“Miss Jennie, Miss Jennie, do me!” Courtney bounced up and down, flapping a page of newsprint in front of my face.

“You’re next,” I told her. “Let me finish Kevin.” I studied his chubby face across the drawing table, so angelic, but with that devilish twinkle in his eye. The mouth wasn’t quite

right; the upper lip was crooked.

“Miss Jennie. Miss Jennie.”

Judy placed a hand on my shoulder. “You have a line forming,” she said.

I glanced over at Courtney, then behind her, where a bunch of kids were clutching pages of blank newsprint as fast as Mrs. Ruiz could tear them from a tablet.

“This is really good, Jennie,” Judy said, examining my drawing. “I never knew you were an artist.”

“Neither did I,” I admitted.

“Lemme see.” Kevin grabbed the sheet from under my pencil lead and held it in front of his face. Lowered it. His eyes grew wide as waffles. “Aw. sweet!” he cried.

It made me laugh. Made Judy laugh, too. “Next victim,” I called.

***

Mom was in the basement ironing when I floated down the stairs. I lifted Ella from her baby seat and tossed her into the air. She squealed. Mom scowled at me. Uh-oh.

“Look at this,” she growled, holding up one of Hwa’s black T-shirts. DANTE was emblazoned on the front between licks of fire. On the back it read:

There is no light save from that perfect peace

Which never is clouded: it is else darkness,

Shadow of the flesh, or poison of its disease.

(Paradiso)

Mom asked, “What does that mean?”

“I have no idea,” I said.

“It sounds obscene.” She balled up the tee and dumped it in the trash. “I wish you’d talk to her, Jennie. Tell her how ridiculous she looks. Get her off this Goth kick. It’s not normal.”

“I can’t. We don’t inhabit the same planet.”

Mom shook her head. “I can’t imagine what people think of her. Don’t they make fun of her at school?”

“Not really.” Because we have that anti-bullying policy that fosters peace and love in our hearts.

Mom went on, “She looks like a character out of a B movie, with all that makeup and those clothes.”

I huffed a little. “No, she doesn’ t. She’s just expressing herself. It’s a free country.” Don’t ask me why I was defending Hwa.

“Woo Bin’s embarrassed to even take her to his parents’ house anymore. He thinks his dad’ll have a stroke if Hwa walks in there dressed like the grim reaper."

It was time to change the subject. “Can I throw my suit in the dryer?" I set Ella down in her seat and removed two clammy Speedos from my duffel, along with the damp towel they were wrapped in. Tossed everything in the machine, then lifted the baby seat and lugged it to my room.

Mom appeared a few minutes later. She stacked a pile of clean clothes at the foot of my bed and said, “I took the liberty of RSVPing the governor's dinner invitation."

“Mom." I bristled. “I wouldʼve done it."

“When? A week before the dinner?"

No, the afternoon of.

"Hopefully by March youʼll know where youʼre going next year. I'm sure the governor will ask."

Him, too? There was no escape.

Mom paused in the doorway. “I thought I should warn you, Hwa’s coming tonight and spending the rest of the week. Her mother has to go out of town on business." Mom lingered, surveying my room. “Woo Bin and I were thinking about converting the basement into a home office this summer. Setting up a desk and a computer. We’ll need to enclose Hwa’s area, maybe move her in here. Or lock her in.” She smiled. "What do you think?"

I blinked at her. “I think on my way out you shouldn’t forget to slam the door on my ass."

"Oh, Jennie.” She clucked at me. "You take everything so personally."

***

I didn’t want to go to Rosie’s PA program alone and I wasn't about to ask Kai. I called Chu.

“Hey, Jennie.” She sounded cheery. “I'm glad you called. I missed you at lunch."

"Yeah, Kai and I are working on this leadership conference." Which I didn’t want to think about. “How are you?"

“Good," she said. “We never get to talk anymore. Remember when we had sleepovers every weekend? We never do that any more."

"I know,” I said. “We should."

“Nayeon's coming over later to have me trim her hair. If you came over too, you guys could spend the night, since we don’t have school tomorrow."

“I can’t," I told her. "I’m… busy.” Crap. I couldn’t invite both of them. I wasn’t sure I would’ve invited Nayeon, anyway. She wasn’t my favorite person these days. "I just called to say hi. See how you were. Uh-oh. My battery light’s flashing. I'm fading out here. I’Il call you tomorrow.” I hung up. Damn. Now I’d have to go alone.

I flopped on the bed, scanning my closet. What does one wear to an evening of performance art? I heard Hwa drag in, her suitcase scudding across the floor. She exhaled disgust. "Hey, Hwa." I bounced to my feet. "You want to go to this performance art thing with me tonight?” I rounded the partition to her space.

She looked as if she’d been strangled by a boa, her eyes bulged out so far. “Are you joking?” Her voice dulled. “Or is your mom putting you up to this?"

“No. She doesn't know about it. I have two tickets, so I thought you and I…"

“Where’s Kai?" she asked.

“Busy," I lied. “Everybody’s busy." Did that sound like she was my last resort? Yes. “Okay, I don’t want to go alone," I confessed. "I mean, I could but…” I smiled sheepishly. "I’m a coward. I hate to do stuff alone. If you don’t want to go, that’s fine." I headed back, praying, Please, please say you will.

“All right," she said.

I retraced my steps. "Have you ever been to one of these things?"

“PA?” She gnawed on her little pinkie. “Yeah, lots of times." Spit out a cuticle.

“So, what do I wear?"

Her expression didn’t change. “Goth stuff,” she said. “I'll loan you a crucifix."

I stared at her. Then burst into laughter. She was either the funniest person on Earth or I was losing it.

***

It took me over an hour to find the Rogue Theater. The building was wedged between two nondescript tenement houses in the downtown warehouse district. “Lock your door," I ordered Hwa. Check your mace.

A few people milled around outside, smoking and drinking wine from disposable glasses. They were not what you’d call the“theater crowd,” whatever that was. No furs or formal wear. More like grunge. Hwa must’ve felt right at home. My stomach was jumpy, as if everyone else knew the rules of the game except me. The usher smiled a warm welcome and asked us to sign the guest book, which calmed me a little.

There was a small concession stand right inside the door with popcorn and candy and drinks. Hwa made a beeline for it, but I snagged her trenchcoat and said, “Let’s find seats first."

The theater was old, shabby, semi retired. The velvet seat cushions had seen another century. It was comfortable, though, and people were chatting and laughing softly. I read the program cover:

The Rogue Theater Presents:

A Night of Sensory Pleasure.

God, was this X-rated? The inside page listed six acts, and I scanned through them, trying to glean even a hint of the pleasures we had in store for us. “Singing with Cats" was the first act. Then “Virtual Virgins," "Synchro Nuts," "Aphrodisium," "Unity,” and “Canned Laughter.” I glanced over at Hwa. She was watching me. I hated the way she stared at people, at me. “You know any of these groups?” I asked her.

“Hunh uh,” she grunted, peering back at the concession stand.

I dug in my bag for my billfold. “Here." I handed her a ten. She scrambled out and I called down the aisle at her back, "No alcohol." A guy with a shaved head behind me winked. I shrank in my seat.

There was a page of advertisements, pleas for financial support, thanks to all the people instrumental in staging the show. Hwa returned with a bag of popcorn and a glass of red wine.

Shit. “Do you have a fake ID?" I asked her.

“Yeah, but they didn’t ask. You want some?” She offered me the glass.

“No." I visualized myself confined with her in a jail cell. Shudder City. On the last page were the names of the performers. My eyes skimmed down the list, stopped. Joanie Young. Why did that name sound familiar? She was a member of Unity. There, under Joanie was Rosie’s name. “She’s in Unity, too."

“Huh?" Hwa said.

Did I verbalize that? “My friend. Sheʼs in this group, Unity."

“Who?” Hwa hung over my arm.

“Rosie. Rosé Park.” I pointed to the name.

“Oh, yeah. I know her."

“How?"

Hwa took a sip of wine. Savoured it, just to irk me. “She's in my independent living class."

“What period?”

Hwa blinked at me. “Third. Why?"

The lights dimmed and I shifted my attention to the stage. Independent living? That was a bullshit class. A spotlight illuminated dead center and a woman dressed in a gauzy full-length garment floated out from the wings. There was scattered applause. She folded her hands in front of her and waited. Waited. Through hidden speakers a cat suddenly wailed. The sound as saluted my ears and I squinted them together. The screeching ebbed a bit, then the woman opened her mouth and yowled with the cat. In harmony.

Whoa, it was… interesting. I mean, I couldn't do that.

Hwa murmured in my ear, “Do not try this at home."

I whipped her knee.

"Do not attempt this in a dark alley at night.’

“Quit."

“Especially if you’re horny."

I couldnʼt stifle my snort. Virtual Virgins was a light-and-shadow show, which was sensual, all right. I kept trying to figure out if the three women behind the screen were really naked. Synchore Nuts was this eerie musical group that used electronic sounds and digitised voices. Aphrodisiac was totally X-rated. Hwa kept murmuring, “Ooh eee," and panting. I kept elbowing her.

The stage lights extinguished and the theater went black. Unity was next. My heart raced. A small floor light illuminated and a face appeared, followed by another beside it, and another until five faces stared out into the audience. Each face was made up to look exactly the same. But I could pick out Rosie. The middle one. Together, they began to move, or rather undulate because, I realised, they were all one form. One giant octopus-like creature inside stretchy black fabric.

This sort of New Age music swirled softly from the stereo speakers as Unity pulsed in a circle. Then the music changed, became more strident, discordant. Each form broke off by unzipping their connection to the fabric and stepping out. They wore different pastel-colorer bodysuits with hoods. Rosie was yellow.

The beat pounded faster and the individuals, who were so serene moments before, began to jerk and writhe in agony. Rosie opened her mouth, but no sound came out. I felt a chill race up my spine. This was no act. She was hurt.

It went on for excruciating minutes. I couldn't watch. I had to watch. She mesmerized me. On cue, they all touched hands in the middle, their pain subsiding. The music grew slower, gentler, and the individuals moved toward the center, toward each other. Closer and closer until they were squeezed together tightly into one form, one unit, one multicoloured being.

The audience clapped and stomped and I let out the breath I’d been holding. Hwa arched her eyebrows at me and said, “Cool."

“Really.”

After the show everyone congregated in the lobby, waiting to congratulate the performers. I spotted Rosie with her fellow Unity members, laughing and jabbering, her face more animated than I'd ever seen it.

I weaved through the crowd to get to her. Be with her. Rosie obviously knew a lot of these people; they kept hugging her and calling to her. An unexpected bout of self-consciousness seized me.

Rosie’s eyes met mine and her face seemed to light up. She weaved through people, under arms and wine glasses. “You were fabulous," I told her when we met in the middle. I had the strongest urge to throw my arms around her, embrace her, but my muscles wouldn’t move. I sensed she wanted to hug me, too. She didn’t, and the spontaneity of the moment passed awkwardly between us.

She glanced over my shoulder, searching.

“He’s not here," I said.

She smiled. Smiled broader. "Did you really like it?” she asked.

“Yeah. It was fantastic. Hypnotic. Mesmerizing.'

She blinked at me. “Did you understand it?"

“I, I think so. About the birth and breaking away and being alone. How painful alone can be. And then coming back together, being one. Being Unity. And the joy in that.” I hesitated. "Right? Is that it?"

Another slow smile crept across her lips and up into her eyes. “It's whatever you want it to be.” Her focus shifted to something, someone beside me. “Hey, girlfriend." Rosie flung her arms around Hwa. "How are you?"

Why hadn’t she hugged me?

“Good," Hwa answered. "You were awesome."

“Thanks.” Rosie’s smile lit up the room again. She embraced Hwa for a second time. “Hwa, this is Jennie,” she said. “Jennie, Hwa."

We both snorted.

Rosie looked from Hwa to me. "What?"

“She’s my sister." Hwa thumbed.

"Stepsister," I corrected.

"No way," Rosie said.

“Way," Hwa responded.

"Wild." Rosie shook her head. “Small world.”

“Too small," Hwa stole my line.

Another girl from Unity touched Rosie’s shoulder. “Chaengie, we're going out back for a smoke. You want to come?"

“No," Rosie said. "I quit."

The girl's eyebrows shot up. "You did? When? You didn’t tell me that.” The girl met my eyes and smiled. "Hi." She extended her hand. “I'm Joanie."

As I reached to shake it, Rosie slapped down Joanie’s arm.

“Well, thanks for coming guys," Rosie said quickly, pivoting to push Joanne back into the crowd, away from us. From me.

What was that about? I was hoping Rosie would invite us – me – to join them – her. Or something. Anything. I didn’t want to leave.

“Iʼm starving," Hwa said. “Those Canned Laughter dudes with the pork and beans made me hungry. Could we stop at Wendy’s?"

Watching Rosie hug another girl, I turned away and said, "Yeah, sure, why not."