This was fine. I was only reading about cockfighting just after presumably having my fate revealed to me, definitely no weird associations there for someone as sharp as Danielle Harp to pick up on. Absolutely no reason for her to think that my List was something vaguely criminal or associated with poultry fight clubs. Definitely fine. Even though I’d now been guiltily silent for a good ten seconds.
“Uhh…” A perfectly eloquent explanation, ten out of ten, no notes. “I… have you ever been looking something reasonable up and just kept clicking links on each article and ended up somewhere completely unexpected?” There, that was a decent excuse. I glanced at Danielle and found her brows furrowed, like she was deciding if my explanation was the strangest thing she’d ever heard or if she really needed to be looking into the history of cockfighting herself to find the answers. Of course, she probably planned out each avenue of every possible thing she’d ever looked up and never deviated from her perfect plan. I was clearly the strange one here.
“I mean,” I continued, rambling a bit to fill the silence. “I was thinking about the history of Lists, right?” I hadn’t been, of course, but it felt like that was a reasonable starting point. “All the oldest written records talk about them like they were already a fact of life, so they must have been around even in prehistory. And there were a lot of little decisions that have had an outsized impact on the world today. Like, some people have theorized that one of the big reasons chickens were domesticated was because of cockfighting. Did some guy in Southeast Asia thousands of years ago get his List and have it contain points like bring the birds home and pit them against each other? And now because he did that, we can order chicken nuggets at any fast food place. It’s just wild to think that something we do now might have that kind of impact so far in the future, even something that seems confusing or benign.”
That was some of the finest off the cuff bullshitting of my life, I deserve a pat on the back. For a moment there I forgot it wasn’t true! Thank you, Miss Reinhart, for your obsession with improv exercises. Never thought it would come in handy in a context like this, but life comes at you fast.
I could tell Danielle was trying to maintain her usual stony face, but more shock and consideration seemed to seep into it as my rambling went on. I didn’t think anything I was saying was particularly revolutionary minus the cockfighting angle that bad luck had forced on me, but maybe Fulfillers were different. That must be it, probably focusing on List completion strategies and puzzling out meanings more than considering historical speculation and the implications that strange points might have in the future.
None of that particularly mattered, as after I trailed off something drew my eye. Danielle was wearing a long-sleeved white blouse, but even under the harsh fluorescent lights of the library, I could see just a little more light trickling out. From the way her eyes immediately widened and snapped down to her wrist, she knew what was happening. I was beginning to think my List had been stolen by those around me in the form of extra luck.
There, in response to my conspiracy theory adjacent ramblings on cockfighting as the source of chicken nuggets, Danielle Harp received her first tick mark mere hours after receiving her List.
I was screaming internally. My questionably brilliant deflection strategy, such as it existed, relied on her seeing this whole exchange as something slightly odd but ultimately forgettable. There was no chance she would ever forget it now, as she pulled back her sleeve just enough to verify that yes, that had somehow happened. What kind of messed-up List did she have if that was her starting point? I wasn’t sure I wanted to know, but I was dead certain that I was going to be involved now.
“Connor.” Danielle whispered, leaning closer and cornering me further in the computer cubicle. It seemed there were limits to her stoic facade, and they had been utterly shattered by ticking off her first point. Her eyes were wider than I’d ever seen them, and I felt like I was peering beyond the shallows of those blue orbs for the first time. There was more emotion written on her face now than the total I’d ever seen from her before this moment. Confusion, elation, and gratitude were waging a three-way war for territory on her face, gratitude and elation forming an alliance and pushing confusion out of the trenches of her brows as they rose with her beaming smile. It was almost painfully genuine, a moment of intimacy I didn’t feel like I deserved to witness.
“Connor.” She repeated my name like a prayer and I know I’d never heard a sound as lovely. “I am going to hug you now.”
Before I had a chance to blue-screen and shut down, there were warm arms haltingly wrapping themselves around me. Beyond the awkward positioning of me in a chair and her standing, it was clear that Danielle didn’t have a lot of practice giving hugs. I was simultaneously touched to be trusted enough to get one and troubled that an eighteen year old could be so deprived of a basic gesture of physical comfort. On autopilot, I returned the hug as best I could, overwhelmed but unwilling to let her vulnerability go unanswered. That was about all my brain could handle, the rest of it occupied with a single line of thought: she smells nice. Like vanilla Earl Grey tea next to the fireplace in a fancy library with leather-bound books.
It was either thirty seconds or several days before I felt Danielle’s grip slacken as she pulled back, looking around surreptitiously to make sure that no one had seen our scandalous tryst. Luckily for us, there looked to be no enterprising eavesdroppers eager to spread the rumor that I’d melted the ice queen’s heart, everyone too absorbed in their own little worlds. Thank fate for self-absorbed teenagers.
“Um,” I babbled, my brain attempting to reboot. “Thank you?” I winced, that was obviously the wrong thing to say. “I mean, you’re welcome? I mean, I clearly have no idea what to say in this situation which is funny since it was just yesterday when I was talking to my sister and the same thing happened to her and is this just my life now, making random conversations that end with people getting their tick marks cause that doesn’t sound bad but also sounds a lot more dramatic than I really expected my life to be and I’m just gonna shut up now.” I closed my eyes briefly, willing time to rewind a minute and spare Danielle suffering my word vomit.
I heard a stifled giggle from where Danielle had been standing, so clearly my wishes were warping reality, since there’s no way someone so stoic and dignified would make that kind of sound. I opened my eyes and nope, that was the definition of composure Danielle Harp holding a hand against her mouth, a slight flush in her cheeks and mirth dancing in her eyes. Eat your heart out, Fatebreakers, I had officially overturned all logic in the world. The sun now rises in the west, cats love being bathed, and Danielle giggles and shows emotion. With the unstoppable power of improvised monologues, I will shape this world in my image.
“I’m sorry.” Danielle said, mouth still quirked into half a grin. “I’m probably shattering all your preconceptions of me right now.”
“Are you reading my mind?” I blurted. “Because I’d like to preemptively apologize for whatever you find in there, the curator is a real piece of work.”
She hummed in consideration. “I don’t know, it seems alright so far. A bit chaotic, but I don’t claim to understand art.”
I blinked, utterly nonplussed. “Did you just tease me?”
She shrugged.
“Holy shit, I broke you. I’m gonna go to prison - no, I won’t make it to prison, your parents are just gonna kill me first.”
A look I was much more familiar with pasted its way across her face: aloof detachment. “Yes… them.” She muttered, then shook her head. “I have a request, if you’ll indulge me.”
“Um, sure?”
“I’d like to keep this between us. It’s not you!” She insisted, and I guess my confusion must have come across as hurt. “My parents are Fulfillers to the core. They ticked off each others’ first mark and now they believe there’s a fated connection between people responsible for that first tick mark on someone else. So they wouldn’t kill you, but if they knew you’d ticked off mine after a single conversation, kidnapping might be on the table.”
“Well that’s not terrifying at all.” I shuddered. They wouldn’t phrase it as kidnapping, of course, but a polite invitation from the Harp family was something very few people in the state could afford to refuse. I certainly wasn’t one of the senators or business magnates that could pull it off.
“Sorry.” Danielle did look genuinely apologetic. “They… well, I used to think they meant well.” She grumbled. This was rapidly turning into not just a glimpse behind the curtain, but a full backstage pass. It didn’t look like the theater was in great shape either, clear signs of rot and water damage once you passed out of sight of the main stage. The difference between the Danielle who had been giggling and the one now was stark. She was clinging to her usual facade to hide the hurt and anger, and I knew it took a lot for any trace of emotion to break through her control.
Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.
“Hey.” I said softly. “I get it if I’m not exactly your first choice to talk to about this kind of thing, but I get the feeling you don’t have a lot of options.” I cringed. My foot was taking an extended vacation in my mouth, it seemed. “Just… I don’t know. If you need to vent or something? I can at least listen. Dunno if I buy us being bound by fate because of a lucky tick mark, but it seems like the least I can do.”
Her eyes softened and she extended her hand. “Give me your phone.” She ordered. I unlocked it and handed it over without even thinking about it. That combination of caring eyes and firm voice just wasn’t fair. She typed away for a bit before handing it back, and I heard her own phone vibrate in her pocket. “There. Even if we aren’t bound by fate, we can still be friends.”
I looked down at the phone she had just handed back like it contained all the secrets of the world. Well, at the very least it had one now: Danielle Harp’s phone number. Never thought I’d see the day, but I hadn’t seen any of the past twenty-four hours as possible outside my wildest dreams and nightmares. This was definitely on the dream end of the spectrum.
Danielle pulled out her phone and frowned as she presumably saved my contact information. “Still half an hour until lunch, and I have no idea what to do with myself now.”
I chuckled. “Well, that makes two of us.” She glanced at me, and I shrugged. “I wasn’t exactly kidding earlier, about the history research. I thought it might give me some perspective.” Technically true, if incredibly misleading. Simply looking up if people without Lists really existed would do nothing except find me conspiracy boards and crappy creepypastas.
“Ah.” She was clearly curious, but restraining herself. “Well, I hope you know you can call on me if you need advice.” She wiggled the phone in her hand and it was just about the most adorably awkward thing I’d ever seen. “I… I’ll let you get back to your research.”
“Nah, I don’t think I was getting anywhere. Just going down a rabbit hole.” I waved it off. “You have any obligations for the rest of the day, miss prez?”
She arched an eyebrow. “I am obligated to ask you not to call me that again.”
“Your rule is harsh, but fair.”
“And the answer is no. I was given today to experience my own Fool’s Day uninterrupted.”
“Cool, cool. Well, I don’t exactly want to bare my soul in one of the discussion groups and this solo research isn’t getting me anywhere, so… wanna hang out, friend?”
“Oh.” My simple suggestion seemed to have utterly baffled Danielle. “I suppose we could, yes. I’m afraid I was dropped off by our chauffeur this morning, so we’ll have to stay here at school.”
“Ah, yeah, same here. Well, mom instead of chauffeur, but you get the picture.”
“Well… there’s a coffee machine and some snacks in the student council office, and I don’t believe anyone is using it today.”
I gestured broadly. “Lead the way, my liege.”
“You are incorrigible.” She said dryly.
“I don’t even know the meaning of the word.”
“I’ll pick up a dictionary on our way out, then.” She jabbed back, and I grinned. This was exactly what I needed, a distraction. Somehow I’d fallen back on some of the bantering habits I usually used with Jerry, but Danielle was actually responding to them now. It was like she’d stepped off the page and I was finally seeing her in three dimensions. It kind of made me want to kick her parents, but that was a pipe dream. It wouldn’t change anything, anyway. Their reputation was as solid and inflexible as they were, apparently. If living well was the best revenge, well, I doubt they envisioned Danielle getting her first tick mark from asking a random classmate about cockfighting. Couldn’t live much better than that, right?
I’d never been in the student council room before, but one look and it all screamed Danielle. Everything seemed meticulously placed, and my fingers itched with a catlike urge to push something out of position just to see what would happen. I restrained myself as Danielle busied herself putting on a pot of coffee, idly opening drawers and poking around the pens and notebooks inside. Restraint was perhaps a strong word. I was limiting the scope of my disruption, that was more honest.
“What are you doing?” She asked, sitting across from me. I pulled out a notebook and a couple of pens just to have something to fiddle with.
“Mostly distracting myself. Today’s been kind of surreal, you know?”
She gave an amused huff. “It certainly hasn’t gone the way I thought it would.” She paused. “I’m glad.”
“Oh?” I idly flicked the lid of a pen on and off. “No offense, but I always thought you were the type to have a plan for everything.”
“I am.” She wrinkled her nose. “It’s how I was raised.”
“Ah, say no more.”
“I thought you told me that you could listen if I needed to vent or something.”
“Then go ahead girl, spill that tea.”
She glanced over to the bubbling pot. “That’s coffee. And I don’t want to make more work for the janitors.”
I groaned. “Alright, I’m adding slang and memes to the list of things you need further instruction in. It shall be a long and arduous journey, but for the sake of a better world I am prepared to walk it.”
She shook her head. “You seem very different today.”
“Fool’s Day, new journey, new me!” I shrugged. “Or maybe the last time we really had a long conversation was that project sophomore year and I was even more intimidated by you back then.”
“I’m sorry if I came across as unapproachable.” She seemed troubled by the notion, even if it was absolutely true.
“It wasn’t all you. I was a lot more nervous back then too. I remember mostly being concerned with not being dead weight in the partnership.”
She stiffened for a moment before muttering almost inaudibly. “And to think that was my best interaction with a classmate until today.”
I couldn’t help it; I stared. “That might be the saddest thing I’ve ever heard.”
She gave a humorless laugh as she got up to pour the coffee. “I’m aware. You know, even before today, you were probably the person I considered closest to a friend here at school?”
“Now I’m honored, flustered, and incredibly sad for you at once. That’s a confusing feeling. The Germans probably have a word for it, even if it’s eleven syllables long.” I shook my head slowly. “Your parents really did a number on you, huh?”
She set the coffee in front of me and retook her seat silently, her gaze far away. “I have to believe they had a reason for it.” She said simply. There were so many layers to unpack there, but I couldn’t find it in myself to do anything except take a sip of coffee. We’d only started talking about anything remotely personal today, and as desperate as she clearly was for companionship and therapy, I was nowhere near qualified to give it and terrified of screwing up. I’d obviously gained her trust by ticking off whatever strange point had been first on her List, but the last thing I wanted to do was trample over that trust like her parents clearly had. I had to take things as she was willing to dole them out and leave the door open for her to divulge more or pull back.
We descended into a brief silence, which I spent alternately sipping the coffee Danielle had doubtlessly stocked based on its quality and attempting to fold a paper crane. My fifth grade class had read a book featuring them, and our teacher had given extra credit for actually learning how to make them ourselves. That had kicked off my brief origami phase, lasting all of a summer before the onset of middle school washed it away. My attempts now only came in moments like these, where I needed something to do that was just distracting enough without actually occupying my full attention. Today’s end result was woefully asymmetrical, but I was a bit proud I’d remembered all the steps as I pushed it across the table to Danielle. She raised an eyebrow but took the crane anyway, picking it up to inspect it from all angles. When she finally spoke, it was quiet and contemplative.
“This is much better than I ever managed.” She mused, eyes still glued to the crane like she was speaking to it directly. “I didn’t read the book until just before high school. It was all part of my grand plan back then, reviewing and experiencing as much of the public school curriculum as I could before starting, just so I’d have a better chance at connecting with everyone.” She chuckled mirthlessly. “Great idea in theory, in reality not many high school freshmen spend their time discussing books they had to read in elementary school. And I suppose I’d already gotten my wish when my parents agreed to let me attend public school normally. I think I only ever folded a dozen or so.”
“I’d wondered about that before today.” I replied, mimicking her soft volume and slow cadence. “Not how many cranes you’d ever folded, but why you chose to come to Glenbrook High instead of somewhere fancier.”
“Normalcy.” She sighed. “Guess that was never in the cards for me, though. Went out the window as soon as that first roll call when everyone heard my last name. Can’t escape the gilded cage that easily.”
“Normal’s overrated anyway.” I said. “Which isn’t to say I don’t see the appeal, especially now.”
She cocked her head to the side in curiosity. “Something tells me this isn’t just you sympathizing with my sheltered upbringing.”
“I’d use a harsher word than sheltered.”
“And you’re deflecting.” She blinked. “Not that you have to tell me, but I was led to believe that’s what friends do. Your offer to vent isn’t just one-way. You probably have closer friends, though, it’s not an obligation or anything-”
“Breathe.” I interrupted. “It’s fine, I know what you mean.” I leaned back and stared at the ceiling for a few seconds. “I think I’ll probably take you up on that at some point. Right now I’m still wrapping my head around it. It’s like the dog chasing the car, you know? Spent so long waiting for it and don’t know what to do now that it’s here.”
“I… alright.” Danielle spoke without any of her usual confidence. “I just don’t want things to get unbalanced.”
“First rule of friendship, my young apprentice.” I intone with all due gravitas. “Friends don’t keep score.”