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Emily Dickinson. JJ
had yet to learn anything more about Kendal besides the obvious,
that she was a cheerleader, was incredibly beautiful and popular,
and needed help with her schoolwork.
    For some reason, JJ craved more. She wanted
to get inside Kendal’s head, to be able to ask her more meaningful
questions, like what was her biggest fear, and if she could travel
anywhere in the world, where would she go and why.
    “Why am I thinking about her?” JJ asked
aloud.
    Maybe Queenie was right. Maybe this was
another case of the Dibble Syndrome. But it didn’t feel the same.
The Dibble Syndrome was more of an obsession kind of thing. It
wasn’t real. Then again, maybe this wasn’t real either.
    JJ turned off the stereo and flipped on the
television for distraction. A moment later the phone rang twice to
signal an off-campus call. Something told her that it was Queenie
checking in.
    “How’s the wedding shower?” JJ asked. She
could hear the sounds of conversation fluttering in the
background.
    “I’m having the time of my life,” Queenie
said blandly. “What are you doing?”
    “Watching television.” JJ’s finger
robotically hit the channel button on the remote control.
    “What’s on?”
    “Nothing in particular.”
    “Hey, I’m sorry I gave you a hard time about
Kendal. I just don’t want to see you go through something like that
again.”
    “I know. It’s nothing. Honest.”
    “Look, I gotta go,” Queenie said anxiously.
“My sister just opened up a gift and it’s some racy lingerie. I
want to get in a few good barbs while I still can. I’ll see you
Sunday.”
    JJ hung up the phone and turned off the
television. She let the quiet seep in around her and closed her
eyes. Instinctively, as if a remote switch flipped on inside her
mind, she began to think about Kendal.
     
     

CHAPTER 8
     
    Christine already was getting on Kendal’s
nerves by the time they got to the soccer party. Kendal gladly let
Jason take over the reins of keeping Christine entertained once
they found him in someone else’s dorm room playing cards.
    “Here. Have fun,” Kendal said as she handed
Christine over to him. Christine’s limp body fell directly into his
arms and she clung to his chest.
    “Hey, you,” Christine managed to say as she
squinted upward to focus on the face in front of her.
    “How much did she have to drink?” Jason
asked, grimacing from the stench of Christine’s breath.
    “Too much,” said Kendal, who hardly ever
drank anything besides Diet Coke.
    Jason picked Christine up and took her to
another room so that she could lie down. The dorm room overflowed
with people. Kendal pushed through the adjoining door and found
four more guys in the next room, sitting in folding chairs around a
wobbly metal card table. She forced a smile, uncertain if she
wanted to stay or leave.
    “Want to play?” one of them asked.
    Kendal knew instantly who he was. Kyan
Stevens, the captain of the soccer team. He was cute, with dimples
that hung at the sides of his cheeks like half moons when he
smiled. His hair was mussed and he wore a polo shirt fitted close
to his chest. It was obviously a much smaller size than it needed
to be, perfect for showing off his toned body.
    Kendal looked away once she realized she’d
been staring a little too hard. She’d had previous brief
conversations with Kyan. He was the only guy at Sampson who had
never once looked her way since freshman year, yet here he was
asking her to sit and play cards.
    “It’s an easy game,” he said sweetly.
    Kendal stood there with her hands on her
hips. Her evening was pretty much a bust at this point. She finally
threw up her hands, said, “Sure, why not,” and took the empty seat
as the dealer dealt her in.
    Of course, this wasn’t a regular card game.
It was a drinking card game. There were heavy penalties for losing
a hand, penalties that involved downing a lot of beer in a very
short time. By the time Kendal finally won her first hand, she