Page 2 of Lilies in Autumn

“C, what the actual fuck?” I seethe as I use a Command strip to stick a frame to our wall. “Why did you announce that it was shaped like a penis in front of our moms? Between that and the condoms, my mother is going to think I’m fixated on dicks.”

“Ava, you are fixated on dicks.”

“I am not. I just have a vested interest in losing my virginity and finding a boyfriend before I die. These are very common goals.” She acts as though I’m consumed by the need to be dick-slapped. I’m not interested in that, at least, I don’t think I am.

CeCe’s eyes roll so aggressively, I’m surprised they didn’t get stuck. “You act like you’ve never been asked on a date or that a guy has never been into you, which is horse shit,” CeCe scoffs. “You have been propositioned and asked on more dates than any other person I know. The fact that you are disregarding that is annoying.”

“Boys don’t ask me on dates. They ask me for help, or they think they can get an easy blow job.”

“For someone so smart, you are very, very dumb. What do you think, ‘Ava, are you free for dinner?’ means?” She raises an eyebrow at me. “And before you get onto your soapbox that Matt Henderson wanted you to read over his paper, the guy was valedictorian and did not need your help reading over anything. He used it as an excuse to get you to agree to dinner.”

“Okay, that was one instance, and that hardly makes me a femme fatale like you’re implying.”

CeCe reaches under her bed to retrieve a step stool and fairy lights, wordlessly holding out one end for me to grab. “Ava, I can name a dozen similar instances, yet you always say no, or worse, friend-zone guys without even exploring the possibility. I didn’t mean to make your mom think you were obsessed with penises, but you actually kind of are.”

I hold up my end of the lights, securing them to the wall with a hook I put up earlier. “C, those guys showed interest in me because they thought I’d be an easy lay. They weren’t attracted to me, outside of my boobs.” I glance down. I have to admit, my double-D chest is an attractive feature. “I know what I look like and I don’t need a guy to make me feel like shit about it or assume I’ll spread my legs easily because of my limited offers.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” CeCe yells, throwing her end of the lights on her bed. “Cut that shit out right now. Ava, you are beautiful, and you don’t even realize how many people, guys and girls, stop and look at you. I would kill, literally kill, to have curves like yours and you condemn them like they’re evil.” CeCe’s a literature major, and she tends to be overdramatic. “You also need to let the shit that happened sophomore year go. He was an immature asshole and we dealt with him.”

“CeCe,—”

“No, don’t you ‘CeCe’ me, you beautiful asshole. I need you to listen to me.” She waits to continue until my eyes meet hers. “No matter how much I tell you that you are beautiful, inside and out, and no matter how many people ask you out, you will never accept it until you recognize your beauty and your worth. This year isn’t about guys or kissing frogs…” She pauses. “Which, by the way, why the fuck would you buy that?” She shakes her head while eyeing my box of horrors. “No, Aves, this year is about you learning to love yourself and accept yourself for the beautiful, weird goddess that you are.”

I look down, overcome by her speech. “CeCe, I know, I know. I’m working on it. Okay?”

She looks at me for a minute before letting out a sigh. “Fine, now give me a hand. I want to hang these lights before I decide to strangle you with them.” As I said, she is a bit dramatic.

Ava

It took us two hours to hang CeCe’s damn fairy lights, but the result was worth it. When we started to shop for our dorm room decor, we obsessed over Pinterest boards and social media tags; we were consumed by the need to make our space feel cozy and pretty.

I’m lucky that CeCe has the same aversion to bright colors that I do and agreed to a palette of whites, creams, and neutrals. Our twin beds, piled high with an indecent amount of pillows, look like puffy white clouds on top of the beige cowhide accent rug. Marymount University may be in New Jersey, but CeCe is a die-hard country music fan and refused to compromise on the faux animal skin.

Taking a look around the room, I can’t help but feel pride over how much we transformed our space. “C, I’m not sure how we did this, but it looks so freaking good. I’m proud of us.”

Walking up to me, CeCe throws her arm around my shoulder. “Me too, Aves. And we did it by being anal perfectionists with an online shopping addiction.”

“You’re right. You know what they say: online stores are always open.”

“No, I don’t think anyone has ever said that, except for maybe your mother.” CeCe laughs. “I get the sentiment, though.”

“Speaking of my mother, let’s send our moms pictures of the room. I’m sure they’re still seething into their wine glasses that we didn’t let them stay to finish putting everything together.”

The room, which is arguably the cleanest it will ever be all year, photographs like a catalog photo. The floral wallpaper we hot glued onto canvases gives the room extra depth, complimenting the neutral comforters and plush desk chairs we purchased. In the right corner of the room, the fake ficus tree breaks up the monochrome palette and adds extra life to the space.

Walking up to the ficus, I take more pictures to send to my mother. “Look at how good Fern looks here.”

“Ava, you realize that’s a ficus, right?”

“Yes, but it’s called irony.”

“I’m not sure that’s how it works, but whatever. Now, enough with the chit-chat, let’s go explore the campus.”

“I’m going to pretend that you didn’t just say ‘chit-chat’ like an eighty-year-old woman in a nursing home. I promise I’m going to try really hard.”

“Ava, let’s fucking go.”

Rolling my eyes, I start to follow CeCe but trip over the cowhide, just as she opens the door to the hallway.

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