I’d rather be able to afford a comfortable life, independently. Honestly, most people who have that sort ofcouragetend to come from stable, privileged backgrounds; enough to have a safety net to fall back on if their dream don’t pan out. I don’t. And this college is just too expensive to waste it on a dream.”

I take a minute to think about Noah, and his dad’s house, and the job he’s guaranteed to be able to fall back on at his uncle’s construction company. I mean, he isn’t exactly rich-rich, but he does have fairly good prospects, even if his sculpture ends up not taking off. By contrast, what I have is a grandma with no saving and a bum knee.

My mother, Hyacinth, is thirty-five, and looks and acts a lot more like an older sister. She’s done well for herself, and has a nice job in finance, in New York City. She sends presents, gift cards, and wire me cash almost every month, too, but she’s in no position to help me if I can’t support myself.

My sperm donor has never been in the picture. I never thought of it that way, but Lily’s right. What Noah truly had wasn’t courage; it was a real choice.

I don’t know how I feel about that. Jealous, mostly.

“Hey, is that a Wolverinessweatshirt?” I say, spotting the next item she unfolds.

There were a few fans of the University of Michigan’s team in my old school.

Her nose wrinkles. “Yeah, my ex’s. He was a dick, but a pretty good hockey player.” The last part, she adds somewhat reluctantly. “This is my girlfriend tax. Trust me, I earned it.”

“I wish I could steal Noah’s sweatshirts, but he never wears any. Cardigans and blazers, all the way.” I roll my eyes.

Lily makes a face, though frankly, a cardigan or blazer would look amazing with her outfit.

“So, your ex is from Michigan?” I ask, pointing to the yellow and blue logo.

“Yup. So am I. Ann Arbor, born and raised.”

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