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huahsu · 7 years

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YEAR OF WHAT HAPPENS ON EARTH STAYS ON EARTH

[longer version of what I contributed to the new yorker’s year-end package. you can read that here, and listen to the accompanying megamix the video team made! links to previous year’s lists at bottom.] I did not grow up going to church, and I am not a particularly religious person. A few days after the inauguration, I wandered into a nearby church and took a seat in the back pews. I’d gone there right after the election. There was some time for anyone with anything on their mind to stand up and speak. If you need others to pray for you, just let us know. A middle-aged black man in a leather jacket got up and began telling us about an argument he was having with a friend on Facebook. It was about the election, but it was actually about the intractability of racism. He was getting frustrated while describing it to us, in part because he seemed to value being the cool and level-headed one. Plus he was describing the kind of argument millions of people were having on the Internet. “I just hope he finds peace,” the guy said. He paused, then put his hands on his chest. “On a lighter note, today would have been Jimi Hendrix’s seventy-fourth birthday.” He opened up his leather jacket to show everyone his Hendrix t-shirt. “I just wanted to say that, because he was just awesome.” So I returned here, the day after marching through Manhattan with a poster that said “HOLD ON, BE STRONG.” I needed to be in a room that was powered by something other than hate--to be reminded of vision and purpose, even if they weren’t mine to claim. To listen to wisdom gleaned from a book I’ve never read, and pick and choose what I wanted. To hear others pour themselves into songs I never, ever sing along to. I wanted to steal their vibes. Instead of a hymn, they passed out small pieces of paper with the lyrics of John Lennon’s “Imagine.” This is not the type of church people come to for the music. The pianist started playing, and I remember thinking about how it felt like magic when I learned how to play those chords as a kid. I couldn’t believe we were doing this. We sang, tentatively at first, as though we could not believe these words in this space. Picture it: singing of “no heaven” and “no religion, too,” with humility and hope, inside a house of worship. It was like an admission that faith was inadequate. All we had was one another. “Imagine” is a song I’ve heard millions of times, the type of song that is so ubiquitous that we rarely bother scrutinizing its words, its vantage point, the possibility that someone wrote these words because he actually believed them. I sang along with a room of strangers, and we looked at one another, and, for the first time in months, I began to cry. TWO LYRICS THAT REMINDED ME OF POLITICS EVEN IF THEY HAD NOTHING TO DO WITH POLITICS "Wrote this shit January 21″ “Take me back to November / Take me back to November” “I’M AN ANGRY TEENAGER” Novelist, “Street Politician” ONCE THEY START, I HAVE TO LISTEN TO THE END Jim O’Rourke’s recently unearthed cover of Tracy Chapman’s “Fast Car” Kanye’s sitcom-length remix of “Bed” THURSDAY NIGHTS ON NBC Ross from Friends’ very Madchester guitar-y Boiler Room set DJ Seinfeld, Time Spent Away from U Nino Man, Jadakiss and Styles P, “Friends”

IN ANOTHER YEAR FULL OF NIRVANA/KURT COBAIN REFERENCES (DID YOU SEE JAY:Z’S JACKET?) MY FAVORITE SONG, PROBABLY: this Trippie Redd snippet

SOME VERSIONS OF THE NINETIES THAT WILL NEVER COME BACK THE WAY GRUNGE ENNUI HAS, BUT WERE SO POSSIBILITY-RICH TO ME BACK THEN Kicking Giant, This Being the Ballad of Kicking Giant, Halo: NYC/Olympia 1989-1993 Helium, The Dirt of Luck/The Magic City LIKE MANY WHO LOVED “A STORM IN HEAVEN,” I OVERLOOKED THEM AT THE TIME Acetone, 1992-2001 A REALLY GOOD BOOK ABOUT ACETONE, LOS ANGELES, DREAMS OF GREATNESS Sam Sweet, Hadley Lee Lightcap WOULD HAVE LOVED THIS IN 1994, 2002 OR 2017 Big Thief, Capacity CREDIBLE AND DOPE EARLY NINETIES R&B HOMAGE, SAX AND ALL Joyce Wrice, “Good Morning” SPEAKING OF THE NINETIES, LEECH MADE A MIXTAPE OF JUST THE FLOATY/DREAMY PARTS TAKEN FROM CLASSIC GOOD LOOKING/MOVING SHADOW SINGLES Leech, “Just the Liquid” FOR THE COMEDOWN, DARK-ASS STUFF ASSEMBLED EXCLUSIVELY FROM SLIPKNOT SAMPLES Croww, Prosthetics NOSTALGIA, ULTRA (UK GARAGE/BASSLINE EDITION) tqd, ukg SUMMERTIME ‘SECOND SUMMER OF LOVE’ VIBE Opus III, “It’s a Fine Day (Burt Fox remix)” UNEXPECTED BURIAL SUMMERTIME VIBES Monic, “Deep Summer (Burial remix)” NO REISSUE OR tk ANNIVERSARY TIE-IN, JUST SOME OLD SONGS I RE/DISCOVERED THIS YEAR Active Minds, “Hobson’s Choice” El-B, “El-Brand” Kamal Abdul Alim, “Brotherhood” Spiritualized in Reykjavik U2, “Numb (Soul Assassins remix)” U2, “Mysterious Ways (Massive Attack remix)”

SAME, BUT TAIWANESE INDIE ROCK EDITION Chocolate Tiger, “Piecing Together” REISSUES, OR: PEOPLE HAVE ALWAYS BEEN WEIRD AND SPACY#, OBSESSED WITH NATURAL BEAUTY## # Planetary Peace, Synthesis # Pauline Anna Strom, Trans-Millennia Music ## Pep Llopis, Poiemusia La Nau Dels Argonaut REISSUES, OR: WHEN I WAS A CHILD THERE WERE NO BETTER SONGS THAN THE ONES THAT PLAYED THROUGH TRANSFORMERS: THE MOVIE AND FOR SOME REASON THIS JOYOUS EP REMIND ME OF THAT SHEEN, THOSE HOOKS, THE PERFECT, THEATER-SIZED ECHO Om Alec Khaoli, Say You Love Me BEST ALBUM-LENGTH METAPHOR FOR THE CITY, ITS LIMITATIONS AND POSSIBILITIES Wiki, No Mountains In Manhattan SOUNDS EXACTLY LIKE IT WAS DESCRIBED, JAMAICA VIA OUTER SPACE Equiknoxx, Colon Man I NEED TO GO OUT MORE Jex Opolis, “Mt. Belzoni” KH, “Question”

I LISTENED TO THIS ABOUT TEN TIMES, MY SENSE OF ENCHANTMENT GROWING AND GROWING EACH TIME, BEFORE REALIZING THERE WERE BARELY ANY DRUMS ON IT Mr. Mitch, Devout SERIOUSLY THE MR. MITCH ALBUM WAS REALLY MOVING AND FANTASTIC Mr. Mitch f/ Denai Moore, “Fate” CRAZY WISDOM MASTER Vince Staples, Big Fish Theory C’MON AND RAISE UP Rapsody f/ Kendrick, Lance Skiiwalker, “Power” SO ICEY Zomby, Mercury’s Rainbow ECHO PARTY Demen, Nektyr Evy Jane, “Give Me Love” THE IMPORTANCE OF BEING EARNEST Vic Mensa, The Autobiography DUNGEON FAMILY, EVEN IN DARKNESS Earthgang f/ J.I.D., “Meditate” FUNNY HOW TIME SLIPS AWAY Lee Gamble, Mnestic Pressure Pessimist, s/t NOT SURE HOW THIS BECAME THE DIWALI OF 2017 BUT OKAY French Montana f/ Mariah, Rae Sremmurd, PNB Rock, Belly, Elephant Man, Vybz Kartel, J Balvin, NORE, Wizkid, “Unforgettable” HOW ARE THIS MANY PEOPLE ON A FOUR MINUTE SONG? GOOD VIDEO THOUGH A$AP Mob f/ A$AP Rocky, Playboi Carti, Quavo, Lil Uzi Vert and Frank Ocean, “RAF” I LIKE IT WHEN FERG’S VOICE GETS ALL NAGGY Ferg, “Plain Jane” METRO BOOMIN MADE A BEAT THAT REMINDED ME OF RADIOHEAD Post Malone f/ Quavo, “Congratulations” THE MARIACHI VERSION IS PRETTY SWEET Brian Imanuel, “How I surprised Post Malone with a mariachi band” ”IF YOU’RE LOOKING FOR LYRICS, IF YOU’RE LOOKING TO CRY, IF YOU’RE LOOKING TO THINK ABOUT LIFE...” JonWayne, Rap Album Two CORNBALL PIANOS AND THEN THAT SYNTH DRAGS, AND THEN THE DRUMS KICK Tee Grizzley, “First Day Out” “BUT WILD/WITH MY MONOTONE STYLE” 21 Savage, “Bankroll” Kodak Black, “Candy Paint” Rich Chigga, “Glow Like Dat” ANNUAL SPOT RESERVED FOR LA MUSICA DE HARRY FRAUD French Montana f/ Pharrell, “Bring Dem Things” WHEN LAETITIA SAYS HER OWN NAME ON “EMBERS” Vagabon, Infinite Worlds WHEN JESSIE LEANS INTO THE WORD “FUCK” Jessie Reyez, “Figures” THAT LIGHT MISTING, THAT CASUAL SPRITZ OF SYNTHS Lanark Artefax, “Touch Absence” A GOOD ANTI-DJT THING THAT CAME OUT EARLY THIS YEAR, WHICH FEELS LIKE EONS AGO Lushlife + friends, My Idols are Dead + My Enemies are in Power THE BABY, THE FLUTES, PIERRE’S OBNOXIOUSLY LONG TAG, THE JESSE LINGARD DANCE Playboi Carti, “Magnolia” ILLEST SHIT I SAW THIS YEAR, BABY-RELATED A child at a restaurant watching an iPad and an iPhone at the same damn time “[FREE] PLAYBOI CARTI TYPE BEAT” YBN Nahmir, “Rubbin off the Paint” GUNS N ROSES, BEFORE ONE OF THE WEIRDEST BEEFS OF THE YEAR Trippie Redd f/ 6IX9INE, “POLES1469″ SOMETIMES YOU JUST HAVE TO BELIEVE YOU CAN SING, AND DO IT WITH CONVICTION, AND I WILL LISTEN Trippie Redd, “Rack City/Love Scars 2″ ALL THE BACKGROUND NOISE/ECHOED-OUT ADLIBS MAKE THIS BlocBoy JB, “No Chorus Pt 10″ SMERZ HAS FUN DESPITE THE AWKWARD OF IT ALL Smerz on NTS IT SEEMS REALLY EASY TO MAKE A GOOD-SOUNDING SONG THESE DAYS Global Dan, “Off White” OF ALL THE DOPE SHIT THAT FUTURE APPEARED ON THIS YEAR, THE MOMENT I WILL REMEMBER IS That tiny pause before he sings “I need fresh air,” when he seems happy and content IS THAT A GEORGE MICHAEL SAMPLE? Mozzy, “Prayed for This” THE FIX C Struggs, “Go to Jesus” "IT’S COOL, BUT IT’S NOT...END ZONE” Lil Uzi Vert, “XO TOUR Llif3″ AN ALBUM BOOKENDED BY TOTALLY DIFFERENT KINDS OF COLIN KAEPERNICK/TAKE A KNEE REFERENCES Miguel, War and Leisure IT WAS A VERY GOOD YEAR Brockhampton, Saturation I-III SZA, Ctrl SPEAKING OF SZA: WHAT A GREAT TITLE, BESIDES IT BEING ONE OF MY FAVORITE ALBUMS OF THE YEAR Kingdom, Tears in the Club THE KELELA ALBUM WAS LOVELY, AS ARE THESE Kelela x Bok Bok, Dub Me Apart A RANDOM YOUTUBE COVER THAT I ALSO LIKED, BECAUSE IT CAPTURED HOW MELODIC THE ORIGINAL ACTUALLY IS Kathleen Nguyen covering Kendrick and Zacari’s “Love.” DAMN. WAS GOOD Almost as good as “The Heart Part 4″ LIKE A DE LA SOUL ALBUM, SOMETHING THAT I KNOW I WILL CONTINUE ENJOYING/UNDERSTANDING ANEW FOR YEARS TO COME Tyler, the Creator, Flower Boy ”BLONDED RADIO” MADE ME JOIN APPLE MUSIC Frank Ocean, “Chanel” Frank Ocean, “Biking (solo)” Tyler and Frank, “Where This Flower Blooms” MACH HOMMY MAKES GOOD MUSIC THAT’S HARD TO ACCESS “x Earl Sweatshirt” EP ty Soundcloud IT’S A WEIRD TIME B/W THIS BEAT IS SO DEMENTED Tay-K, “The Race” PROBABLY MY FAVORITE PHARRELL BEAT Kap G f/ Pharrell, “Icha Gicha” MAYBE THE GREATEST MUSIC EVER MADE, REISSUED Pharoah Sanders

REMINDED ME OF PHAROAH, WHEN IT WASN’T REMINDING ME OF BON IVER Joseph Shabason, Aytche AND I ENJOYED AYTCHE FOR SIMILAR REASONS I LIKED ZONING OUT TO Tom Rogerson and Brian Eno, Finding Shore ANNUAL SLOT RESERVED FOR MUSIC I LOVED THAT FEATURED HARP Alice Coltrane, World Spirituality Classics Vol 1

SAME, BUT FOR HARP STUFF THAT ALSO SHOUTS OUT WAWA Mary Lattimore, Collected Pieces ANNUAL SLOT RESERVED FOR TASTEFUL VIBRAPHONE Jenifa Mayanja, “Warrior Strutt” YOU TRYING TO GET THE PIPE, TO PLAY IT, OF COURSE, AS PART OF AN EXPERIMENTAL COMPOSITION? Mary Jane Leach, Pipe Dreams THERE’S A MOMENT DURING THAT BAD BOY DOCUMENTARY CAN’T STOP WON’T STOP WHERE IT BECOMES CLEAR THAT EVERYONE WHO WORKS CLOSELY WITH DIDDY EVENTUALLY TURNS TO GOD, AND IT WAS LIKE THE STRANGE OBVERSE OF Jay Z et al, 4:44 footnotes 2016, BUT I SAT IN THE MET BREUER AND WATCHED THIS OVER AND OVER FOR ABOUT AN HOUR Arthur Jafa, “Love is the Message, The Message is Death” I WANT TO WATCH THE FULL FOUR HOURS OF THIS Dev Hynes talking to Philip Glass TRICKSTERY BUT KINDA MESMERIZING! Klein, Tommy Lolina, Lolita EP Hype Williams, Rainbow Edition “NOT ANOTHER GOT MORE SEOUL, UNLESS YOU KOREAN” (CHILLWAVE REMIX) Mogwaa, Deja Vu “THE TING GOES SKRRRAHH, PAP, PAP, KA-KA-KA/SKIDIKI-PAP-PAP, AND A PU-PU-PUDRRRR-BOOM/SKYA, DU-DU-KU-KU-DUN-DUN/POOM, POOM, YOU DON’ KNOW” Big Shaq, “Mans Not Hot” IBID., BUT “PERKY” Drake, More Life I WANTED TO LIKE THE WIZKID ALBUM MORE, BUT THIS WAS AWESOME Tiwa Savage f/ Wizkid and Spellz, “Ma Lo” LISTENED TO THIS QUITE A FEW TIMES SIMPLY BECAUSE ”BREAKING NEWS: WILD GOAT ON THE LOOSE” IS A WEIRD LINE Lancey Foux f/ AJ Tracey, Kojey Radical and Jevon, “Wild Goat” UNITED TIL I DIE BUT AJ TRACEY’S TOTTENHAM HOTSPUR KIT LAUNCH FREESTYLE HAD ME BUZZZZZZIN AJ Tracey, “False 9″ DIFFERENT TIME OF DAY, KINDA LEFT ME SPEECHLESS Grouper, “Children” Colleen, A Flame my love, a frequency Kara Lis Coverdale, Grafts Ryuichi Sakamoto, async LEFT RYUICHI SAKAMOTO ENVIOUS Metaphors: Selected Soundworks from the Cinema of Apichatpong Weerasethakul FROM OMNI TRIO TO THIS, A PRETTY VISIONARY CAREER Robert Haigh, Creatures of the Deep A SONG THAT FEATURED TWO PEOPLE WHO SHOULD BE PRETTY BIG IN THE NEXT COUPLE OF YEARS DJDS f/ Amber Mark and Marco McKinnis, “Trees on Fire” LIKE, THIS IS GREAT Amber Mark, “Lose My Cool” AWESOME YEAR FOR POTIONS Social Lovers, “Drop Me a Line” Boss, “Song for Gods” WHISKED ME BACK TO MEMORIES OF the enormous room Joakim, “Samurai” Calvin Harris f/ Frank Ocean and Migos, “Slide” Amp Fiddler, “I’m Feeling You” Chaos in the CBD, Accidental Meetings LIKE FALLING ASLEEP ON THE SUBWAY, OR A TRUCK HITTING A POTHOLE AND SPITTING OUT A RECORD COLLECTION, OR HEARING A NANOSECOND OF BRAND NUBIAN THROUGH SOMEONE’S HEADPHONES AS YOU PASS THEM ON THE STREET, IT’S A VIBE Standing on the Corner, Red Burns MIKE’S A SAVIOR Mike 1. I SPENT A LOT OF TIME THIS YEAR THINKING ABOUT THE STRENGTH, ELASTICITY, FRAGILITY, GRAIN OF THE HUMAN VOICE AND SOME OF THIS WAS TOTALLY NECESSARY AND SUBLIME Deep Throat Choir, Be Ok Diamanda Galas, All the Way Moses Sumney, Aromanticism 2. SO ACHINGLY GOOD AND INTIMATE, ESPECIALLY THAT FAINT CROAK IN THE FIRST CHORUS Rostam f/ Kelly Zutrau, “Half-Light” 3. OF COURSE THESE WORLD-MAKERS TOO Bjork, Utopia Kaitlyn Aurelia Smith, The Kid Valerie June, “Astral Plane” 3a. A STRANGE PROPOSITION THAT I ENDED UP ADORING KAS covering Sade’s "By Your Side" THE BAY AREA IS JUST DIFFERENT Droop-E, Trillionaire Thoughts Lil B, Black Ken THE “BUILD YOU UP” VIDEO WAS FUN AND ALL BUT I’M REALLY GLAD THIS WASN’T THAT Kamiayah, Before I Wake THE BAY TO L.A. AND BACK AGAIN Mozzy f/ G Perico, “Blammatory” G Perico f/ Mozzy, “What’s Real” GYEAH MC Eiht, Which Way Iz West OUTRUN THE BEAT SOB x RBE, “Lane Changing 2″ BANDS THAT ALWAYS SOUND LIKE THEMSELVES, IN WAYS THAT I FIND COMFORTING the xx, I See You King Krule, The Ooz SAME AS ABOVE, MIDDLE-AGED DIVISION The Feelies, In Between Slowdive, “Star Roving” SOMEONE WHO SOUNDS LIKE NO ONE ELSE Jlin, Black Origami THE NEW NATIONAL ANTHEM Dreezy f/ 6LACK and Kodak Black, “Spar” I LOOKED UP EACH TIME THIS CAME ON THE SHUFFLE Shanti Celeste, “Loop One/Selector”

PROBABLY MY FAVORITE SONG GoldLink f/ Brent Faiyaz and Shy Glizzy, “Crew” OR MAYBE Jorja Smith x Preditah, “On My Mind” THIS WAS SICK TOO GoldLink & Co. covering Outkast’s “Roses” MAYBE THE BEST SONG J Hus, “Did You See”

ANOTHER YEAR, ANOTHER YEAR WHERE MY FAVORITE RELEASE WAS PROBABLY FROM YAEJI, THE��“GLASSES FOGGING UP” LINE WAS VERY RELATABLE Yaeji, EP2 THE SONG OF THE SPRING, SUMMER, WINTER I MEAN, IT’S WAYNE’S WORLD, WE JUST LIVE IN IT ### SIKH DEVOTIONAL MUSIC :: 2016 SPOOKY BLACK :: 2015

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lobsters-on-their-heads · 7 years

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A Galaxy of Women, Chap. 3

This is my chapter from the on-going series put together by @afrenchclone and @salixsericea. The whole series can be found here on AO3: http://archiveofourown.org/works/11836590

“Delphine and Cosima travel the world in search of clones to cure, these are their adventures.”

Note:

I have not read the Classified Clone Reports that was recently published, so some of this may contradict what's presented there.

As always, feedback is appreciated.

When she reached the intersection where the paved road met the gravel one, Cosima stopped. She let the gallon jugs of water fall to the ground and rolled her arms around in their sockets a bit. Overhead, a capuchin monkey scampered along a power line, it's tail wrapped around the wire above it. And of course, the clouds were gathering again. It was a wonder that Costa Rica even had weather reporters, she thought; the weather here was like clockwork – after lunch it rained, non-stop, for the rest of the day, letting up some time around midnight.

“Shit,” she muttered.

Before moving on, she looked both ways down the gravel road. They'd been in Cahuita, a tiny tourist town on the Caribbean coast, for three days, and every time Cosima had left the hotel on her own, she had gotten lost on the way back. Out of habit, she checked her phone, but the GPS was useless out here. Sighing, she picked the jugs of water back up and struck left. It seemed the more familiar view, at least.

The sky opened up less than five minutes later, drenching Cosima to the bone and blinding her. “Lasik,” she muttered. “When we get back, I'm getting fucking Lasik.”

She wouldn't, she knew. She hated putting contacts in her eyes, and lasers were a thousand times worse, but when the rain coated her glasses, she'd left the umbrella in the hotel again, and her hands were full, Lasik sounded really, really appealing.

Eventually, Cosima set the jugs down again and took off her glasses with a huff. It was actually easier to see without them, for once. With them on, all she saw were sheets of water, but without them, she could make out shades of light and dark, and she could tell if a building was in front of her or not. She tucked them into her bag, careful to shield them from the cans of chicken broth and packs of tortillas.

As she walked on, she turned her thoughts to their job here. They had spent the past few weeks traveling Latin America, armed with the cure for the clone disease, a list of names, decent Spanish and terrible Portuguese, and an ATM card for a bank account with almost a million dollars in it. Every time she swiped that card at an ATM or an airport, Cosima said a silent “Thank you,” to Rachel for the funds. And every time she looked at the list of 274 names, she wondered how many names were missing, removed before Cosima even knew she was a clone herself. So far, she and Delphine had cured or vaccinated three Ledas outside of their little Clone Club in North America. Camila was the first, followed by two in Brazil. Eventually it should have been fourteen in Brazil, but one died just before their arrival in the country, and one, Erika Maria Santos, was said to be here, in or near Cahuita, visiting friends. Cosima and Delphine would have stayed in Brazil longer, and looked for Erika Maria later, but her family claimed she was coughing up blood and had suffered at least one seizure. Apparently, she was also in deep denial about her condition. They desperately needed to treat her, but after three days in Cahuita, there was still no sign of her.

Lost in thought, Cosima sloshed through ankle-deep water along the side of the road until her feet went down a foot too far, propelling her farther down until the water reached her chest. The jugs of water hit the ground, her hands still gripping the handles, and splashed brown water into her face. In the moment, her first thought was the piles of garbage and horse manure that sat in every ditch around the country, and now she was in a ditch soaking in all of that. At least her mouth was closed. She couldn't dwell long on that, though, as the water pushed her forward and it took all her effort to stay upright.

“Oh shit shit shit shit...” She dug her hands into the loose gravel of the roadway, but it fell away with every attempt to pull herself up. A small voice in her head told her that this was how people died in floods.

A truck drove by and splashed more water at her, then stopped a moment later. A man ran over to her and grabbed her by the wrists, pulling her out of the ditch. She fell gracelessly against his legs when she tried to right herself, and he said things in Spanish she didn't understand. Shaking, dizzy, and functionally blind, she let him lead her, with repeated requests of “Venga, venga...” to the pickup stopped close by. He opened the passenger door for her and handed her the jugs of water. Inside the extended cab, another passenger shifted aside to let her in. Once she was seated and the door was closed, Cosima realized she was dripping all over the place. “Oh, fuck, I'm so sorry,” she said. “This will ruin your upholstery.”

The woman beside her laughed and handed her a dry handkerchief. In a soft Scottish accent, she said, “I don't think that's our greatest concern right now, love.”

English! In different circumstances, Cosima would have hated herself for the joy that bloomed at hearing her own language. She took the handkerchief with a smile and dabbed her eyes with it, then fished her glasses from her bag and dried them off. While she did, the driver climbed back in and spoke softly with the passenger.

“Thank you so, so much for helping me out,” she said. Realizing the man might not speak English like his passenger did, she added, “Muchas gracias. Muchas, muchas gracias,” and hoped she had the gender agreement right. At the same time, she realized she was sitting in a strange vehicle with strange people who could take her anywhere. At least the door was unlocked.

“De nada. No worries,” the passenger said. Cosima got the distinct impression that they were both waiting for her, so she pushed her glasses on and turned to thank them again before stepping back out into the rain and getting back to the hotel. Once she could see again, though, she froze. Sitting in the pickup next to her, with green streaks in her hair and wire-rim glasses, was a Leda clone.

“Holy shit,” Cosima whispered.

The passenger held out her hand with a sigh. “I know. I'm Rebecca. Can we give you a lift somewhere? Maybe have a chat?”

Only once on their trip so far had Cosima come face-to-face with another clone, also completely by accident. That time, after a sleepless night on a bus from Brasilia to Belo Horizonte, Cosima stumbled into the clinic waiting room without checking first that their patient was gone. That clone, Adriana Grael, looked Cosima right in the eye, smiled politely, said something in Portuguese, and went on her way without a second glance while Cosima gaped at her and wondered what to say. This clone, this Scottish Rebecca in the pickup truck, was a different matter entirely.

“Sure,” Cosima said. “I'm Cosima. Nice to meet you.”

The driver nodded and tapped Rebecca on the shoulder as he adjusted his seat. “Co-si-ma,” he repeated, then leaned past Rebecca to shake Cosima's hand and introduce himself as Eduardo. “Te lo dije,” he told Rebecca. “No es Julia.”

“Sí, lo veo,” Rebecca said. “So, Cosima, where can we take you?”

Cosima gave her the name of the hotel, and Eduardo drove back in the direction Cosima had come from. Figures, Cosima thought. I was going the wrong way anyway. Again.

Rebecca watched her during the ten minute drive with the sort of calm, confident attention that Cosima recognized. She'd had the same look on her own face when she first met Alison and, later, Sarah. It was the look Beth had when she showed up at Cosima's favorite coffee shop in Berkeley, in the weirdest not-date Cosima'd ever had. Cosima turned to face Rebecca in the cab and returned the gaze. Rebecca was the only other clone Cosima'd seen with glasses, and it fascinated her that Rebecca chose such different frames for hers than Cosima did.

“Who's Julia?” Cosima asked. One of the Brazilian still on their list was named Julia, but she wasn't ready to give up that information just yet.

“Julia Luiz,” Rebecca said, and Cosima's eyebrows shot up. “She's from Brazil. She also looks just like you – like us. We thought you might be her. She, uh, doesn't have dreadlocks, though. Or glasses, but you weren't wearing those when we saw you back there.”

“Right. So you are aware, then.”

“Aware?”

Cosima held herself back from using the word clone. “You're aware that there's others who look just like us. You've met some?”

Rebecca took a deep breath. “Yeah. Haven't met you before, though.”

“Ditto. Obvs.”

Eduardo parked the truck in front of the hotel. Cosima needed to talk to Rebecca a lot more, but she also needed to get inside, and now was not a good time to invite a stranger into the room. Rebecca, fortunately, was on the same page. She pointed to the little restaurant attached to the hotel. “Do want to get breakfast together tomorrow? We can talk more then, I think.”

“Yeah. Yeah, that sounds great. Perfect. Um, if you don't mind telling me, what's your last name?”

“Twell.” She reached out her hand for another shake. “Dr. Rebecca Twell. From Edinburgh, but I live in Glasgow. Here on vacation.” She gave a grin that showed slightly overlapping front teeth, an unusual feature for a Leda, but maybe she'd just never had braces.

“Vacation, yeah. When you're not pulling your identicals out of ditches, you mean?”

They both smiled, and Rebecca nodded. “Well, you're the first I've done that with, and hopefully you'll be the last. Breakfast tomorrow at 8?”

“Sounds good. Thanks again. Gracias, Eduardo.”

As Cosima squelched her way towards the room, she ran over the details she knew of Rebecca so far. A doctor of some kind, with glasses and nontraditional hair, who was at least somewhat self-aware and in contact with another Leda. Probably more than one other Leda, judging by how calm she was when Cosima showed up. There were enough similiarities to make Cosima very interested indeed, and she wondered how many other similarities she would uncover. Hopefully not too many; enough people flirted with Delphine as it was.

Inside the room, she put those little worries aside. Delphine was more or less the same as she'd been when Cosima left, sprawled out on her stomach on top of the bedsheets, wearing her little gray gym shorts and nothing else. The trashcan sitting next to the bed was empty, meaning she had probably slept the entire time Cosima was gone. She only moved when Cosima removed her sandals and dropped them by the door.

“You forgot your umbrella,” Delphine said, her voice muffled by the pillow.

“That was one thing that happened, yes.” She peeled off her clothes and dropped them into the garbage bag they were using as a laundry bag. They would need to be washed ASAP, but first, she needed to wash herself. “I'll tell you more after I shower.”

When she emerged twenty minutes later, after scrubbing every surface of her body and hair but avoiding the temptation to use bleach on her skin, Cosima put on her pajama pants and a T-shirt. Delphine was on her back now, and her ribs were more obvious and her skin more pale than Cosima would've liked them to be. Cosima got a jug of water and refilled the glass on the bedside table, then opened a can of chicken broth. Only then did she realize that their room lacked a microwave. Seeing Cosima look around and then drop her shoulders in disappointment, Delphine reached over and rubbed her knee.

“It's okay. It doesn't have to be hot.”

“Kind of nasty if it's room temp, though, isn't it?”

Delphine managed to shrug and pull herself into a sitting position. “It's okay. Really.”

Cosima poured some of the broth into a plastic bowl and got a spoon for her, then opened a pack of tortillas and settled onto the bed beside her girlfriend. She was tempted to check her temperature again, but she had checked a few hours ago, and Delphine was looking a little better, so she didn't. She knew exactly how annoying it was to be treated like an invalid. Instead, she rested her hand on Delphine's thigh and watched her take little sips of chicken broth. “You did have to wait until we were in, like, the smallest town ever to get food poisoining, didn't you?”

“It's not food poisoning.”

“Right.” Two days earlier, the nurse at the local clinic proclaimed Delphine to be suffering from food poisoning, overriding Delphine's own claims that she had gotten sick from the local water. The nurse told her to rest and gave her an antibiotic suppository that Delphine absolutely refused to let Cosima administer.

“You know it's not the first time I've put something in your ass,” Cosima had told her, only to get a dirty look and a closed bathroom door in her face.

“So,” Delphine said now, “tell me what else happened today.”

“Oh! Yeah, so, interesting development. I ran into Rebecca Twell, Leda clone from Scotland.”

“Scotland?”

“I know, right?” Cosima got the list of Ledas from the desk and skimmed it for Rebecca's name. “She, uh, gave me a ride back and said we should have breakfast tomorrow.”

Delphine lowered the spoon. “Really?”

“Yeah. She said she's been looking for Julia Luiz, one of the Brazlian Ledas, too.”

“Where did you meet her?”

“Oh, I uh... I might've needed some help getting out of a ditch. She and this guy Eduardo drove by and he pulled me out. She wears glasses, too. I'll have to see if she's a lesbian.” Cosima flipped to Rebecca's name on the Europe list, but did not see Eduardo listed as a monitor or known associate.

“And you're having breakfast with her tomorrow?” Delphine asked.

“Well, if you're feeling up to it, I was hoping that we could have breakfast with her.”

* * *

Delphine was still weak in the morning, but she felt well enough to shuffle down to the restaurant with Cosima, where she ordered green tea and plain toast. Five minutes after eight, Rebecca Twell strolled in, wearing a flowy tie-dyed skirt, sandals, and a snug T-shirt. Without the bulky rain jacket, Cosima saw that Rebecca was curvier than she was, with the rounded shoulders of a someone who sat at a desk for most of their life. Rebecca's hair was pulled into a low ponytail that reached her waist, and a lock of her hair was woven with colorful thread. Cosima had briefly wondered, yesterday, if Rebecca smoked pot, given all the other similarities she and Cosima shared. Seeing Rebecca now, she no longer wondered.

“Good morning!” Rebecca shook Cosima's hand when she stood to greet her, and nodded at Delphine, who stayed seated.

Cosima did the introductions. “Delphine, this is Dr. Rebecca Twell. Rebecca, this is my girlfriend, Dr. Delphine Cormier.”

Rebecca smiled at them both as she sat. “And are you a doctor as well, Cosima?”

“Ah, no. Not yet. Working on it...” In truth, although Cosima had great plans to work on her dissertation during their travels, she had done almost none of it since leaving Canada. “Evolutionary developmental biology. ABD.” she said, in answer to the question she saw on Rebecca's face.

“Oh ho!” Rebecca leaned back in her seat, eyes wide. “You might be able to lend us a hand, then, in this little mystery.”

Cosima and Delphine exchanged a small laughing glance. “Yeah, I think I probably can.”

They were interrupted as the waiter came and Rebecca ordered coffee, orange juice, plantains, and gallo pinto with two eggs. After he left, Rebecca propped her arms on the table. “And what kind of doctor are you, Dr. Cormier?”

“Please, just Delphine. Immunology, but I have experience in general and emergency medicine, as well. What about you?”

“History! I specialize in medieval europe, particularly women's experiences and stories, particularly in Scotland, as you might imagine.” The waiter brought her coffee, and she took a large drink. “Not as useful when you're looking at a biological mystery.”

Cosima shook her head and smiled. “Maybe not, but it's still a fascinating subject.” She was trying to think of how to broach the topic of clones when Delphine jumped in.

“So, Cosima tells me that you're looking for Julia Luiz? The woman from Brazil?”

“Well, it's a bit of a stretch to say that I'm looking for her,” Rebecca said, her smile slipping a bit. “I thought I saw her yesterday, but that was just your girlfriend here, stuck in a muddy ditch.”

“How do you know Julia, though?” Cosima asked. “We were looking for her in Rio, but we couldn't find her.”

“Oh? Well, I think she does a lot of traveling.” Rebecca began toying nervously with the sugar packets on the table.

“That doesn't answer my question. How do you know her?”

Rebecca set her coffee down and sighed, then looked up and stared at Cosima for a while. Cosima was used to it, or she had been. Beth had stared at her the same way when they'd met, and so had Sarah. Alison, of course, had avoided looking directly at her the first few times they met, except the time she was high as a kite. The stare didn't bother her coming from other clones. It was only when others, like Virginia Coady or Susan Duncan, stared at her that it made her squirm.

“No, it doesn't,” Rebecca acknowledged. “I met Julia in Puerto Rico a few months ago. I met her through another woman, my friend Gabriela, who's another one, looks just like us. Gabriela met Julia years before, at some international summer program for rich kids. They're both rich.” Rebecca gestured as though that was a critical fact, and Cosima nodded along.

Delphine got a notebook and a pen from her bag. “Gabriela?” She flipped a few pages. “Gabriela Báez? From San Juan, Puerto Rico?”

Rebecca was frowning now, and her posture was more rigid. “Maybe. How do you know that?”

Cosima recognized that face, too. That was the what the fuck is going on face both Alison and Sarah had in the early days of Clone Club, when they had known something was strange, but were starting to realize just how strange things really were. She reached across the table and lay her hand next to Rebecca's. “Listen. This is weird. I know. But you've already figured a lot of it out, by the looks of it. You know that there are people out there who look exactly like you.”

“Yeah. That doesn't explain how your girlfriend has my friend's name, and Julia's name, written in a little book. Is my name in there, too?”

Delphine looked from Cosima to Rebecca. “Uhm, no. It's, uh, it's in a separate book. This is Latin America only.”

“Latin America only?” Rebecca repeated. “So, what, I'm in the Europe book?”

“Yes.”

Cosima saw Delphine wanting to say that it was actually more of a “Europe and the Middle East” book, and she cut her off. “How many of us have you met, Rebecca? How many women who look just like you?”

“With you, three. You, Gabriela, and Julia.”

“Okay.” She tried to remember how their conversation with Sarah had gone, the first night they met, and how she had wanted it to go, before Alison blurted out, “We're clones!”

“Do you know why you all look exactly the same?” Delphine asked.

The waiter brought her food, and Rebecca picked at it for a moment before answering. “Well, my parents got IVF, and Gabi's did, too, so we figured it's something to do with that. Same donor, obviously, though we're a little surprised we got spread out so much. Especially since we're so close in age. We're only two weeks apart.”

“And Julia?” Cosima asked. “Her parents got IVF, too, right?”

Rebecca laughed at that. “She says they didn't. She says it's a divine coincidence, and IVF is against God's plan.”

Cosima smiled. She had never been religious, but she figured if anything was against God's plan, human cloning probably was. “Yeah, not every parent tells their kids the whole truth about where they come from.”

“Apparently.” Rebecca ate a few bites of her food, and Cosima followed suit before her own meal got cold. “I'm guessing your parents did IVF, too, Cosima?”

“Yeah. Yeah, they were pretty open about that. They didn't get a donor, though. Or, I should say, they didn't think they got a donor. They think I'm biologically theirs. Both of theirs.”

“And you're not?”

Cosima shook her head. She had emailed her parents from Brazil, telling them she was on a research trip in South America, but that she wanted to talk to them about something important, and inviting them to Toronto after she returned. So far, her parents hadn't replied, but it wasn't surprising. They didn't do email very much. “No,” she said. “Not biologically.”

“And I suppose, being a couple of biology people, you've actually run the genetic tests to find out.”

She nodded. “Yes. And, I've also run tests on the other, uh, the other women who look just like me. Like us.”

“How many others?”

Both Cosima and Delphine opened their mouths, but said nothing right away. “Well,” Cosima managed, “personally, I've run DNA tests, or seen the tests, anyway, on ten of us. Eleven, if I include myself.”

“Eleven?” Rebecca's eyes went wide again. “All women?”

“We were all born female. One of us is a trans man.”

“Okay. So, what, we all came from the same IVF donor, or what?”

“We all came from the same place, yes.”

Rebecca nodded, and they all ate in silence while she digested the new information. Cosima wondered how much to tell her. Dr. Rebecca Twell, historian, might be more intellectual on the surface than Krystal Goderich, for example, but Cosima knew from experience that advanced degrees did not mean more openness to reality.

“Let me ask you something else,” Rebecca said. “Of those eleven people, was one of them a German woman named Katja something-or-other?”

Cosima's head perked up. “Yeah. Yeah, she's kind of the one we credit for finding out about all of us in the first place.”

Rebecca pushed her gallo pinto around on her plate. “She contacted me, oh, must've been two years ago now. Give or take, you know. Said something about identicals, about other women all over Europe she'd found, and some in North America, but I didn't pay any attention back then. I thought she was full of it.”

“Did she send you a picture of herself?”

“Sure she did. Bright red hair, I think she had. I never replied, just binned the email she sent. And the one after that. Then I got my new job in Glasgow, and I didn't hear from her any more.” Rebecca gave a small laugh. “I guess she was right after all. I'll have to get back in touch, tell her I was wrong.”

Cosima bit her lower lip. “I'm afraid Katja passed away, actually. Not long after she contacted you, it sounds like.”

“Oh? She couldn't've been that old, could she? What happened, if you don't mind me asking?”

Now Cosima shifted in her seat. No harm in telling the truth, she thought, since the danger that killed Katja was no longer a danger, but a doting mother of twins. “She was murdered,” Cosima said.

“Holy hell.”

“I know. She helped us out a lot, though. She'd collected blood and hair samples from some of the other European, uh... women, like us. That's how I could do tests on them.”

“Did they know you were testing them?”

“She said they knew. Katja sent me four samples, including her own. If you'd been in contact with her, she probably would've tried getting samples from you, as well.”

“Still sounds weird.”

Cosima had to grin at that. “Yeah, you have no idea.”

“Tell me something else, though. My sister's kids, both girls, same mother and father, right? They don't look exactly the same, do they? You can tell them apart, no problem. Hell, Sophie's got blue eyes and Olivia's are brown! That's normal, though. Siblings don't usually look exactly the same unless they're identical twins. You're a biologist, you know about all that.” Cosima nodded, knowing where Rebecca was going with this. “But you and me, we look exactly the same. Okay, maybe I'm a little heavier than you, you look like you work out more than me, okay. Different hair, you're a bit more tan. But otherwise? We're the same on the outside. My friends Gabi and Julia look even more alike; they've got the same sort of body type, used to have the same hairstyle. They could switch outfits and pretend to be each other, and no one would notice until they opened their mouths because Julia's English isn't so great.”

“Yeah.” Cosima smiled at Delphine, remembering a few interesting clone swaps.

“And yet,” Rebecca went on, “we're just all from the same IVF donor, is what you're saying. So, that means, same father, different mothers. We're half sisters, yeah?”

Cosima put down her utensils and fiddled with the edge of her napkin, wondering if now was the time to drop the clone bomb. Delphine took her hand and sqeezed it, letting her know that whichever answer she gave, Delphine was fine with it. They'd find a way to innoculate Rebecca whether she knew the truth or not. Still, Rebecca was a smart woman. The truth wouldn't hurt her, probably.

“Okay, now that worries me.” Rebecca pointed to their joined hands on the table. “That tells me you've got something maybe a little upsetting that you haven't said yet.”

Cosima sighed and nodded again. “The thing is, I didn't say we all came from the same IVF donor. I said we all came from the same place.”

In the pause that followed, Rebecca said, “You're gonna need to tell me what that means, Cosima. The same place, when we're all from different countries, different continents. So, what, we're all from outer space, or what? Aliens?”

“Uh, no.” Cosima laughed in spite of herself. “We're clones, actually. We're genetic identicals, like you suspected. Not just siblings, or half-siblings, but totally identical.”

Rebecca leaned back in her chair and nodded. “Like the sheep.”

“Like the sheep.” The thought make Cosima think of MK, but before she could dwell long, Rebecca was shaking her head.

“That's a little bit illegal, isn't it?”

“The people, the organization that created you,” Delphine said, “did not care about the legality of it. They had the resources to do it outside of legal channels. Or, perhaps better said, they had the resources to make it not matter whether it was legal or not. No one stopped them.”

“Are they still doing it? Still cloning people?”

“No.”

Around them, the restaurant was full, and a line had formed at the host station. At the table beside them, the young couple drinking mimosas kept glancing over at the mention of clones.

“How much longer will you be in Costa Rica?” Cosima asked.

“I'm leaving Cahuita tomorrow morning,” Rebecca said. “Costa Rica the day after that.”

“Well, I'm really glad that we caught you here. Um, listen, there's something else you should know, something that's really important.”

“More important than being a clone? My goodness.”

Cosima couldn't tell from that statement if Rebecca believed she was a clone or not, but it didn't matter. “Yeah, actually, but it's related. So, since we're all identical, we all have the same genetic health risks. Some pretty serious ones, actually.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. That's actually why we have all these names written down, and why we're trying to find everyone. There's a disease that affects clones, and it's fatal if not treated, but we've got a treatment that works, and a vaccine for those who don't have symptoms yet.”

“Fatal, how? What kind of disease?”

“It's an autoimmune disease. It starts in the uterus and goes to the lungs, the kidneys... the first symptoms are usually bloody coughs, but it also means we're all sterile.”

Rebecca shifted uncomfortably in her chair. “Bloody coughs, you says?”

“Yes. Do you have blood when you cough?”

“No, not usually. But Julia does. Gabi tried getting her to a doctor, but Julia, well... she doesn't care for medicine too much.”

“It's important that we see her, then,” Delphine said. “If she's already showing symptoms.” She flipped through her notebook some more until she got to Julia Luiz's page, and wrote down that what Rebecca said.

“Good luck getting her treated, though,” Rebecca said, eyeing the notebook.

“Well, we'd like to treat you, as well,” Cosima said. “Even if you're not showing symptoms, we can innoculate you so that you never do.”

Rebecca sighed. “I'll have to think about it. We've just met, after all, haven't we? I don't usually let strangers go sticking me with things unless I know who they work for. It makes me think, though. My friend Gabi, she's been trying to get pregnant for years. The clinic told her a few months ago that she's infertile. It broke her heart. Does that means she's sick? That she's dying?”

Cosima and Delphine shook their heads. “No,” Delphine said. “All of the clones are sterile, with very few exceptions. Even after the treatment, the infertility remains. I'm sorry. But, hopefully we can innoculate her against the disease, along with everyone else. To make sure she never gets sick. ”

“Well, better to be alive, I guess,” Rebecca said. She blew out a puff of air. “You know, you could've told me I was sterile a lot sooner. It would've saved me gobs of trouble with birth control. All the same... I always figured I'd get pregnant one day. Now I've got to tell my boyfriends.”

Cosima smiled at the plural boyfriends. “Obviously, you're welcome to check with your own doctor to verify.”

“How d'you know we're all sterile? You said there were very few exceptions, but everyone else is sterile? What, did you check that too, in your lab?”

The waiter came by then and dropped the check off, which Cosima paid. They gathered their things and went out into the sunny Caribbean morning. Steam rose from every surface, and they had to squint against the glare. Tourists were piling into the restaurant now, wearing variations on a beach or jungle theme, in board shorts or wrapped in towels with tree frogs proclaiming Pura Vida! The three of them walked away from the crowd, towards the edge of the road where the sign cast a wide shadow.

“How do I know we're all sterile?” Cosima repeated. “First, I knew because every clone I knew was sterile. Katja told me that all the European clones she'd met were sterile; that's one way she knew they were all related some how. And the first two clones I met in Canada both had infertility issues. I hadn't had issues myself because, well, it never really came up.” She gave a rueful smile. “We found out later, though, that it was planned. The people who designed us never wanted us to have children. Infertility is built into our genetic code.”

“But there are exceptions, you said. Exceptions to the infertility thing, or to the disease?”

Rebecca was handling the news of being a clone remarkably well, Cosima thought. She leaned against the restaurant sign, arms crossed, watching Cosima and Delphine, but mostly Cosima, with no more than a small furrow between her eyebrows.

“There are two exceptions we know of,” Delphine said. “Twins that were removed from the cloning process after conception but before the infertility sequence was introduced.”

The furrow between Rebecca's brows increased. “That doesn't make any sense. Your genes are set when you're conceived, not after.”

“Well, most of them are,” Cosima said. “Usually. It, um, gets a little more complicated when you're looking at clones, though, or any kind of genetic engineering. I mean, you can get gene therapies now, as an adult.”

Rebecca took off her glasses and rubbed the bridge of her nose. “This is getting over my head, I'm afraid.”

“It's a lot to take in,” Delphine agreed. Cosima saw her wrap her arms around her midsection, wincing.

“Give it some thought,” Cosima told Rebecca. “We'll be here all day, room 121. Drop by whenever. At least stop by before you leave, so we can give you our contact info.”

* * *

Back in the room, Cosima logged the encounter with Rebecca while Delphine curled up on the bed. “That was damn lucky,” Cosima said. “The sheet has Rebecca still living in Edinburgh with her parents.”

“It would have been easy to find her, though.”

“Sure, but now we don't have to.”

“She could vanish. Panic after learning she's a clone, and we never see her again.”

Cosima turned in the desk chair to look at her girlfriend. “Since when are you the cynical one? I thought that was my job.”

Delphine smiled at her, eyelids dropping. “Maybe you're rubbing off on me. I don't really think she will, though. She was surprisingly open to everything we told her. I think she'll come back.”

* * *

Sure enough, Rebecca returned close to seven that evening, a laptop bag slung over one shoulder. “You mind if I Skype from here? With Gabi. I told her most of it over the phone, but I think she should see you.”

“Yeah! Yeah, definitely.” Cosima cleared a space for her on the desk, making sure that all identifying information for the other clones was hidden. Delphine climbed out of the hammock on the porch, where the daily rain fell in sheets just beyond the awning.

A few minutes later, Gabriela Báez popped up on Rebecca's laptop screen. Gabriela was slender, approaching skinny, with a blonde-highlighted suburban bob that made Cosima think of Alison and Krystal at the same time. Rebecca made the introductions in English, and Gabriela leaned forward to inspect Cosima's face, rubbing her upper lip as she did. “Hmm....” she said. “You're a scientist?”

“Uh, yes. Working on my PhD right now.”

Gabriela nodded, then gestured to Delphine lingering in the background. “And that's your girlfriend?”

“Yes. She's an immunologist. She's been doing most of the innoculations and treatments so far.” Cosima wrapped her arm around Delphine's waist and pulled her closer.

“You're a lesbian, then?” Gabriela asked.

“Yes.”

Gabriela shook her head, and Cosima steeled herself for a homophobic comment or two, but instead Gabriela turned to Rebecca and said, “Do not tell Julia. She'll run away and never come back.”

On the chair beside Cosima, Rebecca laughed. “Oh, lordy, she would.” Turning to Cosima, she explained, “Julia's a little, eh, conservative in her world views. When you do meet her, don't be surprised when she tries to save your soul for Jesus.”

“If you really can treat that bloody cough of her, though,” Gabriela went on, “the best way to find her is through her church. I'm serious. Act like you want to convert, she'll do anything for you.” Gabriela's English was almost native-like, Cosima thought. Without knowing where she was from, she might have thought Gabriela was Canadian, or an English woman who spent a lot of time in the States.

“That's good to know,” Delphine said. “And we do have a cure. For her, for you, for everyone.”

Gabriela kept rubbing her upper lip, tapping her desk or table with her other hand. Behind her, the room was bright yellow, decorated with miniature paintings along the wall. “Well, I guess now's as a good a time as any to tell you, Beck; I went to see my doctor yesterday.”

Rebecca leaned forward. “You did? You're not sick, though, are you?”

“I'm not coughing up blood, no. But I was feeling a little short of breath at the gym last week, for a few days in a row, so I went in, thinking of Julia, of course. He listened to me breathe for a while, and he's a little worried. Wants me to come in for tests in a few days.”

“Fuck, Gabi.” Rebecca dropped her head into her hands.

Cosima squeezed in closer to the screen. “Um, Gabi? I know we've, like, just met, but that sounds a lot like the first symptoms of the disease. Would you mind if we came up to look you over? We can make sure the disease never progresses farther than this.”

Gabriela looked down, then nodded. “Sure.”

“So, what?” Rebecca said, “You think I should get the shot, too, then?”

With a sigh, Gabriela looked back up at her. “That's up to you. I just know that Rodrigo is worried about me.”

“Didn't you say Rodrigo's been acting a little strangely recently, though?” Rebecca said. While they spoke, Cosima pulled herself away long enough to discretely check Gabriela's page in their notebook. Sure enough, Rodrigo, assuming it was the same man, had been Gabriela's monitor for seven years, and they'd been married for four.

“Yes, he's been stuck to the internet for months. I'm getting used to it.”

“What kind of stuff is he looking up on the internet?” Cosima asked. “Do you know?”

“Sure I know. He's on these news sites, looking at these big companies falling apart with scandals. He's really into the ones whose CEOs have mysteriously died recently.”

“Like Dyad?” Delphine asked.

“It sounds familiar.”

Meanwhile, Rebecca leaned the chair back on it's hind legs and rubbed her arms. “Okay, well, if you and Rodrigo think this treatment is a good idea, maybe I'll get it. What are the side effects?”

Cosima chimed in the answer. “Light fever is the most common. Some people get dizzy for a day or so afterwards. That's for the vaccine, which it sounds like you would need. If the disease has already manifested with symptoms, the treatment's a little more involved.” She turned to face Gabriela directly. “Hey, um, this is gonna sounds really unpleasant, but can you maybe get your doctor to do a uterine biopsy in the next couple of days? You might not feel anything now, but if you're already short of breath like this, you probably have polyps in your uterus, too, and that's where we'll need to administer your treatment.”

Gabriela shifted in her chair. “It's in the uterus, too?”

“I'm afraid so, yeah.”

“That explains that, then.” Gabriela seemed to be talking to herself, so no one responded.

Delphine picked up the notebook with Gabriela's page open and asked when they could see her in San Juan. A few minutes later, they had it all arranged, and Gabriela signed off of Skype. Rebecca still held her forehead in her hands.

“A vaccine, huh?” she said.

Delphine nodded. “Yes. We can give it to you now, if you'd like.”

Cosima sat on the armchair, leaning towards Rebecca. “It's scary, I know, but trust me, the vaccine's a lot easier than dealing with treatment once you get sick. And without the vaccine, you probably will get sick, we just don't know when.”

“And you've gotten it yourself, then? This vaccine?”

“No. I was pretty sick by the time we got a cure, so I had to have a bunch of treatments. Trust me, the vaccine's easier.”

Rebecca rubbed her forehead. “You were sick. Julia's sick now. Gabi says she might be sick. Christ. And we're all clones.”

Quietly, Delphine moved around her to her medical case near the sliding door. She pulled out a vial of innoculate and a syringe, and set them down on the desk without a word. Rebecca eyeballed them. “Just one?” she asked.

“Just one. In your upper arm.”

Rebecca blew out a loud breath and swore. “What the hell.” Rolling up her sleeve, she closed her eyes. “Just don't tell me what you're doing. I try not to think about needles when they're going in me.”

Smiling now, Delphine put on her gloves, cleaned the site on her arm, and injected the vaccine into Rebeeca's left deltoid. Rebecca hissed and swore in what might have been Gaelic, then shook herself all over once Delphine said it was over.

Fifteen minutes later, after Rebecca left, Delphine perched on the arm of the chair where Cosima sat looking at their list of Ledas, and handed her a green highlighter. “That went well, I think.”

Cosima grinned. “Yeah. Thank God for Gabriela; I wasn't sure we'd get Rebecca on board before.”

“I've already booked the flight for San Juan, the day after tomorrow.”

“Why not tomorrow?”

“I thought we should look some more for Erika Maria Santos while we're here. And besides, we still haven't done that sunrise breakfast on the beach you promised me.”

Cosima giggled and nuzzled Delphine's chest. “That's because someone decided it was a better idea to be sick for three days right after we got here.” She slid a hand up Delphine's shirt and tickled her stomach, careful to avoid her scar, which she knew had been aggrivated by all the heaving Delphine's abdominal muscles had been doing recently. “You're feeling better, though?”

“Much.”

“Good.” She let her lips linger on Delphine's jaw for several moments. “Because after sunrise breakfast on the beach, I might have some plans for us that do not involved anyone else, at all.”

* * * * * * *

Note:

While I have been to Cahuita, I never went to the clinic there, so the representation here shouldn't be taken as based on reality.

#orphan black fanfiction #post-canon #canon compliant #cosima niehaus #delphine cormier #originial characters

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marksleepy · 7 years

Text

one year older

a/n: this is just a little something for my pal nabi. happy birthday beeeeeeaaaach ily even though it may not seem like i do :^)

neotechs’ gif

Five, four, three, two, one…

Donghyikes happy birthday loser [12:00 AM]

Jianny (john bro) happy birthday Y/N~!! [12:00 AM] am i the first [12:00 AM]

Ass-y roommate happy birthday idk why i’m texting you when i’m just beside you [12:00 AM] and don’t think idk about what you saved my contact name as [12:00 AM] but it’s your birthday i’ll let it slide [12:00 AM]

Your face almost aches from smiling so hard as you type your replies to Donghyuck (“thanks loser”), Johnny (“thanks!! yes you are”)—he doesn’t have to know the truth—and your roommate (“oops ;) thank you”).

Notifications pop up on the top of your phone screen a few more times, all which are messages from some friends wishing you a happy birthday. The excitement dies down a minute later, and you throw your phone on the bed, watching it flop down lifelessly on the sheets.

You hear the rustling of bedsheets and the sound of hurried footsteps.

“So?” your roommate says while poking your arm.

“So what?” you reply, though you fully know what she’s asking about. You retrieve your phone and unlock it before locking it and pushing it under your pillow. Nope, nothing from him.

“Don’t act like you don’t know. What did Jaehyun say?” She raises a brow at you, a teasing smile playing on her lips.

You press your index finger to her forehead and push her away. “Stop being so nosy. Besides, what do you think he’d say? Merry Christmas?”

Your roommate rolls her eyes and lies belly-down on your bed. “If you haven’t told me about your undying love for him I wouldn’t have asked. And,”—she sits up—“I’m telling you, he feels the same way as you do.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Best friends to lovers, how very cliché.”

You pull the duvet over your legs and urge your roommate to ‘get her own ass in her own bed’. Clicking off the lamp on your bedside table, the room is immediately engulfed in darkness. It’s quiet if not for the frequent laughter coming from next door. You glance at your roommate, who has her phone held only inches away from her face. Your eyes adjust to the darkness fairly quickly. You pull your phone from under your pillow and unlock it again, squinting at the sudden brightness. Apart from messages from Mark and Doyoung, there is none from Jaehyun.

The first thing that pops into your head is “are you kidding me?”, but you think of other possible reasons as to why Jaehyun, out of all people, seems to have forgotten about this special (for you, at least) day. Maybe he’d dropped his phone and cracked the heck out of it, or maybe he’s still busy practising for his dance performance next week. Maybe he’s concentrating on a report, maybe—

“Dude, what’s going on?” Your roommate’s voice sounded ten times louder in the small and dark room. “You have the weirdest look on your face.”

You lock your phone and put it on the floor so fast you almost fell off the bed. “I’m fine,” you smile in her direction even though it’s impossible for her to even see your face at this point.

“I didn’t ask.”

Turning your back to her and facing the peeling wall, you close your eyes and will yourself to sleep.

��Get up, you ass.” At least that is what you heard. Smacking your roommate’s hand that is pulling at your sheets away, you grunt as you press the pillow against your face, breathing in its scent.

“Dude, if you want to be late again I won’t disturb you anymore. See you.” The brown wooden door creaks open and she throws a pair of sandals on the ground. You sit up, groaning. Miss Park’s class is fun—she makes tons of jokes—but mornings aren’t your thing. Dragging yourself out of bed, you trudge over to the tiny bathroom and start washing up. With a toothbrush in your mouth, you stoop down and reach for your phone. You have exactly seven minutes before the start of the lecture. To your dismay, there are no texts from Jaehyun. You think back to what your roommate had said last night about him feeling the same towards you. Yeah, right.

When you miraculously make it to class (with only a minute to spare), your roommate is engaged in a conversation with someone she thinks is cute, so you don’t interrupt them. Instead, you opt to sit in the row just in front of them. Jaehyun walks into class a second later, his eyes widen and he smiles that damn dimpled smile when he spots you.

“Hey,” he says, throwing his notebooks on the table and sitting down next to you.

“Hey?” you say. “How are you doing on this particular day, if I may say so myself.”

Confused, he cocks his head to the side. “Good, I guess? What’s up?”

You smile bitterly, beginning to feel a little shitty. “Nothing.”

This moment Miss Park enters the room, and you can’t help but feel even more awful.

Miss Park’s jokes save the lecture from being soul-destroying. You feel a tad bit better when you realise you have no classes or lectures to attend for the rest of the day. Shoving your notes in your bag, you say nothing to anyone as you walk out of the room with a couple of other students.

“Y/N, wait.”

You whirl around, the fakest smile possible planted on your face. “Yes, Jaehyun?”

“I’ll be at dance practice for the rest of the day. So if you text me and get no reply, you know why.” He tugs at his bag straps, showing no signs of penitence.

You resist the urge to run up to him and smack him across the face. “Right. Have fun. Hope you don’t fall and break a bone.” Which translates to hope you fall and break a bone. Well, not really. Not really at all.

He looks at you like you’re some wacky clown on a unicycle. Firstly, how dare he look at you that way. Secondly, why not tell him it’s your birthday? Thirdly, no, because you don’t want to seem desperate. Fourthly, where exactly are you going with this?

Oh, and clowns are freaky.

So you spend the afternoon sitting in an ice cream shop, surrounding yourself with books. If you see yourself studying on your birthday two months ago, you would’ve laughed and probably cried at the same time. Never mind your roommate ditched you to go hang out with someone who you think is perhaps way more fun than you, but seriously? At least she wished you happy birthday, but you got nothing from Jaehyun. If you haven’t liked him in such a non-platonic way (you wish you did) you wouldn’t be feeling as valuable as a basket full of sticky candy wrappers.

Maybe you’d become a changed person, because you just spent four and a half hours studying. You can’t help but feel somewhat proud.

The sky is tinted pink, clouds almost like fluffy cotton candies just waiting to be eaten. The cool evening breeze rumples your hair, and you tilt your head up and inhale the smell of hot dog buns. The only thing you ate today was one pathetic scoop of cookies and cream ice cream. And maybe the cookie from this morning that’s most likely a week old.

You throw your bag onto a patch of grass and sit down beside it. The sky is so beautiful, you wish you were an artist moving a paintbrush professionally over an empty canvas, slowly bringing the sight before you to life. But the best you can do is to snap a picture of the wonders above. The pastel colours slowly melt away, turning sombre with silver speckles. You stand up and brush the grass off your bottom, hugging your bag to your chest.

You’re slogging down the almost empty path when you receive a text message.

Jaehyun 👀 hey where are you [8:58 PM]

You feel stupid when your heart skips a beat at this simple text. Suddenly hopeful (though a little sad, still), you type your response.

You near some ice cream shop [9:00 PM] why [9:00 PM]

Walking with your eyes glued to the screen, Jaehyun’s name pops up once again.

Jaehyun 👀 nothing. your roommate was getting worried [9:01 PM]

Scoffing, you reply.

You she has a phone [9:02 PM] and she’s probably making out with that guy in her calculus class [9:02 PM]

Jaehyun 👀 feisty [9:02 PM] she says screw you and what time are you coming back [9:03 PM]

Your stomach growls loudly, begging for attention and grub of any sort.

You gonna grab some food [9:05 PM] i guess around 9:30 ish? [9:05 PM]

There is no reply after that. You roll your eyes and shove your phone into your pocket. The convenience store nearby is closed despite the ‘open 24 hours’ sign hanging beside the sliding doors. You sigh in frustration. This will be you have to go to the convenience store near the dorms. It doesn’t sound that bad, but the food there tastes like prison food. Not that you tasted prison food before.

You make your way to the convenience store and bought a pack of macaroni and cheese, cringing at the soggy packaging.

As you make your way to the area you stay, you walk by the boys’ dorms. The building is dark, with the exception of a few rooms with the lights still on. You count the floors with your eyes and finger, stopping at a specific room. Jaehyun’s room is pitch-black. It can either mean he is still out practising, or that he has already fallen asleep. You don’t like the idea of any of the options. You sigh for the nth time today and resume with the journey back to your room.

As you stand in the lift, you look at the posters on the walls. A yawn escapes your mouth as the lift emits a soft ‘ding!’. The hallway is dark and frightening, you should get someone to repair the lights. Suddenly, you hear indistinctive mumbles. The stretch of corridor appear empty and you feel your heart beating faster. You’re totally gonna die at some point.

“Oh, shit!” Someone emerges from a room that looks undeniably like yours and your roommate’s. The figure disappears, and you run towards it. Because at this point, you simply ignore that this is how people usually die in movies.

When you see the flickering of tiny flames, it clicks. The lights are instantly turned on, party poppers exploding around you, and the classic birthday song (off-key singing) fills your ears.

Jaehyun stands in the centre holding a cake, attacking you with his dimpled smile. Your friends are squeezed against one another in this tiny room, and you swear your heart is swelling with happiness.

Donghyuck runs towards you after the song has ended and punches your arm—hard.

“Ouch! Dude, what was that for?” you yell, rubbing your arm and threatening to punch him back.

“Birthday punch,” he laughs, eyes sparkling with mischief.

“You were totally upset, weren’t you?” Jaehyun smirks. He coats his finger with some cake icing and smears it across your cheek.

“No!” you squeal. “And I wasn’t.”

“Yeah lying isn’t gonna help now, Y/N,” your roommate speaks, smearing more icing your face. The icing-smearing-competition starts after her last action, and everyone in the room soon looks like a ‘facial gone wrong’. Peals of laughter buzz through the room. You think for once you actually beat the room next door in being loud.

You sit on your bed, listening to them share their stories on how they planned this entire thing. The floor is littered with tiny squares of paper, and boy are you going to spend aeons cleaning up.

“I honestly thought you forgot, Jaehyun. What a jerk,” you say between munches on your slice of cake.

“That’s sad. I planned this. You should be saying ‘what a sweetheart’,” he grins at you, and you pretend to gag on your cake.

It’s getting late, and the boys file out of the room one by one, claiming they will be dead meat if they were to be caught.

“I’ll see you guys out.” Your roommate follows the guys out, leaving you alone with Jaehyun.

The door shuts softly, and Jaehyun turns to you, ears an adorable shade of pink. “I have a present for you, actually,” he says.

You’re the best present. You cringe at yourself. “What is it? You didn’t have to get me anything.”

“Close your eyes. And don’t freak out.”

“Okay…” Your eyes flutter shut.

“Promise you won’t freak out.”

“Geez, Jaehyun. I promise.”

The only thing you can hear and feel is Jaehyun’s rhythmic breathing. That feels way too close. Something soft touches your lips, and your insides scream “OH MY GOD!”

He moves his lips against yours, waiting, anticipating. Your hand reach up to cup his (sticky) face as you kiss him back. He runs his fingers through your hair, his other hand on your neck, the heat searing through your entire body. You are definitely freaking out.

He pulls away and you almost whimper at the loss of contact. “Happy birthday,” he says.

You’re leaning in when the door opens slowly, your roommate’s head popping in. “Are the two of you done? I’m frickin’ tired.”

Your face is without a doubt bright red. “Uh, yeah!” you reply with exaggerated enthusiasm.

Jaehyun grabs a piece of tissue paper from your desk and exits the room after giving your hand a gentle squeeze. Your roommate yawns as she stretches her arms.

“So how was your birthday?” she beams.

The digital clock reads 12:49.

“Best birthday. Ever.”

#nct #nct scenarios #nct u #nct 127 #jung jaehyun #jung yoonoh #jung jeffrey #jaehyun fluff #nct fluff #the extreme cheese #hi there #🎉🎈#wow this was actual shit

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butchstolemysweetroll · 7 years

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Tagged by @saxrohmerwon ages ago on my brief other blog and just noticed it, thanks bruh ily <3

Rules: Always post the rules, answer the questions given to you, then write 10 questions of your own, and tag some friends!

1. Favorite city (or town/small island/et cetera) in the world and why?

I guess it’d be Avalon. I basically spent every summer of my life there with family and it’s really small (only seven miles long) so you wind up going to the same few ice cream places or antique stores or pizza shops all the time but you never really get bored of it. The whole place has a quiet, old-timey shore town nostalgia to it too that’s super sweet. And like some of my all time favorite memories were staying on the beach until sunset when the lifeguards were gone so we could swim wherever we wanted, or climbing on the outfall pipe and walking to see how far out I was brave enough to go (it got “higher” ((read: the sand started to disappear)) the further out over the water you went), or walking on the beach at night. That was my favorite part, the nighttime. It’s weird how quiet but how alive everything got after dark, and I could hunt for ghost crabs or watch fireworks and the lights from town on the water, and the sand never bothered me as much when it was cool from the dark.

2. Describe your favorite scent/s.

Autumn, if that counts as a smell. But the combined scent of really brisk air and smoky burning leaves and fresh damp ones and hay and I guess plant life generally decaying, but in a sweet way? I also like flower smells obviously, and food smells, but those are boring to talk about. Gasoline, the specific kind of fake (cotton) paper money is printed on. Coffee. I’ve learned to kind of like the smell of cigarettes on clothes, because my boyfriend smokes and I like waking up in the sweater I wore the night before with that smell still on it. People have smells too. Like my mom smells like perfume even when she isn’t wearing any, and it’s nice. And babies smell rad and trigger ALL of my maternal impulses (cannot wait to reproduce, it’s gonna be gr8). And the boy smells really nice... Not even in like a what-deodorant-are-you-wearing kind of way but like skin and sweat and waking up warm in a cold house on Wednesday mornings. And when he comes home from work smelling like fresh cut grass and wet dirt it’s v nice.

3. Who is/was your favorite teacher and why?

My Romantic Lit professor currently, because he teaches exactly what I want to teach and I have a career crush on him. He’s also just super excitable and enthusiastic (let’s talk about that WEIRD weekend in Geneva the Shelleys took guys! Blake was an EDGELORD!) which I love.

I also had a professor at my old school who was super cool and helped me through a lot of shit? I took her personal essay class right as I was sort of in recovery for depression following a terrible, low key emotionally unhealthy (abusive? I still don’t know if I can use that word? Either way, OVER-SHARING YAY) romantic relationship and I explored that and a lot of other stuff pertaining to my childhood and relationships and discovering my queerness in my work for her class, and she was super supportive and involved in helping me experiment with new formats and really use writing as a therapeutic tool and it helped me heal a lot. She was also just a super cool lady (lots of tattoos and wispy blonde hair and a quiet voice, kind of a hipster fairy) who hung out with me at a local music festival in town when I was like fresh out of the hospital and having trouble being around my normal friends. She just always made sure her door was open and went out of her way to make me feel better, and to this day I appreciate that.

4. What is your favorite poem? (Substitute with “song” if you don’t have a favorite poem.)

Oh my GOD, don’t make me choose. I’m obsessed with the Romantics and a few contemporaries have my heart, but I guess I’d have to say “Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening” by Robert Frost. It’s just beautiful and hopeful and simple enough that tiny me could fall in love with it and appreciate it almost in its fullness when I was too young to grasp other works.

5. Weirdest thing you’ve ever heard out-of-context?

Ever? I don’t tend to remember stuff like that for a long time unless I’d like hypothetically overheard a murder or something, but last night some girl was walking back from our student center with her friends and angrily shouted that she wanted to “put her dong through a snare drum” which made me laugh.

6. Best concert experience? (If you have never been to a concert, what do you hope your first concert will be?)

Still gotta say Green Day after just turning 15 years old. I’d never been to a concert before and they were my favorite band at the time. I was so proud to be there because I had 0 dollars to my name and no one would hire me because I was underage, so I had to earn every penny for those tickets doing gross menial work like removing and scrubbing window frames that hadn’t seen soap in maybe a decade (SO MANY SPIDERS), and teeny bopper me thought that was 'punk.’ And at one point Billie Joe Armstrong, who my pathetic little emo self wanted to MARRY told the audience he was proud of everyone who’d worked their ass off to afford to come see them play and I remember turning to my dad and screaming “HE MEANS ME!” It was so wholesome.

7. Favorite holiday (or other special occasion) and why?

Christmas! My house was THE Christmas house growing up. My parents put so much effort into it and it was the cutest thing. Besides the outrageous amount of decorations and the amazing food that takes all week to make and the cute tradition of having my grandparents spend the night to watch us open presents first thing in the morning, the best part of Christmas growing up was definitely the effort my family put into making us kids believe Santa was real for way longer than necessary. One year my uncle got a flashlight and a red solo up and climbed trees in our yard so we’d see “Rudolph’s nose” if we looked out the window. We put out reindeer food every year. My dad would stomp around shaking jingle bells and someone always climbed on the roof making noise, and my mom knew calligraphy, so she’d write us scrolls from Santa on legit parchment and toast it in the oven so it would curl. One year we had an old, old family friend who was a Santa impersonator show up with a legit sleigh and a giant book with all the family member’s names and the years they were naughty and nice in it and stories about why and it was so cute. So whereas most kids found out around like 8 my parents went to extreme lengths so that I believed it until I was like 11 and honestly, I’m really glad they did, because it was a kick ass childhood. I definitely want to be that level of extra when I become a parent.

8. Did you ever play an instrument growing up? If so, how did it go for you?

Guitar, bass, after I learned guitar I could play pretty much anything pluckable with strings, so I had a Romanian lap harp (I was such a cool kid) and I would sometimes play my sister’s viola (often incorrectly and like a guitar, but it was fun to sample when I recorded stuff). I haven’t sang or touched an instrument in like seven years though. I kind of gave up after sad life stuff happened but I want to pick it back up again. I really miss music.

9. If you were given $100 today, what would you do with the money?

Use it toward Christmas presents for loved ones. Since I’m basically not allowed out of the house after I go home for break I have to do Christmas early with the friends and boyfriend.

10. What’s the scariest movie you have ever seen? (Define scary however you like.)

I love scary movies so this is hard, but I guess anything in which children are genuinely evil? Like not even in a supernatural way; it’s not horror but watching We Need To Talk About Kevin fucked me up. I guess being a mom is like so much something that I want, and imagining that happening would def keep me up at night. Especially because I would not know what to do.

Now, for questions:

1. What’s your favorite article of clothing?

Dresses but also plain black leggings. And I have very soft sweatpants that fit just right.

2. Do you still sleep with a stuffed animal?

Nope. I can’t sleep with the live one either lol, Bynx likes to sleep RIGHT where I want to roll over and screams and puts his paws in my mouth when he wants attention.

3. Do you believe in heaven? Hell?

Both, Catholic.

4. Do you listen to podcasts? What are your favorite ones?

Not really, but I’d like to, in theory. It just seems like more effort somehow than watching TV and I am always tired.

5. What was your go-to game during recess?

Four square.

6. Where do you see yourself in the next ten years– not in a job interview kind of way, but actually?

Awwww this is cute to think about. I guess I’d like to be living in like a really woodland but not isolating place, somewhere where my house can be on a lake or by woods or mountains but if I drive ten minutes there’s a cozy-sized town with all I need. Maybe in like Virginia or Vermont. I’m a professor of Gothic Literature at the local college, and my students are engaged and inspiring and call me by my first name. I’m in a pretty and not-too-big house, but it’s warm and smells like our fireplace. I’m married to my lovely guy, and both our jobs are flexible enough that we can have dinner as a family and spend time with our brood of kids. And they pay well enough that we might not be wealthy but we never have to worry. The cat’s still with us and we’ve got a dog, too. We go on camping trips and The Lumberjack teaches the kids how to build fires and tie knots and dad stuff like that. One of the kids at least loves reading and the house is full of books - I’ve got a home office full of bookshelves and a reading nook. We’ve got a porch where we can bundle up and drink wine in the evening after the kids are in bed. We’re not rich but not poor, and our families get along and come to visit. My parents still ask us over for Christmas every year. Wherever I teach, my kids can go there for free.

7. Do you have a favorite visual artist? Who are they?

Oh lord, I don’t know. I mean I like art but I hate the process of liking art. It’s so much more involved than “I like how this piece makes me feel” and I don’t enjoy that. I like individual pieces and I don’t know enough about art to really speak on it.

I guess, though, I like Dali and Khalo as people. They seem unpretentious and fun. Which is surprising because I guess the way their work is talked about you’d think the opposite.

8. Do you really like a food that most people think is disgusting? Or, do you like a popular food to a disgusting degree?

Not really but like I put too much hot sauce / jalapenos on everything and it disgusts people. And I put way too much sugar in coffee, and creamer too.

9. What music did your parents play in the house/car?

My mom is a New Wave junkie like me and my dad had more complicated taste. He was never big into music, so he only really likes a few artists for their voices and some songs for nostalgia. So we listened to a lot of oldies and swing and Judy Garland, but he also loved Blondie and Boston.

10. What would you tell your 15-year-old self?

I’d tell her she’s a lot stronger than she’s going to think she is one day and to tough it out. That people love her and will love her. That when you get older, family is hard, but it’s worth it to work on things. That she’s smarter than she thinks she is and should try harder in school, because when she finally does have faith in herself, it’ll pay off.

Tagging whoever else wants to do this - it’s cold and rainy (here at least) and we could all use a day of warm socks and procrastinating with asks, honestly.

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