Callahan: A Gothic Tale

Scarlet Letters and Societal Norms

22 Scarlet Letters and Societal Norms

"In a society that profits from your self doubt, liking yourself is a rebellious act." -Caroline Caldwell, @The_Female_Lead

8 am, Six Weeks and Three Days In, Mid-Autumn 1994, Biochemistry Laboratory

Macy strode in, on time as usual, stopping short as she noticed her usual spot was occupied by a tall pale teen—or man—with purple-tipped spiked hair and a Grateful Dead shirt. Her PMS symptoms had been hitting her lately, and today was no different. "Excuse you," she sniped, her arms crossed, glaring at the person who had the audacity to claim her seat for his own. She saw what appeared to be the remnants of a warlock-based experiment—green shadows intertwined with azure—which disappeared almost immediately.

"Who died and made you queen?" the male retorted, scribbling something incomprehensible in his faux Goth notebook before slamming it shut and staring back at Macy as he slowly rose from his seat.

Despite him being a good inch taller than her, she stood her ground. "I am a Charmed One," she hissed. "Who the hell are you?"

"MACY—OFFICE—NOW." She groaned, hearing Cora's voice from the entryway. Dammit. In trouble, and it wasn't even noon.

Noon, Mid-Autumn 1994, French Brasserie, across the street from Biochemistry Laboratory

"...And that's when Cora wrote me up for insubordination," Macy finished explaining as Harry took another bite of his croque-monsieur.

"As well she might—ow!—" Harry yelped as Macy kicked him under the table. "What on earth was that for?"

"Not taking my side. How was I supposed to know that was Dima, as in 'famous talked-about Ukrainian Dima?' He doesn't exactly look the part—" as she took a bite of her boeuf au jus sandwich, its drippings soaking through the toasted baguette.

"How does one look, if one is a scientist then?" inquired Harry, with a twinkle in his eye.

"Smart. Buttoned up. No torn jeans, or if they are, you have a lab coat to cover it—don't get me started, I'm irritable as hell right now—PMS—"

"What can I do to make it better?"

Macy paused, mid-rant, puzzled. "It?"

"Your PMS," Harry clarified between chews. "Surely I can alleviate the...burden?"

"Well..." she thought aloud. "I can't find any dark chocolate bark thins, the company making them wasn't around till 2013. Halo Top didn't get huge till 2017. If you can find really, really fancy dark chocolate, that'd be amazing. Probably impossible, but amazing."

"I'll do my best," Harry replied, making a mental note to inquire at the farmers market.

"On a different subject," continued Macy. "What's your opinion on Halloween parties?"

Harry mulled this over before replying. "It depends who I'm going with."

"Me?"

"In that case, I'd love to. Macy Vaughn, are you asking me out on a Halloween date?"

She grinned coquettishly. "Maybe."

5 pm, Mid-Autumn 1994, Ambient Lounge

When the topic of Halloween came up after lunch, Cora had mentioned something about an orange book, studded with black lettering on a rainbow bookshelf, in such a subtle way Macy was sure she'd misheard. But just to be sure...she glanced at the orange tomes atop the bookshelf. Apricot, peach, light orange, tangerine orange, orange with black lettering—bingo!