Chapter 28
When the door of the camp van slides shut, Marlene feels a key turn inside her chest, locking away the taste of heaven—and maybe a little bit of hell—that Hogwarts gave her this summer.
It’s a bad habit, shoving padlocks on her past, but one that’s necessary too, like a lock on a bridge laden with two ex-lovers’ initials, better left forgotten. These safes separate Marlene’s mind into untouchable memories, and maybe she’ll open them when she needs a reaction for a scene, or on those special midnights where memory lane seems a suitable torture—until then, it’s best that they remain sealed.
Only Marlene can feel the key getting stuck, fighting the twist. She doesn’t want to leave this behind.
But she doesn’t have a choice.
“Who’s on aux?” Peter asks from the driver’s seat.
Remus tsks, already plugging in his phone at the front.
“Do you have a charger, Pete?” Dorcas asks.
Save their days off, none of the staff use their phones, the service and limited outlets too big a hassle to try and stay in touch—or, in Marlene’s case, the time disconnected too great a temptation to resist.
Marlene pulls out her dead phone from her backpack, and, without saying anything, Dorcas takes the cord Peter offers and plugs in Marlene’s phone first. “I’m sure you’ve got five photos of your cats from your mom,” they tease.
“My cats can wait, you don’t need to call your grandma?”
“I will at the airport.” Dorcas shrugs with a small smile.
Marlene feels her heart take a tumble, bruises spreading across her too-fragile skin. Dorcas will be kind and caring until the bitter end because that’s just who she is. That’s the person Marlene fell in love with.
Marlene’s gaze lingers on Dorcas’, the empty middle seat between them much too small, much too large. It’s impossible to sit this close and not reach over and touch but Marlene doesn’t want to make it harder than it already is, so she does the unthinkable and keeps her hands to herself.
Keeps her thoughts to herself too—but what else is new?
Maybe if Dorcas didn’t have to swim, if Marlene didn’t have to audition, they would have had the time Dorcas promised, and that weighted blanket full of all the things Marlene didn’t say, didn’t admit, would lighten one day at a time.
But the two of them had their chance.
And Dorcas didn’t take it.
Peter’s old sound system spits out Hall & Oates as they drive away from Hogwarts. “(Oh-oh, here she comes) Watch out, boy, she'll chew you up (Oh-oh, here she comes) She's a maneater.” In the back, Pandora sings to Luna, doing a little dance with the chorus to make her giggle.
Marlene forces herself not to look out the windows and watch the camp fade away, instead focusing on Remus’ wide grin as he waves goodbye to Sirius.
Dorcas leans forward and squeezes Remus’ shoulders. “I’m glad you finally saw the light, Remus.”
Peter snorts. “Me too.”
Remus slumps back into the seat, fiddling with the speakers’ volume. “Yeah,” he breathes, his voice more lovesick than Marlene thought possible for the stoic nurse.
It’s always a little overdone on stage, actors whining and batting their eyes like kids begging for sweets—really, the art of lovesickness is in the name. Remus sounds besotted, sure, and ironically, a good bit moony, but he’s also got that ill look about him as if he might make Peter pull over so he can vomit.
It’s debilitating, love. Heavy and heady.
Marlene realized that in a run-down motel when Dorcas, her ex , rubbed comforting circles on her back while she sobbed from heartbreak and fever.
“Hey.” Dorcas’ knee nudges Marlene’s. “You okay?”
Once Marlene would have lied and lied well, but ever since Dorcas saw her…like that , any facade seems futile. So she doesn’t smile, doesn’t pretend, just whispers: “I will be soon.”
Marlene knows that once she’s back in the city she adores, full of friends and artists and life , she’ll feel grounded in something just as good as Hogwarts. Maybe it will be a little lonely, and there will definitely be fewer munchkins running amidst trash in place of wood chips, but it’ll feel important nonetheless.
That’s what Marlene needs—to mean something.
She misses New York, she misses theatre, she even misses the girl she was. Before Dorcas, before Emma, Marlene was a first year in a daunting conservatory within an even more intimidating city, studying what she loves, and making art that matters.
It was simple then.
Now that love’s in the equation, now that she has to sell herself in auditions, it’s not.
Dorcas opens their mouth to say something when the music cuts off with a loud ring. “Guess we have service again,” Remus says, unplugging his phone. “Hello, this is Remus.”
Marlene’s own phone brightens then, notifications buzzing and shooting little needles into her head. She turns it off, not ready to return to reality—not until her plane lands across the country.
“Hi, Padfoot,” Remus’ voice softens. “I thought you said you would text me. Are you on the office phone?”
Peter meets Marlene’s smirk in the rearview mirror.
It’s not a long drive, no more than ten of Remus’ songs, all of which Marlene tries and fails to get lost in. Pandora and Dorcas make conversation, but Marlene’s as quiet as Peter, stripped of all function save the glances at Dorcas she allows herself every eight seconds or so.
Dorcas catches her looking every time, and maybe Marlene should stop—she’s only making it harder—but if she can’t touch this is her compromise. This is her lifeboat.
Fitting, since they’re the camp lifeguards. Or were .
Eventually, Peter pulls next to the curb of the airport. They don’t do another round of hugs, Peter saluting them all with a smile instead, then Pandora and Luna rush to check their bags in and catch their flight.
Remus, Dorcas, and Marlene all have time, however, and Marlene is as grateful as she is resentful of Remus’ company. It’ll be easier this way.
Or maybe it’ll be harder.
The more Marlene says easier, harder, the less either of the words has meaning. Like lines bled dry from repetition, today is the closing night of a script once significant, now overdone.
Marlene doesn’t feel fed up though—she feels heavy.
She had thought that Dorcas felt the same, but she looks lighter than ever as they make their way through TSA and find somewhere to sit. “I’m going to get snacks,” Dorcas says with an easy smile.
Marlene nods and looks through the tall windows showing the tarmac, the woosh and rumble of airplanes taking flight, an almost successful distraction.
“So New York?” Remus asks, taking the seat across from Marlene’s. He can barely fit his long legs beneath him.
“So Colorado?” Marlene turns the question on him.
“You first. I hear it’s a tough city.”
“I’m a tough girl.”
“True.” Remus laughs lowly. “Do you already have a place?”
Marlene fiddles with her phone, which is still on silent. “I’m moving in with a friend from Julliard. It’ll be Brooklyn for me until I get cast somewhere.”
“I didn’t realize you were an actress.”
“Trying to be,” Marlene adds wryly.
“Well, good luck.”
Marlene bites back a wince. “It’s break a leg, actually.”
“Seems like bad advice from a nurse.”
With a knowing glance at the pack of cigarettes sticking out from Remus’ jacket pocket, Marlene moves on, “Your turn. Are you going back to Colorado to stay?”
“I—I’ve no clue. I’m still reeling from it all.”
Marlene smiles at Remus’ stunned smile, the same expression he wore when he shuffled back to the camp van after kissing Sirius. “If you do leave Colorado, you shouldn’t do it just for Sirius’ sake. Do it for yourself.”
“I agree.” Remus leans back a little. “But I’ve been holding myself back from moving on for a long time, and I think I need to let myself…leap.”
“I didn’t realize you were so cheesy, Remus.”
“Spend enough time with a group called Marauders and you pick up their maudlin ways.”
“Fair.” Marlene looks out the window. “I managed to get away without one of those horrible nicknames, so I’ll count myself lucky.”
“Give it time.”
Marlene’s face doesn’t waver, but her chest tightens. There isn’t time to give—this was her first and last summer with all of them. Her last summer with Dorcas.
“I’d recommend it,” Remus says after a moment.
“What’s that?”
“Taking a leap.”
Marlene swallows. “I did.” And she fell hard .
“So it’s Dorcas who—”
“I come bearing loot!” Dorcas tosses a bag of Maui onion chips in Remus’ lap, a pack of Sour Patch Kids on the chair beside him, then turns and gives Marlene a cherry coke, only this time, it doesn’t have I love you scribbled on the top.
Marlene’s left utterly speechless, tongue as heavy as her heart when she takes the cold can from Dorcas, their fingers brushing.
Then Remus’ phone rings, again, and it’s Sirius on the other end, again . He walks off chuckling into his phone, leaving the two of them to their pining silence. Marlene flips through a script, pretending to prepare for her upcoming A Doll's House audition.
They last two entire minutes before Dorcas breaks: “I took it.”
Marlene looks up from the page.
“Lily offered me her old job and I accepted it. I’m Counselor Manager now.”
“You—” Marlene sucks in a breath, sitting up on the hard plastic seat. “You’re not going to swim?”
“Not competitively.”
It sounds so simple, so effortless when Dorcas says it like that, but Marlene knows how long they’ve agonized over this, what they’re giving up by walking away. Not just a swimming career but potentially her mom.
“I—I’m really confused, Dorcas,” Marlene whispers. “I thought you had decided to go back to training.”
It was the reason we broke up , Marlene wants to scream.
“My grandma was the one to convince me. She reminded me of all the things I used to love about swimming…living in the water, my teammates and coach, pushing myself, and being a role model for the younger kids. I get to do all of those things at Hogwarts without sacrificing my mental health. Really, I only kept doing it because I was scared to stop, and she told me in no uncertain terms that it would be foolish of me to let fear run my life.”
“That’s—” Marlene loses her train of thought.
According to Dorcas, there was no point in their relationship if they were going their separate ways come the end of summer.
And they still are.
“I’m happy for you,” Marlene eventually says. Even if it won’t change things between them, it certainly changes things for Dorcas—it gives her a reason to live somewhere she loves, and explore a new life without the pressure of their mom and competition. “Really, Dorcas, this is lovely.”
“Thanks.”
Now would be the moment in the scene, that beat in the script for Dorcas to put themself on the line—change her mind—tell Marlene that they love her and want to try, even if it’s long distance.
But Dorcas doesn’t. They don’t leap.
“Well.” Marlene turns on her phone, checking the time. “I’m going to go find my gate.”
Dorcas stands when Marlene does. “You don’t want to wait with me—”
“Let’s not make it harder than it needs to be,” Marlene repeats what Dorcas told her a few days before.
“I’m sorry I said that I was just…”
Marlene waits, her silence an open invitation for Dorcas to fix this. To fight for them.
“I’m just fucking sad to see you go,” Dorcas finishes.
“Right.” Marlene laughs darkly. She pulls her backpack over her shoulders and lifts her duffel, filtering through potential farewells in her brain when Dorcas blurts:
“Can I have your number?”
“Why?”
“Because this can’t be—I won’t let this be the last time we talk to each other.”
Almost, Marlene thinks to herself. It’s almost what she wanted to hear, but it’s still ambiguously platonic, a desperate cry to keep in touch when Marlene knows how deep every text will cut. “I don’t know, Dorcas.”
“Please? If you don’t like it I’ll stop or—or you can block me.”
“That’s not fair,” Marlene chokes, overwhelmed by all the emotions in Dorcas’ voice, the pain and love shining in their brown eyes. “ Not fair.”
Dorcas sniffs, turning away to wipe her eyes.
“Fine,” Marlene caves. “I’ll give it to you, but let me have a couple of days, okay?”
“Going to try and move on, Marls?” Dorcas attempts to joke.
“Yeah.”
Dorcas’ mouth clamps shut, and Marlene takes the chance to grab their phone, entering the passcode Dorcas had long since admitted was her favorite number over and over: 7777. When she’s finished typing in the contact, Marlene leaves the name blank and passes it to Dorcas.
“Three days.”
“Two?” Dorcas nearly whimpers.
“Okay.” Marlene softens. “Two.”
******
Dorcas: hi marls
Marlene: forty-eight hours exactly
Dorcas: are you surprised i can count or that i waited?
Marlene: :)
Dorcas: NOT AN ANSWER!
Marlene: how’s grandma?
Dorcas: nice distraction
Dorcas: it’s going well!
Dorcas: so nice to see her and get away for a little before i face mom
Dorcas: we made bread!!! I added poppyseeds like you did yours last time and i do not regret it.
Marlene: i’m glad it’s all going well, you deserve a break
Dorcas: you said that to me once before :)
Marlene: did I? how clever of me
Dorcas: HOW’S NEW YORK?
Marlene: i should have known you’re an all-caps texter
Dorcas: when the occasion calls for it, YES
Marlene: IT’S GOING WELL, I’M MOVED IN MOSTLY
Dorcas: fuck that made me laugh, my grandma says hi btw
Marlene: hello back!
Dorcas: have you seen your friends??? is the roommate okay? are there rats in the building?
Marlene: no rats as of yet, my roommate is a friend so all is good on that front, thank god
Dorcas: and you’re doing alright?
Marlene: it’s nice to be back
Dorcas: GOOD!
Marlene: when do you leave for hogwarts?
Dorcas: ?
Marlene: after this visit you have to go back to help lily and mary, no?
Dorcas: OH! No, the job is mostly remote! so i have to go back to San Diego and tell mom everything and then…
Marlene: then what?
Dorcas: who knows? it’s kinda nice not having my life planned out months in advance
Marlene: i have to go, got an audition
Dorcas: ok! Break a leg!!!
Marlene glares at the text, at the sweet, stupid message that’s making her blush when she needs to be warming up. She needs to focus . She shouldn’t have responded when Dorcas texted, but she had been waiting, had been missing them sorely, and if it was impossible not to touch before, it feels unfathomable not to respond when so many miles divide them.
“Focus,” Marlene scolds herself.
She works through her breathing exercises, the low conversation of other auditioners filling the tight hallway, but all she can think of is “remote”. Dorcas’ job is remote.
Yet still, they don’t want to try to make the two of them work. The thought hadn’t even fucking occurred to Dorcas—when it’s all Marlene can think about.
“McKinnon?” The production assistant calls from the doorway.
“That’s me.” Marlene crosses the distance, putting as much of Nora Helmer’s character as she can into her smile.
It’s a few hours later, surrounded by boxes still packed, simmering in a high of an audition well done, that Marlene’s phone buzzes again.
Dorcas: hey marls?
Marlene: yeah?
Dorcas: is it ok, me texting you?
Marlene: it’s fine
Dorcas: you promise to tell me if it isn’t
Marlene: i promise
Marlene shuts off her phone, mood souring with her own lies. It seems with so much space between them, it’s easy to pretend again.
******
Dorcas: NO I SWEAR! apparently draco fessed up when narcissa confronted him
Marlene: i can’t believe he tried to poison sirius
Dorcas: he tried to do it to reg too but apparently he can smell poison??
Marlene: unsurprising ngl
Dorcas: draco claims that it was one final “test”
Marlene: oh god, a test for what?
Dorcas: to see if sirius and regulus are worthy of his mom??
Marlene: that’s…sweet in a twisted way
Dorcas: HAHAH when i face-timed sirius she said the same thing
Marlene: And regulus?
Dorcas: straight-up proud
Marlene: what a family, huh
Dorcas: truly
Marlene: how’s alabama?
Dorcas: HOT! but better than facing mom so i’m melting with joy
Marlene: she doesn’t suspect anything?
Dorcas: Oh she’s calling me all the time and i’m ignoring every single one
Marlene: has she not called your grandma?
Dorcas: my grandma is as skilled at changing the subject as you are
Marlene: thanks?
Dorcas: your welcome!
Marlene: *you’re
Dorcas: YOU DID NOT
Marlene: oops
Dorcas: :)
Dorcas: what are you up to?
Marlene: i’m supposed to be meeting a friend for lunch but she’s running late
Dorcas: :(
Dorcas: i could call you and keep you company?
Marlene: that’s okay
Dorcas: you don’t want me to call you at all? or is it just you don’t want me to call you now?
Marlene: Dorcas
Dorcas: i’m trying to understand your boundaries
Marlene: idk it’s easier this way i guess
Dorcas: okay, whatever you want
Marlene drops the phone onto the table, her body sinking with the weight of “Whatever you want.” What Marlene wants is Dorcas—she wants Dorcas to fight for her. To try .
She’s not so stupid to let Dorcas call her, to hear their voice and get lost in their rambling, be viscerally reminded of all the things that made her fall in love in the first place—Dorcas’ sincerity, their laugh, her heart and humor and hope.
Texting is one thing, but phone calls are another. It’s a flimsy boundary, really, but one Marlene draws nonetheless.
“Marlene?”
The voice makes Marlene freeze, her hands glued to her face, shielding her from reality.
“What are you doing here, Marlene?” Emma says.
Marlene finds the strength to drop her hands, her face blank and still. “I moved back. Obviously.”
“Wow, I mean—that’s great.”
Emma looks as beautiful as ever, a sloped long sleeve slinging off her right shoulder to reveal her one and only tattoo, a sketch of the Michelangelo hands. Once, Marlene had kissed that skin, had bitten a trail over that ink so that Emma could grin like a wolf in class, covered with Marlene’s marks.
Emma was possessive like that—or rather, she wanted Marlene to be possessive. Wanted a lot that Marlene didn’t want to give.
“Are you waiting for someone or—” Emma gestures to the open seat across from Marlene, smiling as if she might try and sit with her.
“Yes.” Marlene doesn’t offer the information of who she’s waiting for, which just happens to be one of their former classmates. She won’t give Emma the opportunity to swoop in and steal the spotlight.
Not anymore.
Emma gives Marlene a look, knowing and accusing and full of a sealed safe that Marlene doesn’t want to reopen, but the memories are slipping through the cracks, making her shiver with fear. She feels the ghost of fingers across her skin, haunting and violent.
“You look good,” Emma goes on as if all of this is casual. “Some of the others are in deep post-grad depression so I guess it’s lucky that we’re both thriving. Are you auditioning? I saw an A Doll’s House posting that you would be perfect for.”
“I went.”
Emma’s eyes light up. “How’d it go?”
The question has every appearance of genuineness, and if Marlene didn’t know Emma so well, she would trust the excitement in her expression. But after all that Emma had done to her, had said to her, Marlene knows better.
It wasn’t until Dorcas that Marlene understood just how horrible of a girlfriend, of a friend Emma was.
“If you’ll excuse me, I have to take a call.” Marlene stands and brushes past Emma, barely thinking as she clicks on the first contact of her messages.
“Marls?” Dorcas picks up after one ring. “I thought you said you didn’t want to call—”
“She’s here.” Marlene gasps, running outside. “Emma’s here.”
“Your ex?”
“Yes, and she just came up to me and struck up a conversation like she didn't—as if she didn’t say those things to me—”
“I need you to take a breath for me, okay?”
Marlene’s head thuds against the restaurant’s exterior, the cold seeping into her scalp. “She even mentioned an audition posting like she’s been thinking about me and then implied that she wanted to sit with me—”
“Marlene, come on, breathe.”
“No! How could she just look at me like that and pretend like she wasn’t horrible—fuck I should have confronted her, I’m a coward! I should have told her how much of a—”
The sound of Dorcas’ croaky singing voice shuts Marlene up.
“Our song is a salami screen door Sneakin' out late, tapping on a widow. When we're on the phone, and you like real snow. 'Cause I ate, and your mama don't know.”
Marlene’s own bark of a laugh surprises her.
“Hey! It worked.”
“You—those are not the lyrics.”
“They were close enough. And stop laughing so hard the point was to soothe you so you can breathe.”
“Oh is that your version of a lullaby?” Marlene sputters. “Salami screen door?”
Dorcas breaks into laughter too, then hums the chorus as they wait for Marlene to catch her breath.
“I need you to write those lyrics down so I can send them to the camp group chat.”
“Fine, fine.” As if leading one of Regulus’ meditation exercises, Dorcas adds: “Only if you take a longgg breath in.”
“I’m trying.”
“Good, that’s all you need to do, try .”
“Then why won’t you?” Marlene says without thinking.
“What do you mean?”
Marlene’s grip on the phone wobbles, but she can’t seem to stop her tongue from moving. “You won’t even try! You’ve just given up on us even though you’re not going to competitively swim and I can’t stop thinking about what you said—what’s the point, what’s the point, what’s the point—well the point is us , Dorcas.”
“Marlene—”
“I’m sorry.” Marlene scrubs her cheeks, ashamed of her tears. “I’m just overwhelmed.”
Before Dorcas can say another thing, Marlene snaps, “Don’t call me, okay?”
“Whatever you want.”
“Sure it is.” Marlene hangs up.
She sets off for the subway, shooting her friend a text with a lame excuse. Once she has her earbuds in, the real “Our Song” blasting, she recites Regulus’ meditation exercises and breathes.
Or, she tries to.
It’s hard with all this weight crushing her chest.
******
Dorcas: i’m so sorry i didn’t know you felt that way
Dorcas: and i know seeing emma must have been awful
Dorcas: when you’re feeling up to it, will you call me?
Dorcas: i won’t call you. i promise.
Dorcas: i just think we have to talk about some things, yeah?
Dorcas: i’ll give you some space until then
Dorcas: let me know when you’re ready marls <3
The days-old texts sit on Marlene’s phone, unanswered. She’s been caught between two extremes, half of her on the verge of blocking Dorcas, the other half on the verge of flying to San Diego. Dorcas is probably there right now, telling their mom the hard truth that she’s leaving it all behind—competitive swimming, the Olympics, and Marlene too.
If she even mentions Marlene. What’s the point of talking about someone you only shared one summer with? What’s the point?
The more Marlene thinks about the question, the less of an answer she can imagine.
“McKinnon?”
Another production assistant, another audition, another rejection. Marlene goes through the motions, waking up at dawn for open calls and stumbling into a bare, blank room come the afternoon. Her cats are the only reason she remembers to go into the kitchen, to feed them and maybe have something for herself too.
“McKinnon?”
The days blur with scripts and frowning producers. Character heels and skin-color tights. Shaking hands and dizzy spells.
“McKinnon?”
Marlene works her ass off to be ready—to feign chemistry in scenes with gay men, to make iambic pentameter her bitch, to monologue and perform and make those fuckers feel something. Feel all the things she can’t let herself.
“McKinnon?”
This is what she wanted, she has to remind herself as she paints her face and guzzles black coffee. It’s a hard life, full of rejection and shit pay, but it’s one that lets her perform. She loves theatre.
She loves this.
“Mckinnon?”
Marlene enters another audition room and lifts her chin. She’ll make her Nana proud today. She will.
“The raven himself is hoarse
That croaks the fatal entrance of Duncan
Under my battlements. Come, you spirits
That tend on mortal thoughts, unsex me here,
And fill me from the crown to the toe top-full
Of direst cruelty! make thick my blood;
Stop up the access and passage to remorse,
That no compunctious visitings of nature
Shake my fell purpose, nor keep peace between
The effect and it! Come to my woman’s breasts,
And take my milk for gall, you murdering ministers,
Wherever in your sightless substances
You wait on nature’s mischief! Come, thick night,
And pall thee in the dunnest smoke of hell,
That my keen knife see not the wound it makes,
Nor heaven peep through the blanket of the dark,
To cry ‘Hold, hold!’”
Marlene lingers in that last moment of Lady Macbeth, hands raised in the air when a producer says in a blank, brutal sneer: “Thank you. That’s all we need.”
It’s hard not to blame Dorcas for the tears that well in Marlene’s eyes because before this summer, she wouldn’t have cried. She would have carried on. Now she wanders the city streets, stomach rumbling and cheeks wet while she searches for something, anything, nothing.
She doesn’t even realize she’s at the cemetery until the black-iron fence comes into view, a strange plot of soil between a bagel shop and a CVS, something old and withered, untouched by the modern.
Marlene walks in and finds her Nana’s grave.
It’s an honor to be buried here, above the subway and rats, sandwiched between two streets eternally clogged with traffic. Most of the other graves date back to the Gilded Age but Nana knew the right people, or performed for the right people, and the wish she wrote in her will became a reality thanks to her renown.
“Hey, Nana.” Marlene sits across from the tombstone, unable to look at the year of her death. “I’m back.”
The sounds of the city—honking, quick steps, laughter, a few screams—melt away with the lingering summer heat, and Marlene places a hand on the trimmed grass.
“Was it hard for you too? I wish I asked you that. I wish I asked you a lot of things, really, but I didn’t know the right questions then. I feel…alone. I’m not, I know that I have mom and most of my closest friends are still local but—”
Marlene groans as she feels tears prick at their eyes again . “I can’t stop crying, Nana.” A sliver of sun peeking from behind a cloud crosses the grave. “Why can’t I stop crying?”
Instead of an answer, Marlene’s phone buzzes in her back pocket. She clicks on the voice message Dorcas sent, desperate to hear their voice.
“Hey, Marls. It’s me. Obviously. Uhm…I know I said I’d give you space but it’s been days and if you need more time that’s fine—that’s great, you do what you have to do, but I don’t want you to think that I don’t care. I care so fucking much, Marlene. And you said something—you said that I didn’t want to try, what did you mean by that? Try to be together? I—I really think we should talk, Marlene, please, please call me. Only when you’re ready…but just know I want to. Try, that is. If you’ll let me? Okay, this is a long voice message…if you don’t listen to this that’s okay, I can wait. I was patient for you before, I’ll gladly do it again…Bye? Yeah, bye for now.”
Marlene drops her phone onto the grass and looks at her Nana’s engraved name. “What the hell am I supposed to do with that?”
******
It takes another night glaring at the urban sky, sans stars, with two cats purring in her lap, for Marlene to fold. She finds herself reaching down, down, down, pulling out that safe full of Hogwarts’ memories and throwing the lid open:
“You alright there, Meadowes?”
“Never better.”
Stolen glances in cool lakes.
“Elusive is not your style, Dorcas.”
“No, it’s yours.”
“Perhaps.”
Light, loving touches on shoulders and cheeks.
“Are you…no way. You’re a theatre kid?”
Flour-covered hands and whispered secrets.
“Coming, McKinnon?”
“Mmhm.”
Dates in the privacy of the Yurt, a jacket over Dorcas’ shoulder so they don’t get cold.
“I’m in no rush. You know that right?”
“Know what?”
“I’ll wait for you.”
I love yous in crumpled, sweaty motel sheets.
“I really really like you, Marlene. And if you’ll let me, I’d like to love you.”
Marlene presses the heels of her hands into her eyes but there aren’t any tears to dry. It isn’t the torture she anticipated, remembering the summer—it’s as gentle as Dorcas. Much more sweet than bitter.
Noticing her cats’ worried stares, Marlene chuckles. “I know, I’m losing it.”
When they don’t respond—because they’re cats , Marlene shakes her head. “First my dead Nana, now you two.”
She decides then and there that she has to talk to someone , and since she can’t bring herself to hear Dorcas’ voice again, she picks up her phone and calls in a favor.
“Hello, this is Lily Evans, Hogwarts Camp Director.”
“You do realize it’s 1:00 AM?”
“Marlene?!” There’s shuffling on the other end of the line, and Marlene can imagine Lily sitting up in her desk chair, barely containing a smile. “It’s so good to hear from you. How are you?”
It’s not necessarily surprising that Lily sounds excited to hear from Marlene in the middle of the night, but it still makes Marlene’s chest pulse with warmth. “I’m—I’m alright.”
There’s a beat of silence as if Lily is letting Marlene try again.
“No, I’m not, actually,” Marlene admits. The bitter truth is somehow easier over the phone, without the threat of someone seeing how bad it’s gotten, how lonely she’s become not two weeks out from Hogwarts. “You know how you said that I could always come to you if I needed help?”
“Of course…What’s on your mind?”
“I miss it,” Marlene begins. “I miss the feeling of waking up and knowing that I’m going to make someone’s day better. The constant company of people who are, I don’t know, happy to be alive. To be doing this. That everything I’m sacrificing, the exhaustion and time spent is making a real difference. No one rejected me at Hogwarts. No one dismissed me. I—I belonged.”
“You’ll always belong here,” Lily says softly.
“But I want to do theatre—I love performing and this is my dream. I’m just…”
“Struggling?”
“Yes.”
Lily hums in understanding. “Did you know that when I first graduated college I slept on James’ couch all summer? Back then, Sirius and James didn’t live together, so Wormtail got Padfoot’s place and I got Prongs’. We were both unemployed and sort of aimless, and from what I know, that’s not all that uncommon post-graduation.”
“What did you do?”
“It was Dumbledore that helped us. Took us in, gave us jobs. But even if he didn’t, I would have figured it out because I put myself around people who cared for me. I didn’t push them away even though I hated the idea of them seeing me fail.” Lily laughs. “If I didn’t have them cheering me on, giving me a reason to get out of bed…it would have been ugly.”
“I think I understand.”
“You’ve got a roommate, yeah?”
“An old friend from Julliard but she’s working at a restaurant so we never see each other.”
“What about your other friends, are you seeing them?”
Marlene hesitates. “Yes.”
“Are you letting them see you? Really see you, I mean.”
Marlene lets the silence speak for her, petting her cats while Lily searches for an answer, a solution. She’s good at that, Evans. Always knows what to do, even when she found out Harry was her biological child and adopted son of her estranged sister—she handled it.
But the longer Lily is quiet, the heavier Marlene feels.
There isn’t an easy answer here.
“I know it’s terrifying but you have to let someone in, Marlene,” Lily tries. “Is there anyone there you can talk to about this?”
Marlene bites her wobbling lip, unwilling to let any tears fall while she’s on the phone with her boss. Former boss. And maybe, now, friend. “There’s no one here I trust like that.”
“Then you should call them.”
“Who?” Marlene asks, though she already knows.
“Dorcas.”
Just the name makes her shiver. “We broke up.”
Lily sighs. “Breaking up doesn’t have to mean you cut her off entirely, especially when they mean so much to you. James and I figured that out through trial and error.”
“I know that and Dorcas wants me to call her but…I can’t bring myself to do it.” Marlene tries to think through why she won’t, why she can’t , what’s keeping her from leaping one more time—then she feels a sob rip through her. “I can’t handle another rejection, Lily. Auditions are one thing, but this? This isn’t a character, this is who I am and Dorcas didn’t think there was a point to me then. So why would they see a point now?”
“I can’t speak for Dorcas,” Lily says slowly. “But I do think you both deserve to sit down and have another conversation. For closure if not for anything else.”
“I don’t know.”
“Sleep on it. These aren’t the decisions you make when the sun is down.”
Marlene’s lips twitch up. “Why’s that?”
“Haven’t you heard? The moon makes us go mad .”
“Funny. I do my best thinking at night.”
Lily laughs. “Me too. Hence why I’m in the office right now. That and Harry had another nightmare.”
“How’s he doing?”
“He’s still adjusting. The important thing is that he feels safe at Hogwarts. He adores this place.”
“I know the feeling.” Marlene sighs.
“You’re always welcome here.”
“Thanks, Lily.”
“Thank you for calling me, for trusting me. I—I know I’ve let you down before.”
“You didn’t.”
“I did,” Lily insists. “But I promised I’d do better, and that means you can ask for help whenever, wherever. I’m here for you, Marlene. We all are. But you have to let us help.”
It’s not the first time Marlene has heard this spiel from Lily, but it is the first time that Marlene has let herself admit that she might need it. She might need them.
“Go to bed, and when you wake up tomorrow, see if you can handle a call with Dorcas.”
“Yes, sir,” Marlene teases.
“That—that wasn’t an order, you know, just a…suggestion. I’m not your boss anymore.”
“Sadly not. And I know. I’ll see how I feel in the morning.”
They say their goodbyes and hang up, and for once, Marlene manages to fall asleep right away.
******
The echo of the phone’s shrill ring makes Marlene’s skin crawl, her head hiding in her arms as she waits for Dorcas to pick up. It’s about five seconds from voicemail when Dorcas answers.
“Oh thank god I’ve been losing my mind.”
“Hi.”
“Marls, are you alright? And don’t lie to me please.”
“I’m not going to lie. I’m—I’m going to be painfully honest for the next few minutes, so brace yourself.” Marlene pulls the phone closer to her on the kitchen counter. She made herself a cup of tea as liquid bravery, but the warm mug has sat untouched, brewing earl gray for much too long.
“You’re not going to scare me away,” Dorcas says softly. “If that’s what you’re worried about.”
Marlene can’t help but scoff, running a finger over the mug’s edge. The steam almost soothes her skin, her frantic heart, but she’s straining from all the weight dragging down her shoulders, either on the verge of throwing it off or collapsing beneath it.
“What is it?” Dorcas asks in a small voice. “Why’d you scoff?”
“You can’t say that I’m not going to scare you off when you gave up on us without so much as talking to me!”
At Dorcas’ silence, Marlene continues, “I know your mom showed up, and that must have been terrifying but I would have helped you, I would have been there for you while you figured out what you wanted but you went off and decided just like that.” She snaps. “And then a month later, you change your mind and take Lily’s job without talking to me about it either. To be fair, at that point, I didn’t matter, you made sure of that, in fact, you went out of your fucking way to let me know how hard it was to be in the same room as me when all along you were considering quitting swimming. You iced me out, Dorcas, when you promised me you’d wait. You promised me you’d love me if I let you.”
Marlene’s curt tone surprises even herself. She didn’t know this was what she wanted to say, what she had to say before the words had already been let loose, vicious and angry from being cooped up in a cage.
“I’m—I’m so sorry.”
Marlene looks around the apartment with wide eyes, her lungs fighting for air. She focuses on the half-dead plant her roommate set in the corner by the TV, its leaves chewed from the cats and soil smelling faintly of pee.
“I handled all of it horribly, I know that,” Dorcas says. “I have this tendency to just…shut down when it all gets too much. And I’m not saying you were too much, but you were so good, everything I’ve ever wanted, actually, and I was in love and I didn’t know how to save us. How to both swim and love you, and that choice scared me.”
“But you made the choice. You didn’t pick me.”
Dorcas makes a muffled noise on the other end.
“Wait, that’s not fair of me,” Marlene quickly adds, her chest tightening. “I didn’t pick you either.”
“Would you have?”
“I would have tried at least. I thought we would go long-distance until we could figure the rest of it out.”
“I wanted that too, but I couldn’t think through it, I didn’t let myself—I let my mom’s wants and wishes take over and I ruined us for it.”
Marlene’s voice comes out flat, “So that’s it? We’re ruined.”
“NO!” Dorcas’ shout makes Marlene startle. “Or I don’t want us to be. I want to—what did you mean by try, Marlene? Because I want to try. I really fucking want to try.”
“You do?”
“Yes.”
Marlene nearly throws the phone at the wall, so she forces her hands into her hair, tugging at the roots. “Then why didn’t you say that at the airport?!”
“You barely gave me your number you were so upset with me, I didn’t want to assume that you’d—”
“I love you, Dorcas! We broke up because you wanted to. Because you didn’t see a fucking point.”
“You have no idea how much I regret saying that.”
“I wish you didn’t.”
“Then let me make it up to you?” Dorcas’ voice wobbles.
Marlene straightens as hope crawls up her chest, a beast unleashed, but she quickly tames it. “How am I supposed to trust that you won’t throw it all away again? Throw me away again?”
“Well, for starters, my mom is finally off my back now—”
“Oh my god, your mom.” Marlene gasps, dropping her hands to the counter so she can lean over the screen. “Did you tell her? How did it go?”
Dorcas is quiet for a beat. “It was…ugly.”
Marlene didn’t expect anything else, and neither did Dorcas, but still… “I wish she would support you, Dorcas. You deserve that and so much more. I don’t understand how she can’t see how much of an incredible Counselor Manager you’ll be.”
“That’s—thank you. I think I needed to hear that. My grandma managed to convince her not to say something that would ruin us entirely so we’re giving each other some space for now.”
“That sounds like a good plan.”
Dorcas groans. “But we’re not supposed to be talking about my problems, Marlene. We need to talk about you .”
“What about me?” The air is already thick with all that Marlene’s said, all that she’s admitted. She’s not sure how much more she can handle.
“Everything. I want to know everything about you. And I know I broke your heart, but if you give me a second chance I promise I won’t let any of it, not my mom, not my own fears tear us apart.”
“It’s not entirely your fault.” Marlene swallows. “I could have been more open with you.”
“No, I promised I wouldn’t rush you, and that’s still true. We can go at your pace.”
Marlene covers her laugh with her hand.
“What?” Dorcas asks, their voice less cautious but still wary.
“It’s just—you told me you loved me a month into knowing me.”
Dorcas snorts, then adds sheepishly, “I’m sorry?”
“Don’t you dare take that back.”
“I’m not! But I can also see how I might be…overwhelming.”
“You were never overwhelming, Dorcas. If anything I’m under whelming. I can barely keep up, what with you just saying what you feel all the time.”
“No one would expect you to dive from the get-go, just take a dip in the shallow end.”
“Did you just use a swimming metaphor on me?”
Marlene can practically hear Dorcas’ grin. “Mmhm. It worked didn’t it?”
“Maybe.”
“How about this: one truth a day. Tell me something messy.”
“Messy?” Marlene repeats.
“Yep. If it helps I can warm you up with one of my own.” The sound of Dorcas’ hands clapping together makes Marlene think of their cabin during campfires, that special smile Dorcas saved for herding her campers to bed. “Ooo I know, after all that shit with my mom I ran to a gas station and bought a pack of cigarettes.”
“I didn’t know you smoked?”
“Regulus taught me.”
“Wow.” Marlene shakes her head, stunned. “And did it help?”
“No!” Dorcas laughs as she says, “I could barely finish one, so I threw the whole pack away. But it felt nice. Kinda like I was flipping my mom off by ruining her kid’s precious lungs, the best part about me.”
“The best part about you is your heart,” Marlene interjects.
“And you call me cheesy?!”
“Shut up.”
“Fine. It’s your turn anyway.”
Marlene’s eyes flutter shut, the possibilities filling her head in dizzying spirals. It’s not a question of what, but which . Which truth can Marlene stand for Dorcas to know?
“I won’t judge you, Marls,” Dorcas assures her.
And Marlene believes them, so much so that she sucks in a breath and says: “I don’t like myself very much.”
The line goes silent.
“It’s not—it’s not that serious,” Marlene stammers. “I think that’s part of the reason I like theatre, because I get to play characters, pretend I’m someone else for a bit. It’s a relief, honestly.”
“Marlene, I wish you could see yourself the way I see you.” Dorcas’ voice drops. “You’re the most phenomenal person I’ve ever known.”
Marlene’s legs promptly go out from under her, and she has to catch her weight on the counter—yet, she feels lighter than ever. God, the things that Dorcas says. The things that Dorcas makes Marlene feel .
It’s like unlocking each of her sealed safes, letting only the best memories back in.
“Damn, I really wish I could see your blush right now,” Dorcas drawls, sounding as cocky as ever.
“I’m not blushing.”
“You absolutely are.”
Marlene huffs. “We can facetime, I guess.”
“Or…”
“Or what?”
“You could open your door?”
Marlene freezes, her head turning slowly to the dark green door across the kitchen. “What do you mean?”
There’s a light knock outside, and the sound echoes on the phone.
“You didn’t.”
“I did.” Dorcas’ laugh is breathless.
“I thought you were giving me space?”
“I have been. I’ve been here for a few days now, waiting for your call. To be fair, I was about to knock on your door for proof of life when you called me, so good timing I guess.”
At Marlene’s shocked silence, Dorcas adds, “Could you…let me in? If you want to, I mean.”
Instead of responding, Marlene runs and throws the door open.
“Hi, you.” Dorcas stands there, phone raised to their ear, holding a bouquet of red roses.
Marlene’s smile stretches her face wide, and she jumps onto Dorcas, crushing the flowers between them. “I want you to try. Try to be with me. Try to make this work. Try to love me and not let me go.”
“Okay.” Dorcas pulls back and cradles Marlene’s face between their palms, a loving touch, one that doesn’t ask for anything more than Marlene can give. “I love you. And I know that me telling you to love yourself too isn’t going to fix shit, but I will be here for you as you learn how to. I promise I’ll stay if you let me.”
Marlene rests her head in Dorcas’ palm and for a moment, lets them hold the weight. “Okay.”