It’s Always the Husband. Michele Campbell

on the Quad. In the meantime they walked around campus checking people out, went to the bookstore (where Jenny bought a Carlisle sleepshirt with their class year on it that she charged to her account, the concept of the bookstore charge account coming as a revelation to Aubrey), and got iced coffees at a perfect, grungy café on College Street called Hemingway’s that looked and smelled exactly how Aubrey imagined a café should. They headed back to the Quad just as the barbecue was starting. The scent of charcoal and burgers floated on the velvety late-summer air, along with an occasional whiff of pot. A band played a cover of “Peace, Love and Understanding.” Kids danced, and laughed, and hugged, and lounged on the grass. A bunch of cute guys with no shirts tossed a Frisbee, egging on a goofy yellow Lab that kept jumping up and trying to snatch the thing in midair.

      Every freshman dorm had staked out its own patch of ground, where it set up blankets and camp chairs. Jenny and Aubrey made a beeline for the Whipple banner.

      “There’s Kate,” Jenny said, pointing.

      A bunch of guys had gathered around a petite girl in sky-high platform heels standing under the Whipple sign. Aubrey only semi-recognized Kate from the picture. The image she’d carried in her mind all summer was of a snooty country-club brat, but Kate in the flesh was more hippie princess, with long flaxen hair and a ruby in her belly button. She had a wide smile and a throaty rich-girl voice that caught Aubrey’s ear as they approached. When she saw Jenny and Aubrey, she immediately turned her back on her admirers and walked straight toward them.

      “The roomies return!” Kate screamed joyously, holding out her arms. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you two! Gimme some sugar, my sisters!”

      Kate stumbled over her platforms, practically falling into Aubrey’s embrace. She was tiny, with delicate bones, and she smelled of herbal shampoo, and reefer. Aubrey put her back on her feet.

      “C’mere, you,” Kate said, and hugged Jenny, too.

      “My God, you’re wasted,” Jenny said, and giggled.

      “Too true,” Kate said with a laugh, righting herself. Her face was flushed and her eyes were bright. “It’s college! I am out from under the watchful eye of my keepers, and ready to party with my bestest girlfriends. They say your freshman roommates become your best friends for life. So – shall we?”

      Kate crooked her arms. Jenny took one, though only after a noticeable hesitation; but Aubrey laughed out loud with sheer happiness as she grabbed the other. In that moment, Carlisle opened up to her like a flower. Kate gave off waves of light and energy. Colors seemed brighter and the air felt softer in her company. Most of all, arm in arm with Kate, Aubrey felt like she belonged, like she was free to live the life she’d imagined. No wonder she’d been such a loner in high school. She’d known somehow that this amazing girl was out there, waiting for her, and she hadn’t settled for less. Kate was the friend she’d been waiting for her whole life.

3

      Jenny, you are literally a buzz kill,” Kate said, over the whir of an electric fan. She paused with the match an inch away from the tip of the joint.

      It was Saturday night, and classes started Monday morning. The three of them were draped across the new furniture that overflowed the cramped living room of suite 402. Jenny’s father and brother had taken away the smelly couch and moved in a matching love seat and armchair upholstered in hot-pink suede. Kate immediately pronounced the new stuff “bourgeois,” yet proceeded to lounge on it all afternoon in her cami-pajamas, with a cappuccino in a cardboard cup from Hemingway’s perched on her bare stomach, talking on their shared room phone with some boy she knew from boarding school who was at USC now. (God, the phone bills the girl was racking up, that they’d probably have to chase her to pay, but it was impossible to stay mad at her.) The three of them were supposed to be getting ready to go out, but instead Aubrey felt marooned. They all did – weighed down by the heat, bathed in orangey-pink sunset that filtered through the skylight.

      “Have it your way, then,” Kate said.

      She sighed and blew out the match. Aubrey admired Kate’s delicate hands. Her chipped fingernails sparkled with sky-blue polish, and a spray of stars was tattooed on the inside of one wrist.

      “I got all the way through high school without getting in trouble, and I don’t plan to start now,” Jenny said.

      But there was no animosity in her voice. They were all lethargic, content to loll and idly chat. They’d been forecasting a thunderstorm, but it hadn’t come yet, and the air coming in through the open windows was heavy and wet.

      “Just for argument’s sake, how exactly do you imagine we’re going to get caught?” Kate asked.

      “That fan does nothing to cover the smell. It blows it out into the hallway. I’m not judging you. Smoke if you want to, but if you do it here and the RA smells it, I’ll get in trouble, too.”

      “That Asian girl? She would never rat us out.”

      “What does the fact that she’s Asian have to do with it?”

      “Nothing. She’s some lowly biochem grad student. I could have her grant money pulled for looking at me the wrong way. Don’t you understand what kind of protection you get by rooming with me?” Kate said.

      “Well, I don’t want that kind of protection. I don’t agree with it.”

      “My, my, such an idealist,” Kate drawled.

      “Hey, it’s after eight o’clock,” Aubrey said. “Shouldn’t we head out?”

      They’d been through four deadly days of required orientation activities – team-building hikes, sexual harassment lectures, IT sessions where they learned to use Carly, the library’s research database. Every night there had been pizza feeds, and bands, and open houses sponsored by some dorm or club. But tonight the true debauchery began. The first fraternity parties. Frat Row would be lit up like Times Square, and packed with hunky upperclassmen cruising for the tender flesh of freshman girls.

      “If Miss Priss here is even coming,” Kate said, but there was a note of affection in her voice.

      “I’m thinking about it,” Jenny said.

      Aubrey sat up and reached for her sneakers.

      “No you don’t,” Kate said. “Only geeks show up this early. And you’re not going sober either. Not if you want to walk in with me. Where I come from, we pregame. Hold on a minute.”

      Kate got up and flounced off to her room.

      “Have you registered for classes yet?” Jenny asked idly, considering her manicure.

      “I thought we had until the end of next week,” Aubrey said, sinking back down onto the sofa.

      “Not if you want to take anything popular,” Jenny said. “Popular classes fill up early. Tell me which courses you’re thinking of, and I’ll tell you if you should worry.”

      “I don’t know. Maybe Renaissance Painting. Or Literature of the Outsider – I heard the prof for that is really amazing. Oh, and French New Wave Cinema, or Eastern Religions. There are so many.”

      Jenny frowned. “What do you do with courses like those?”

      Kate came back, carrying a bottle of tequila and three paper cups.

      “Courses like what?” she asked.

      “Aubrey’s thinking about taking Renaissance Painting and a bunch of other floofy stuff,” Jenny said, smiling.

      “Floofy?” Kate said, and laughed. “You’re too much.”

      “You’re saying those courses aren’t practical,” Aubrey said. “I get it, but why come to Carlisle if not to study things that inspire me?”

      “Um, to get a job after?” Jenny said.

      “What