Lunch was a massive indication as to how weird the whole weekend would be. Somehow, after eating, everyone piled into Cat’s dorm, and while she sat in the furthest corner on her bed, they tore through her clothes in her closet, lifting things up, looking to Peter, who stood off to the side like Miranda from The Devil Wears Prada, shaking his head or pursing his lips.

Cat tried to tune them out by staring at her phone. She had her next counseling appointment in about an hour, but she kept clicking over to Talkative. No new message from PumpkinKing yet. The day was half over. This was the longest they’d gone without talking since she reinstalled the stupid app. What if she did really ruin it all? What if acting like a space cadet yesterday sealed the deal, and he made up his mind to move on from her?

“...have one pair of jeans?” Cat glanced up from her phone to see Cam holding her only pair of jeans in his hand, staring at her as if she was psychotic.

“I don’t like pants,” she said, shrugging and returning to her phone.

“But you wear tights and leggings all the time!”

Cat sighed. “Is this going to take long? I’ve got a thing to go to at four.”

“Fine, fine, fine,” Kelsey groaned. She snatched the pants out of Cam’s hand and muttered something to Hannah, who returned to her own closet. “So we have a few outfits to pick out for our photoshoot tomorrow. We just wanted a couple pics of you in that tree--you know, that tree?” Cat nodded even though she didn’t. “So we thought jeans would be safe, since it’s supposed to be windy. You cool with one of Hannah’s sweaters?” Again, Cat nodded without looking up. She was perfectly content looking at PumpkinKing’s history to see if he had posted anything on the app, or if he wasn’t actually on it at all. But a flash of red in Kelsey’s hand caught her attention.

“Not that one,” Cat snapped. Not that red sweater. Not the one she borrowed that night--

“Huh?” Hannah asked, waiting for her to repeat what she said.

“But you’d look so cute in it!” Kelsey cried. “Red is so your color!” Cat’s heart froze in her chest. In the back of her mind, she could hear faded hip-hop music, smell the grease from delivered pizza, taste watered-down beer. Her stomach lurched.

“No.” Cat tried to keep her tone soft, but it still sounded too sharp to her own ears. Peter sat up a little straighter.

“Why not?” her friend pressed. Was she stupid?

“I’m not wearing that.” Her eyes snapped to Cam, who stood in a sort of T-pose with hangers of other outfits on him. One yellow dress she hadn’t worn since last year, the black and red dress from Halloween, and a different dress that was white and floral, but had mostly red roses on it. Cat scrambled off her bed without another thought, shaking her head and snatching the latter two options off of Cam’s arm. She balled them up, hangers included. Her voice cracked. “No. This is stupid. I’m not wearing those. They don’t--they don’t fit right.” Cat shoved them into her trash bin on top of her granola bar wrappers and an unfinished breakfast burrito, then snatched her messenger bag off the floor. Her friends’ protests never even reached her ears.

“I’ve got a thing to go to,” she lied. She’d be a full half hour early to her appointment if she left now, but she didn’t care. She couldn’t stay in this room. It was too warm, too red….

“Cat,” Peter said once her hand fell on the handle. Why was it always his voice that she heard the clearest? Everyone else asking her questions, giving her alternatives--their words were just noise in the background. But she looked at him, he was silent, just mouthing to her. She knew he was counting. He hardly got to three, but she took a deep breath, just to show him she understood. Cam and Hannah still tried to ask her what the hell she was doing while Kelsey lifted her now-ruined dresses out of her trash bin.

Cat let out her breath slowly, to the counting she continued from Peter’s prompting. “I’ll be back later.”

The appointment with her counselor took far more energy than Cat allotted for the day. The first half was spent identifying triggers for her anxiety attacks, which now consisted of the broad category of “red clothes,” to Cat’s disappointment. Or, rather, it wasn’t red clothes. Just that one bit.

“You’re already doing the right thing,” Dr. Harvey said with a warm smile. “You successfully breathed and walked through an anxiety attack on your way here. That’s huge!” The praise may as well have been Hannah and Kelsey telling her how cute she looked in that red sweater. Cat shrugged.

“I was still set off by a sweater, and I’m still so exhausted I feel like I could go to bed for a year.” Dr. Harvey wasn’t having her dismissive response, and leaned forward in her chair.

“Your body is unconsciously looking at every little thing in this room that might remind you of that trauma, assessing it, and cataloging it for later. That is an exhausting task.” Well. She hadn’t thought of it like that. “Your body is just trying to protect you. It’s going a little too hard at it, but that’s what this is. It’s nothing to be ashamed of, or to be dismissive of. You’re undoing instincts right now. That’s not an easy feat.” When Cat finally looked at her fidgeting hands, the doctor had one last bit of advice: “It takes a lot to unlearn fear. Be patient with yourself.”

In the name of compassion, Cat let herself be tired that night. She returned to an empty dorm room and a sticky note on her bed.

We’re giving you space I guess. Text me if you want dinner. - H.

Cat tossed the note in her recycle bin, only to find that her trash had been taken out for her. No dresses, no breakfast burrito, empty. She stood in the middle of her room, counting in her head to control her breathing. Focus on compassion for yourself, the doctor said. Well. In that case, all she wanted to do was curl up in a ball on her bed and continue reading Arabian Nights for her English class.

So that was what she did. Well, sort of. The words were on the page, and she said them in her head as she read, but they didn’t stick. Her eyes kept darting to the clock, then to her phone. No texts, no messages of any kind. It was already eight PM, and the “space” her friends gave her began to sound a hell of a lot more like a Peter thing than something Kelsey or Cam or Hannah would come up with.

Cat’s hands kept hovering on the silent group chat, itching to write that she was out, that she couldn’t be the face of this catfishing attempt. But eventually, she just set her phone down to be charged on her nightstand and let the memory of Peter’s counting lull her to sleep.

Technology never worked in dreams, not like it was supposed to. This one was no different. Cat sat and stared at her phone, at a text message from PumpkinKing. Her stomach twisted into knots at his simple “hi :)” text, and no part of her found it strange that he was texting her rather than messaging her on Talkative like usual. She went to reply, but looked up from her phone to see Peter sitting across from her with his usual, judgy face.

“That him?” he asked, gesturing to her phone. When she looked down to Pumpkin’s text, his simple salutation morphed into something else.

Are you cheating on me? :(

Cat’s eyes bulged. What? Of course not!

I thought you liked me.

“Just stringing him along?” Peter added.

“No!” But saying it didn’t make her fingers work to type. For whatever reason, she couldn’t bring herself to reply to Pumpkin, and could only watch his replies appear between glances to Peter’s looks of pity.

You said you had really strong feelings for me, Pumpkin continued, and I waited for you. But you never let me in.

“Kind of sad,” finished dream-Peter. Finally, Cat’s shaking hands set her phone down, giving up on a reply all together. “You just...let people go. I know more about you than your closest friends. Than your family, even.”

“That’s--that’s not--that’s not true!” she tried to argue, but he shook his head at her, slow, knowing. “I can’t even stand to be around you!” He rolled his eyes at her.

“Then why?” His tone took a more challenging form; when she stared at him, he started to smile, as if he knew something she had yet to figure out.

“Why what?” When she blinked, he suddenly held a mocha ice cream bar in his hand, unwrapping it as he gestured to her.

“Why didn’t we eat ice cream?” Huh? He threw his wrapper to the neighboring trash can, and pointed at her with his popsicle. “We were supposed to eat ice cream.” This felt important. Like she was supposed to understand whatever it was he was referring to, but other than the frustration of an unsolved puzzle, Cat was left with nothing.

It was the sun’s fault. Or maybe it was Hannah’s. It was the sun’s fault for rising at that moment, and Hannah’s fault for not shutting the window covers tightly enough when she finally came to bed. Maybe dream-Peter would have said something else, something that would make any sense at all, but instead, she found herself staring at the ceiling of her dorm room, annoyed...and now craving ice cream.

The first thing she did, like every morning, was grab her phone blindly and bring it to her face to check messages...but there weren’t any. PumpkinKing had yet to message her.

“Hey, you’re awake,” Hannah’s soft voice sounded from across the room. “I didn’t wake you, did I?” Cat twisted to see her roommate with her laptop and a book open on her bed, still in her pajamas.

“No, I just woke up naturally,” answered Cat with a thick throat. As she sat up and reached for her water bottle, Hannah took the opportunity to dive into whatever worries kept her from returning until late.

“So I wanted to apologize for going a little HAM yesterday--”

“It’s fine,” Cat said, waving her hand. “I overreacted. The sweater just--”

“It’s gone.”

“Hm?”

“I threw out the sweater. I never wore it, and it triggered you, and Peter said that--”

“You didn’t have to throw it out….” And Peter didn’t have to open his stupid, fat mouth any time she didn’t explicitly tell him to be quiet about something. Come on!

“I wanted to.” Hannah’s voice carried a heaviness to it, an additional message. Cat pursed her lips, but nodded. A show of support. She couldn’t be there when Cat actually wore the sweater, so she would throw away the thing all together. Did she seriously feel bad for not being there after the whole Nate situation? By her expression, it certainly seemed like it. But Cat was the one that didn’t say anything.... Dream-Peter’s expression came back to the forefront of her mind, now. Only he was looking a whole lot like real-Peter, smug, with an I-told-you-so expression. He told her to talk to someone about it. Well...

After a few moments of silence, Hannah filled the air with a gentle change of topic. “Are you still up for today?”

As she set her water bottle back down on her nightstand, Cat gave a reluctant nod as she returned her attention to the present. “Sure. But I’ve got ceramics to catch up on, so it can’t take all day.”

Hannah brightened up at the prospect. “No problem. I have the rest of the account set up already, we just need your pictures.” No pressure or anything.

Apparently, everyone was told to wait on standby in a separate group chat that didn’t include Cat. When she came back from her shower, everyone once again crowded in her room, Cam holding a tote bag already half-full of stuff.

“So I’m thinking you should do simple makeup,” Kelsey dived in right away. Cat still stood in the doorway, in a robe, as her friend continued, “No bronzer or blush or anything, just eyeliner, mascara--we can change out the lip with whatever outfit.” She hardly took a step into her own room before Hannah held up a dark blue cardigan with a white dress from Cat’s closet.

“Can I get dressed, please?” she asked with an annoyed tone to her voice. The girls giggled, the guys went to leave, but Peter hesitated.

“Coconut?” he asked to the air. Cat didn’t look at him, and remained frozen in place with one hand holding her robe shut at the top, and the other pulling the bottom down on her thigh more. She’d shown a lot more skin to them before, but after such a raw afternoon yesterday, after such a strange dream where Peter’s face interrogated her about something she held so secret, Cat couldn’t help but feel a little exposed.

“Pina colada!” was Cam’s helpful addition to Peter’s comment from the hallway.

Peter’s voice sounded distant. “My favorite aunt used to do that to her hair, too: put coconut oil in it.” Hand on the doorknob, he muttered to himself, “I hope she’s still alive.” Cat wanted to slam the door.

He didn’t have to keep reminding her about how shitty his life was. She already agreed to help! It wasn’t necessary to make those offhanded comments about how he had no contact with anyone in his family, and that this was the only shot he had at talking to his brother. God, what an ass.

Keeping her comments to herself, Cat layered on the outfits her friends decided she’d wear, put on the directed makeup, and kept her hair down and ready to change with her outfits. On the short walk to the park beside campus, Kelsey and Hannah planned poses, and Cam offered advice on how to make it all look more authentic, so it wasn’t all photos of just Cat.

Cat prepped for the first picture, adjusting her hair, checking her eyeliner, smoothing out the dress, and stood by Peter. His eyes were glued to his phone--surprise--while everyone else took pictures of the clouds that looked like Barney the Dinosaur, some flowers, and, apparently, one of Cat when she was busy cursing Peter in her head.

“Hm?” She looked up to Hannah, who laughed at her, then gestured for Cat to get into place.

“You look like you’re planning a murder. It was funny. Anyway!” Hannah pointed to a spot in front of the centerpiece of the tiny park, a giant oak tree. “So we’re gunna do this tricky kind of shot, where Kelsey and Cam are in the pics, but their faces won’t fully be shown or anything so that it looks like you have friends.”

At Peter’s snort, Cat glared as she said, “Catrina. That Catrina has friends.”

“Right, Catrina. Stand there, and Cam and Kelsey on either side, right....” The trio followed Hannah’s instructions for the next hour, using lighting and different bunches of weeds, tree branches, and hair to slightly obstruct their faces. Hannah insisted the photos looked great, and that the different outfits they all changed into were relatively convincing. Well, since Cam and Kelsey wore jeans, it was really just taking off a jacket and putting on another, and Cat’s outfit changes were a little more precise and pre-planned. Thankfully, from having to share a room with her little brother for so long, she learned how to change without fully exposing herself. Or rather, it was just the mastery of putting clothes on top of clothes and taking the under layer off. She wasn’t planning on getting arrested for indecent exposure doing a photoshoot for Peter’s brother.

Either way, Cat’s patience was already thin, and growing thinner by the minute. The wind made it feel like it was ten degrees colder than it actually was, and now that her friends were wearing jackets and she was left in a strappy summer dress and flip flops, it was difficult to smile on demand.

“Okay, you look annoyed again,” Hannah said from behind her phone. “Try smiling for real.” Cat let out an audible sigh.

“I do have stuff to do today….”

Cameron dismissed her with a wave. “We all have stuff to do.”

“I don’t have anything to do today,” Peter mumbled from the sidelines. Still looking at his stupid phone. Cat grit her teeth.

“Then maybe you should actually act like you want to be here,” she snapped. Finally, he looked up.

“Excuse me?” He was offended? Hannah slowly lowered her phone, searching to the friends on either side of her for help.

Cat crossed her arms to try and slow her shivering. “We’ve been doing this for you, and you’ve hardly looked up from your phone!”

“It’s not like I can be in the photos--”

“No shit, Sherlock! But you could--”

“I’ve got something to do!” Cameron announced, holding up his hand to try and stop them from arguing. “Maybe we can finish this really quick and we can be on our way?” Cat still stared at Peter, lips pursed, shivering, daring him to say something back. But maybe that thick skull held a brain after all, because all he did was stare at her. Perhaps because he knew that in an instant, this could all be over. No photos, no using her face.

“We’ve got enough,” Cat insisted instead. She bent down to pick up her jacket from the tote bag. “I’ve got to catch up on ceramics.”

“Great!” Hannah chirped, much to Cat’s surprise. “Can I use your projects as some B-roll?” She squinted at her. Was she completely incapable of reading the situation here? Normally, she was so good at it.

Cameron took the tote from Cat’s hands as she asked, “What’s B-roll?”

“I’ve got some errands to run, so--” Kelsey jabbed her finger back toward campus, and with a supporting nod from Cam, the two immediately twisted around to leave. Escaping. Those bastards.

“B-roll doesn’t work in this scenario,” was Peter’s helpful, stupid comment. Cat rolled her eyes.

“Some pics of your projects!” Hannah didn’t even register that two fifths of their group had suddenly disappeared. She didn’t register that Cat stood there in front of her with negative patience, even though she didn’t even try to hide how pissed off she was.

“Whatever, sure. I don’t care.” Cat shrugged as she grabbed for her messenger bag. Maybe she was being rude, especially since Hannah didn’t really deserve that kind of tone, but she was far too cold and irritated to deal with this right now.

“Great!” Hannah repeated. “Come on, Peter. You said you don’t have anything to do, right?” Cat hesitated, now, staring ahead at Cam and Kelsey, who weren’t that far ahead, but were walking quickly as if they were being chased.

“Hm? I don’t, but--”

“Cool, we’ll just hang out with Cat while she does her clay stuff!” As Hannah said this, Cat fought the urge to whirl around and uninvite her. What was she doing? Ceramics was the only place that Cat found peace, and now she was not only tagging along, but bringing Peter? For no good reason?

Cat started walking back to campus with a stomach full of irritation and a clenched jaw, to boot. But at some point, when she glanced over to Hannah, her irritation burned away into an acidic dread. Hannah’s smile was bigger than the day was long, and upon meeting Cat’s gaze, she gave a devilish wink.

Oh, boy.