Rings of Saturn | h.s. soulmates au

Rings of Saturn - 4

September 28 - Evening

"Is this right? It doesn't feel right." Blair fiddled with the twisted strap of her toga dress, clipping and unclipping the golden brooch that held it all together as she adjusted. "Like...this definitely doesn't feel Greek enough."

"Well, firstly, the Greeks didn't wrap bedsheets around themselves," Phoebe said moodily as she attempted to untangle her hair from the ridiculous gold leaf crown Amani had insisted she wear. "Or togas, for that matter; they wore himations. Romans wore togas, and it's more like the Etruscans' tebenna than anything."

"Hey," Taron said, pulling Phoebe out of the mirror and shooing her hands away from her hair. With ease, Taron untangled her hair from the spindly stems of the crown and sat it perfectly on her head. "How about we turn the brain off tonight, try on a smile, and have some fun?"

Phoebe stared flatly up at her friend. She'd always been up for a night--well, weekend really--of fun, floating from frat house to house party and mixing drinks with strangers-turned-friends. That was one of those things that fell on the Before the Mark side of the line. She hadn't been to a party all semester, making up excuse after excuse until her friends no longer asked her. She wasn't interested in being in a room full of sweaty, horny adolescents high on life and intoxicated with courage, some of whom might even be marked. Phoebe was afraid that, in a drunken stupor, she'd find some cute boy with a mark that vaguely resembled some trait of hers if she squinted and fall head over heels.

People fell victim to intoxication and lust all the time, completely throwing themselves at one another as if they were meant to be; there were self-help books, research articles--hell, even reality shows about it. Phoebe was a product of it, her own mother and father pretending to make it work much longer than it ever did. Because what no one tells you is that, even though he may not be the one, you can still love him. You can love someone with your whole heart, truly feel a connection between one another and build a life together, only for it to be ripped to shreds by destiny.

Phoebe was afraid of losing herself, of being swallowed whole and swept away. She was afraid of getting hurt.

"Look," Amani said sternly. "You've got a million and one excuses to not come to this party, but it doesn't matter. You're coming. You're gonna have a drink, maybe two, play a little beer pong, flirt with some cute boys, and then we'll stumble home."

"She doesn't have to flirt with anyone," Blair added. Phoebe was grateful for her friend's protective nature; Blair was the mom of the group, always taking care of the girls on nights out and baking sweets during breakups.

Amani didn't understand, but held her hands up in truce. "Fine, no flirting, but she's coming out no matter what."

"Why does it matter?" Phoebe huffed, dropping down onto the beanbag underneath Taron's bunk. She followed and kneeled to be at eye level, Taron taking Phoebe's hand into her own. She smiled sympathetically and nodded, as she always did before laying out the cold hard truth.

"I understand," Taron began, Phoebe's hard glare cutting her off. She didn't understand, none of them did. They didn't understand being marked, and they didn't understand the fear that gripped her every night since the stupid bird made an appearance on her arm. All their parents were matched, living happily ever after together; for all they knew, their lives would progress along just as smoothly.

"Phoebe, really, I do understand what you're going through," Taron trucked on. "No, not from my own experience, but from my friendship with you. I get it--you're scared to go out and meet someone, especially now that you're marked because you think it'll change how you act around guys. You're afraid of getting carried away--and that's okay. But can't you see? You're so scared of what may or may not happen because you're marked now that you haven't realized you're already letting it change you.