All the Small Things
“What is the supposed point of this holiday again?” Héloïse asked as she slowly tore another section of tape from the dispenser and passed it up to Sophie.
Sophie made an exasperated tsking noise as she took the tape and reached up above her head to apply it to the edge of the shimmering green shamrock. “The point,” she said as she braced herself against the wall and pulled the corner tighter, “is to be drunk.”
Héloïse sighed and steadied her friend with a hand in her lower back, “they do realize that no one outside of America celebrates St. Patrick’s Day right?”
“H we are in America and we haven’t been to a party all semester.” Sophie retorted.
“That is because frat boys are disgusting and Freshman ruin everything.” Sophie rolled her eyes so hard she almost fell off the chair. “Oh come on!” Héloïse argued playfully, “that is the truth no matter what continent you are on.”
Sophie didn’t dignify her comment with a response so Héloïse picked up another line of complaint instead, “Why are we the ones hanging decorations again?”
Sophie leaned back to inspect her work, nodded, and climbed down from the chair. She placed both her hands on Héloïse’s shoulders and looked at her friend with squinted eyes. “We are hanging decorations because we agreed as a house to host this thing and also that those who stock and set up do not have to clean up.”
She walked over to the coffee table piled with more decorations waiting to be hung and started twisting green and gold streamers together, “and in the grand scheme of things running to the liquor store and hanging a few shamrocks is the FAR superior task when compared to fishing solo cups out of the bushes and mopping up what one can only hope is beer in the morning so please, less complaining and more taping.”
—-
“Try again”
It had been echoing in Marianne’s mind for days. Such a simple phrase. Two words turned into a gauntlet by flaming eyes and a barely-there smile. Marianne had tried dozens of songs and listened to hundreds more, but nothing felt right for the woman on fire. She just kept hearing “try, try, try again.” Over and over on an endless loop.
She pulled her guitar out of her lap, the strings making a jarring, discordant sound as her fingers shoved the instrument further away. She stuffed her hands into her hair and she scratched her scalp absently. ‘Think,’ she willed herself ‘think.’ She dragged her arms slowly down to rest her elbows on her knees and pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes until she saw colorful spots.
Her door creaked open, “You alright?” Melanie asked.
“Merne-flerfl,” Marianne grunted from behind her hands.
Melanie was quiet for a long moment as she took in the discarded guitar and the puddle that was Marianne. “Get dressed.” She said in a tone that would allow no argument, “we’re going to a party.”
—-
Héloïse was people-watching in the great room, there was no other word for it. She watched as wave after wave of partygoers stepped up to the Beerio Kart challenge by claiming a remote, but she hardly ever looked at the screen. She watched instead as friends shit-talked and couples cuddled and singles flirted. The room was usually her sanctuary, full of bean bags piled up under large windows with calming guitar music tumbling out of the soundbar, but the scene now was the polar opposite of a sanctuary. The converted garage was overflowing with college kids well on their way to drunk lounging across chairs crowded into a U shape around the large wall mounted tv and the sound of the game was clashing gloriously thumping music and shouts from the backyard.
Héloïse was nursing a drink that was thankfully NOT green and sitting in her favorite corner seat trying not to brood. She wore high-waisted black jeans with tears in the knees and thighs and her trusty Doc Martens. The green crop top she had found at the rerun store proclaimed in bold white letters “Don’t kiss me I’m not Irish.” It wasn’t that she didn’t like parties per se, just that she didn’t know enough people to be swept up in the mayhem.
Another race finished and the boy that won by chugging his entire beer at the outset and then knocking several competitors off the edges of the track as he passed them threw his fists in the air and whooped loudly. His friends took sucker punches at his exposed sides and the large couch devolved into a mini WWE match for several seconds before the boys surfaced laughing raucously. The loser was given a shot of fireball and all 4 competitors were relieved of their remotes and swept off the couch.
Héloïse scanned the room nervously as people rearranged themself around the tv. Sophie had been sitting by her side, shamelessly encouraging those who lived in the house to crush their guests, but she had left during the second lap for another drink and now Héloïse worried that someone else might take her place.
Three of the four remotes had already been claimed when Sophie finally walked back through the green tinsel laden doorway. Héloïse relaxed taking another sip of her drink, but perhaps she had celebrated too soon; Sophie was turning and calling to someone over her shoulder that was still obscured by the tinsel. At first, a hand was all that could be seen, reaching out to draw the strands to one side, and then the person stepped into the room. It was Marianne. Héloïse inhaled sharply and beer tickled the back of her nose causing her to collapse into a fit of involuntary coughs.
Everyone in the room seemed to be staring at her and she vaguely registered the look of surprise on Marianne’s face through the tears that had sprung to her eyes. “You alright there H?” (Kat)herine asked, reaching across the side table to place a concerned hand on her upper arm. Héloïse couldn’t manage more than a nod through the coughing, but it seemed enough to satisfy her housemate.
Sophie shooed Marianne toward the last spot on the couch facing the tv and pressed the final controller into her hand insistently while Héloïse attempted to regain her composure. She was surprised to find she had an uncomfortable feeling in her chest that had nothing to do with the coughing and everything to do with disappointment that Marianne had not sat next to her. For the first time all week, she regretted how hard she had knocked the other woman down at their last meeting and wondered if she should have softened her position to make a better first impression. Sophie plopped down beside her and Héloïse leaned over to hiss in her ear, “Did you know she was coming?”
“No,” Sophie answered through a Cheshire grin she didn’t bother to hide, “but I am very happy about it since you won’t shut up about her.”
“Quiet!” Héloïse scolded in a voice that was anything but. She glanced at Marianne, but the other woman either hadn’t heard or was choosing to ignore them. Her features were delicate like an old-school silver screen movie star and Héloïse easily got caught up in staring. Marianne was wearing sinfully short cut off denim shorts and a loosely fitting cream-colored shirt with rainbow piping around the neck. She had set her closed beer on the table and was tapping buttons experimentally on the remote as the boy next to her explained the controls. Her look of concentration was making Héloïse’s heart do acrobatics.
(Dom)inique had finished pouring the new penalty shot and was calling for the attention of the next wave of players. “Okay the rules are simple: (1) you may not open your beer until the first countdown number appears on the screen (2) you must finish your beer completely before your character crosses the finish line and (3) you must put the remote down on the table before picking up your drink; because drinking and driving is against the law.” There was a chorus of chuckles that answered the last rule. “Oh,” she added as an afterthought, “and whoever comes in last takes the penalty shot, house rule!”
There were claps and cheers from the onlookers and a rather loud, “thanks gonna be you dude!” directed at the boy sitting next to Kat from his buddy on his other side.
“Alright racers here we- wait, wait a minute.” Dom had been scanning the players about to race when her eyes settled on Marianne, “you’re not wearing any green.”
Marianne looked down at herself as if to confirm this fact then back at Dom, “am I supposed to be wearing green?”
“Well yes,” Dom answered, a sly look crossing her face as she took a step toward Marianne, slowly untying the green and gold handkerchief around her wrist as she walked, “It is St.Patrick's Day and there are consequences if one does not wear green.”
“Consequences?” Marianne asked, sounding more amused than concerned, “what kind of consequences?”
The uncomfortable feeling returned to Héloïse’s chest as she considered the very real possibility that Marianne had not given her a second thought since their meeting on Wednesday, that rather than ruminating in the nature of love and trying to devise a scheme to win over the hard-to-get girl Marianne had instead written her off as someone not worth the trouble.
Dom stalked closer to Marianne, shaking the handkerchief loose and drawing it between her fingers, “Well, traditionally the offender is pinched by all who notice their shortcoming, but I can save you from that fate. For a price?” Her voice picked up on the last syllable turning the statement into a question as she raised an eyebrow.
Marianne grinned in response, reaching up to twist the handkerchief around her first two fingers, “How about a kiss for payment?” She tugged gently on the handkerchief as she spoke and Dom dropped onto her lap, one knee on either side of Marianne’s hips. Dom’s hand not holding the handkerchief connected with the back of the couch and kept her upright as she looked down at her prey.
“Funny that’s exactly what I had in mind,” Dom said just before she crashed their lips together. It started slow, but deep like Dom was testing how into it Marianne actually was. The answer must have been very, because to Héloïse’s horror the intensity of the kiss increased like someone had spun a dial all the way up. She wanted to look away but it was impossible, like being faced with a horrible car crash or a burning building.
Dom threaded the handkerchief behind Marianne’s neck, pulling her forward by it as they continued to kiss. Marianne ran her hands up Dom’s thighs and chased her lips while the other woman tied the kerchief in a loose knot around her neck. Dom placed her hands on Marianne’s face, holding her gently in place as she pulled away.
Héloïse saw red and heard Kill Bill sirens blaring in her ears.
—-
Marianne deliberately did not look to her left. She was not sure what expression Héloïse would be wearing after the kiss but she knew whether it was indifference, anger, jealousy, or heartbreak it would haunt her as all of her other looks had. So she kept her eyes on the screen, placed her hands on her beer, and waited for the countdown to begin.
When the 3 appeared on screen she popped the tab and threw her head way back taking 4 long pulls and draining more than half the beer before finally lowering the can and grabbing her remote. As she took in the screen she realized she was already behind half the field in seventh place. She slammed her thumb into the accelerator and glanced at the other players’ squares; 3rd, 5th, and 11th. Okay, she wasn’t last. She could come back from 7th, she just needed to finish her beer, and then she could fuck shit up.
The race passed in a blur as she gained and lost ground on the whim of shells and lightning bolts. She finished her beer and flipped the empty can in a small spiral through the air as her character drifted through a jump. It didn’t land upright on the table, but she still enjoyed the illustration to the other players that she was done and was happy to see that it distracted both of the boys. She picked up her remote a final time and jammed the item button igniting the mushroom power-up and zooming ahead. She could taste victory when out of nowhere a blue shell crashed into her character. “Nooo.” She gasped flowing it up with a string of French expletives. She repeatedly tapped the accelerator willing it to respond and watched as her character bounced agonizingly slowly over the finish line. Marianne was stunned to find that Kat had actually passed her during the blue shell explosion and finished 1st. “Nice race!” She shouted across the boys between them that were still trying to finish their final lap. “Do you play often?”
Kat tore her eyes away from Dom who she had been grinning at with pride and said, “yeah, I live here, so you could say that.”
“Well it was impressive,” Marianne said, “this was my only game growing up and so I am accustomed to winning.”
Kat laughed, “well it wasn’t my only game but it was my favorite. Nintendo 64?”
“Mmm yes exactly. Want to go again?”
“Nah, it’s best to take a break between rounds unless you want to get fucked real fast.” Marianne’s eyes flicked to Héloïse involuntarily. ‘I might not be opposed to that,’ she thought, but thankfully was able to keep from vocalizing this thought. She noticed that Héloïse’s cup was slightly crumpled in her right hand and that she wore a lopsided frown as she played with the strings of her ripped jeans that crossed her left knee. Before Marianne could think of anything to say to her, however, the boys finally finished the race and immediately lept to their feet, cutting off Marianne’s line of sight. They started making loud excuses about the characters they were stuck with and how much they’d already had to drink, but Dom was unrelenting and presented the one closer to Marianne with the penalty shot, which he took grudgingly before the boys stormed back through the tinsel curtain.
“Got anything for me, darling?” Kat asked Dom with desire in her eyes.
“Mmm no shot for the winner, maybe you should lose on purpose one of these days,” Dom said with a wink.
“It’s not a shot I’m after.” Kat countered.
Dom just laughed, shaking her head as she walked away.
“Hate to see her go, but love to watch her leave,” Kat muttered to Marianne.
“Women.” Marianne agreed, resisting the urge to look at Heloise again,” I hope I didn’t get in your way there?”
“No, no, I’ve been trying to convince her to go out with me for YEARS. She was sure she was straight when we first met and then after her ‘gay awakening’ she decided my heart eyes were a little too much. One day though-“ Katherine picked up her beer, forgetting it was empty, rattled the empty can and made a face before setting it back down, “one day she’ll come around.”
Just then Melanie poked her head into the room, “Hey losers,” she shouted, “come play filp cup!”
—-
Flip cup went horribly for Marianne. She was placed at the front of the line and found herself draining 5 cups before her side was finally able to win a round and excuse themselves from the table. Héloïse watched her from the other side of the bonfire, unable to bring herself to go closer. After making her escape Marianne came down off the deck to the fire as well but she stayed on the other side content to chat with Kat and make meaningful, or not meaningful, eye contact with Héloïse across the flames.
Before long they were all summoned back to the deck for a round of slap cup. An entire case of Whiteclaw was emptied into the cups at the center of the table and the taller, plastic stein in the middle was filled with green “jungle juice” from the punch bowl and a disturbing amount of extra shots.
Slap cup also did not go well for Marianne. It seemed like everyone that one-shotted their cup was passing it back to her. Héloïse lost count of the cups she had to drink to keep the game going and was alarmed to see Marianne’s skill slipping. She started steadying herself with her free hand and diving wildly after the ball when she missed, which was happening more and more frequently. Finally, the game was down to two cups in the middle and the balls had been separated from one another. Héloïse was thanking the party gods for this turn of luck when Melanie allowed the ball to bounce off the table. She dove underneath to collect it but moved too slowly. The other cup caught up to her. She sunk the ball on her next shot and passed the cup to Dom just before the next cup was passed to her. She one-shotted and laughed gleefully as she slapped the other cup from in front of Dom, “I guess we finally know who the better sister is.” She teased.
“Shut up,” Dom said as she grabbed the second to last cup from the center. “I could have gotten you just as bad if our positions were switched, now are you gonna pass that cup on or just stand there looking stupid?”
“Shit,” Melanie said before setting the cup and ball down in front of Marianne.
“Eh! No!” Marianne exclaimed as she fished the ball out of the cup and began trying to bounce it in.
Dom finished draining her cup and lined up the shot. One bounce- over. Second bounce- in. She slapped the cup in front of Marianne and the whole table burst into explosive celebration at the thrilling end to the game.
Héloïse watched Marianne cover her face in despair. She was handed the death cup, green punch sloshing over the edges. Marianne looked slightly green herself and tried to reason with Kat, Sophie, and the sisters as they demanded that she chug it. Héloïse bit her lip and tried to keep to herself, but she knew how her friends could be and felt honor-bound to intervene.
“Hey tiger, why don’t you wait on that for a bit and help me get this party going?”
“Init already going?” Marianne asked with only a slight slur to her speech. Their shoulders bumped, Héloïse leaned into the touch offering support. “Yeah it's going, but we can turn it up to 11.”
“Hold up H,” Kat said, “you know the house rules, she's gotta chug it!”
“I’ll make you a deal,” Heloise said, “You bend the rules, let her sip it, and I’ll sing. Unless you’d rather mop up green vomit?”
Kat gave Marianne a long look up and down as if trying to weigh how likely it was that she would actually vomit then pursed her lips, “You’d actually sing?”
“If you’re singing I’m playing,” Marianne chimed in.
This made Kat chuckle and seemed to make up her mind for her, “okay I’ve got to see that, deal.”
Héloïse let out a short breath as if steeling herself against what she had just agreed to do. “Okay you grab chairs and I’ll go get my guitar.”
“Two guitars!” Marianne ordered, sloshing more of the death cup’s contents onto the deck.
“Great idea! I’ll get mine too.” Sophie said.
“Not helping,” Héloïse scolded her friend as they rushed inside.
“What faster way is there to fall in love than to sing together?” Sophie asked, wagging her eyebrows at Héloïse, “I am TOTALLY helping.”
When they returned to the deck minutes later Marianne was sitting in a folding white chair, sipping slowly from the death cup, eyes glassy, gazing toward the fire.
Héloïse hooked her acoustic/electric guitar up to the speakers already set up on the deck and settled into the second chair.
“You had a Fender and you played ukulele!? You’ve been holding out on me!” Marianne exclaimed making grasping motions in the air with her arms fully extended toward Sophie’s guitar.
“Yes I do have Fender, now swear to me you won’t drop it.”
“I’m cool, I’m cool,” Marianne assured, straightening her posture. Sophie lowered the instrument into her lap gingerly and started hooking it up, Marianne already picking at the strings testing the sound. She hummed her approval and started riffing a few songs. Héloïse found herself thinking ‘swoon.’
“Marianne,” she called softly. The other woman's eyes snapped to her and her fingers stilled on the guitar, “what is your favorite song? Something you could play forward and backward in your sleep.”
“Marianne” the woman repeated her own name thoughtfully, “you know what I’ve just realized?” She started playing a Shawn Mendes melody as she spoke:
And I don't even know your name
All I remember is that smile on your face
And it'll kill me every day
'Cause I don't even know your name
Ooh everywhere that I go
I'll see your face and it kills me to know
That you never know what you did to me
And now you were gone, yeah I can't stop thinkin' about you
Marianne struck the last notes of the chorus harshly and stilled the strings tilting the headstock of the guitar toward Héloïse as she finished. The partygoers exploded with “ooh shit”s and “dayyyyyyumn”s.
“You’ve been thinking about me huh?” Héloïse asked.
“But you’re never gonna know that,” Marianne quipped as she rolled a bit in her chair bringing a finger to her lips in a shushing motion.
Héloïse laughed, ‘okay, she thought, okay let’s do this.’ She started plucking a new favorite of hers by Liv Dawson:
So you’ve been think about me
'Cause I've been thinking about you
To be honest, baby, it's the only thing I've been up to
I told you the truth
I like you, I like you
Let me throw my arms around you
'Cause I can't hold it in anymore
All night I've been hiding from you
I won't make the same mistake as before
I don't want to wake up in the morning
Think of all the things I could have said tonight
Guess I'm gonna say it to you right now-
I like you, I like you
She stilled her own strings leaning her guitar back toward Marianne in turn. The other woman was grinning from ear to ear. The crowd around them was laughing and clapping overjoyed by the exchange.
“I like you, I like you,” Marianne mimicked the dictation of the song then added, “you still haven’t told me your name.”
“You still haven’t told me your favorite song.”
“Mmm,” Marianne hummed nonchalantly. “Name first.”
“Driiiiink!” Kat hollered from the sidelines. Marianne reached down and took a sip from the death cup, making a truly horrendous face in response. She set it gently back down on the deck. Raising her hands into the hair like an athlete amping up the crowd. They happily obliged by cheering a whooping.
“Name.” Marianne said again firmly.
“Héloïse, my name is Heloise.”
“Héloïse? Then why do your friends call you H?”
“More!” shouted the partygoers, “play more!”
Héloïse shook her head and said, “because my friends aren’t French, except for Sophie of course. Now, your favorite song?”
Marianne crumpled her face as if contemplating the reasoning behind the nickname was the most important thing in the world, but the crowd was restless so Héloïse turned away from Marianne and called out, “Does anyone have a cup?” Then started tapping out the beat of ‘the cup song’ on the body of her guitar.
There were cheers and many people chugged their drinks to free up their cups so that htey could join in. “I got my ticket for the long way 'round- Two bottle 'whiskey for the way. And I sure would like some sweet company and I'm leaving tomorrow, wha-do-ya say?.” Héloïse began.
Marianne started strumming the melody and cut in, “When I'm gone, When I'm gone, You're gonna miss me when I'm gone.”
Héloïse continued tapping out the beat and they weaved their voices in and out of each other as the song progressed. When they finished Marianne laughed, “that was a good one, but I thought you said we were turning it up to 11?”
“Oh not rock and roll enough for you?” Héloïse asked playfully, “What do you have in mind?”
Without further ado, Marianne started strumming a rhythm. “Really?” Héloïse asked, “Blink 182?”
Marianne started banging her head, tossing her short hair around before looking back at Héloïse, “Whatza matter can’t keep up?”
Héloïse sucked on her teeth to hide a smile, adjusted a few of the electronics on her guitar and jumped in with the lyrics perfectly in time with Marianne:
All the small things
True care truth brings
I'll take one lift
Your ride, best trip
Always I know
You'll be at my show
Watching, waiting
Commiserating
Say it ain't so, I will not go
Turn the lights off, carry me home
Na-na, na-na, na-na, na-na, na, na
Sophie finally turned away from the impromptu jam sesh walking down the check on the bonfire. If their first child wasn’t named after her she was going to sue.