{"id":5237,"date":"2024-11-18T00:00:00","date_gmt":"2024-11-18T08:00:00","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/dornsife.usc.edu\/palaver\/?p=5237"},"modified":"2024-11-17T15:39:38","modified_gmt":"2024-11-17T23:39:38","slug":"fraught-across-state-lines","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/dornsife.usc.edu\/palaver\/fall-2024\/fraught-across-state-lines\/","title":{"rendered":"Fraught Across State Lines"},"content":{"rendered":"\n\n\n\n\n \n \n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n
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Fraught Across State Lines<\/h1>\n\n\n<\/div>\n \n \n By<\/span>Charlotte Hass<\/strong>\n \n November 18, 2024<\/span>\n <\/div>\n<\/div>\n\n\n <\/div><\/div>\n\n \n \n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n
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\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 If a woman hooks up with a man in his dingy studio apartment and the government isn\u2019t around to condemn it, did they even have sex?\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 Playing, <\/span><\/i>he had called it. <\/span>Screwing, boning, taking her to bed. <\/span><\/i>It was crass and carnal, a compulsion, so nobody could blame the body for its want. <\/span>Making love, <\/span><\/i>she had countered, sort of kidding, with a voice masked by sardonicism. <\/span>The joining of two distinct souls. <\/span><\/i>But Pei and Thomas were not best friends, so the joke lost itself in translation.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 In all her life, Pei had kissed five boys, and Pei had loved five boys. Before Thomas, she\u2019d only had sex with one of them. She was a romantic, she told herself, but it wasn\u2019t true. Thomas was brash, petulant in his youth, and not the kind to stay over after the deed was done. Maybe he was tomorrow\u2019s mistake, a face\u2014a country. Maybe he was nothing.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 Thomas ran his thumb along Pei\u2019s birthmark, hairline to cheek, and grinned, loopy and fearless, while Pei thought about sex and the death penalty, the death penalty\u2019s sex, sex\u2019s death penalty, sex\u2019s sexy death.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u201cYou\u2019re so <\/span>pretty,\u201d <\/span><\/i>he said. He tried flirting and capsized his watered-down Manhattan on ice with a crashing elbow.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u201cYour hands are cold,\u201d Pei replied.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u201cBut not\u2026 you look <\/span>real. <\/span><\/i>You\u2019re pretty in a believable way, you know?\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u201cI don\u2019t know.\u201d Pei laughed. She didn\u2019t know if she should have, if he was trying to be funny or insightful or backhanded. She could never tell with guys like Thomas, what they meant when their erudite facades crumbled under the pulse of alcohol. \u201cCan you explain?\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 But Thomas didn\u2019t want to explain; instead, he cupped Pei\u2019s cheek and leaned in, and Pei felt months of semi-formal relationship whirling between them. With their proximity came a fruitless thought: had Thomas approached her, armed with the pretense of friendship, because he\u2019d wanted <\/span>this, <\/span><\/i>nothing more? <\/span>They really shouldn\u2019t make those top shelves so tall, <\/span><\/i>he\u2019d said as he stretched to collect an item she couldn\u2019t recall now\u2014he didn\u2019t own a headboard; she felt undressed through her t-shirt\u2014and when his stance flattened, he\u2019d winked and noted her Vanderbilt hoodie. <\/span>You\u2019re smart. I can tell.\u00a0<\/span><\/i><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 Would they be friends in the morning?\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 She pulled back. \u201cI\u2019m moving next year. When the spring semester\u2019s up.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 Nothing shifted. \u201cTo where?\u201d He kissed her neck.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u201cNorth. Vermont, maybe. Connecticut, if I can afford it. I know it\u2019s\u2026 predicable\u2014\u201d she had almost said <\/span>cliche \u201c\u2014<\/span><\/i>but I want to live in New York eventually. I think I liked the wrong things about <\/span>The Bell Jar, Catcher in the Rye. <\/span><\/i>They make the city sound so sensual. Church-like.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 Thomas latched onto Pei\u2019s jawline with a cannibal hunger. She felt sick, suddenly, like a child that had feigned fever until the heat became real. \u201cOr maybe Jersey. Newark. I don\u2019t mind commuting.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 Her words stumbled, liquor-drenched. The bed spun when she tried to move. She waited for Thomas to care.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 Instead, he scrunched his nose. \u201cNew York. So filthy there. So\u2026\u201d He threw his arms up flippantly, painting the city\u2019s most grotesque features in the space between them. \u201cYou\u2019d be miserable. Anyone would.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u201cI like Nashville.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u201cNashville is tame. New York has teeth.\u201d Thomas\u2019 lips were lust-bitten, though they hadn\u2019t kissed anything but a chapped mouth, his shoulders rolling forward, forward\u2014 this was foreplay. Anything Pei said would only get him off. \u201cIt would eat you alive. Even you, with your optimism.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 He choked on the word half-swallowed and laughed to himself. Pei said, \u201cMy optimism?\u201d She felt herself brighten and she lulled towards him, sickened, exotic.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u201cYeah. My ex lived in the city, and it broke her.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 And then, they were kissing again, only this time, Pei heard the twilight moan, the walls of the apartment howl in earnest\u2014or was it protest?\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 They undressed after a while. Moved like a sloppy time signature, hastened as the moon shrunk from view. She must have been enjoying it, Pei thought, since neither of them asked to stop. \u201cDo you have\u2026\u201d Pei huffed, caged between Thomas\u2019s arms. Thomas reached into his bedside table and revealed his contraband.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u201cMy brother\u2019s. Saves his leftover rations for me. He and his wife want a baby, poor bastards.\u201d And then, Thomas grazed his teeth against the nape of Pei\u2019s neck\u2014a lion brutalizing his gazelle\u2014an appetizer\u2014and she groaned. Her vision went white with snow.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 Encouraged, Thomas moved in for the kill.<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u2014<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 His car sped through the lip of Tennessee with a periodic cough, the white metal exoskeleton shaking, bloodless. Thomas hadn\u2019t moved his eyes from the road since their departure. How quickly their evening together had soured in the days that followed. At each mile marker, Pei balanced on the cusp of a quantum event\u2014did she exist if he didn\u2019t observe her?\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 And she had been right; Thomas had asked her to leave before dawn.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u201cSore throat?\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 Thomas glared at her a moment, and Pei materialized.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u201cIt\u2019s just, you haven\u2019t talked in a while. Are you on vocal rest? Did you catch a cold?\u201d <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 He reddened. \u201cNo.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u201cGood.\u201d She adjusted the AC. It was too hot to drive. \u201cWe\u2019re making good time. Should be in Virginia before sunset.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u201cUh-huh.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u201cOkay, then,\u201d Pei drawled. But Thomas\u2019s Honda Civic could not carry two tempers, so she pivoted. \u201cSahar says she can meet us for lunch or dinner tomorrow, depending on when we drive through Philidelphia.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 Nothing.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u201cShe says we\u2019ve got to try an authentic Philly cheese steak.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 And yet again, the observer made his object a frequency wave.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 Pei hummed away the half-hour. A sign off the interstate announced the toll booth up ahead. She blanched. Tennessee wasn\u2019t forgiving\u2014not like the North.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u201cPull over,\u201d said Pei, her throat scratchy with novelty. \u201cI have to hide.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 Thomas did as he was told, glowering through petty inconvenience, and in a gravelly CVS parking lot, Pei folded herself into the trunk. She ached immediately.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u201cOkay, I think I\u2019m ready.\u201d A tremor in her voice, a solemn prayer to some atheistic god, and Thomas pressed a false wall to Pei\u2019s body. Now, his trunk appeared smaller and empty. \u201cDoes it look real? Can you see me?\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u201cI think so,\u201d said Thomas. Pei shut her eyes before the trunk closed, as if she could repel the darkness by inviting it first. \u201cStay down.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 Pei heard the rush of the road, felt the skin of her cheek jostle against her coffin and winced but made no sound. Eventually, they slowed. Thomas rolled down a window. It sounded tinny and frank and cheap. He said, \u201cHow are you doing, officer?\u201d and \u201cNo, no, just me today\u201d and \u201cGo right <\/span>ahead; nothing here.\u201d He kept his tone light as he talked through opened doors, mirrors, center consoles (and laughter like a bullet. The cop found cigarettes and vitamins and dubbed it all ironic). Finally, the trunk opened. Pei\u2019s body itched with unreality. The black whispered, <\/span>Do something\u2014do anything. Prove you can affect the unaffected.\u00a0<\/span><\/i><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 There was the sound of the road and the jangling of keys, the unending pulse of a timid heart\u2014pounding loudly, ritualistic\u2014and the trunk was shut again, and Pei\u2019s lungs burned to breathe. The police officer said something about an ID, gender certification, and while Thomas rummaged he laughed about how \u201cyou could never tell these days.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u201cThanks for making my job easy,\u201d came the gruff voice one last time. \u201cBunch o\u2019 chicks on a girls\u2019 trip used up all my pregnancy tests. Couldn\u2019t let them off \u2018cause half of them looked it.\u201d Thomas laughed.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 Pei\u2019s joints throbbed long after she reclaimed the passenger seat.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u2014<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

In Virginia, they stopped at a gas station. Thomas had to pee. She waited there, doors locked. There were men on either side of her\u2014men standing by the gas pumps, men with their women, men walking in and out uncaring\u2014and Pei wondered if she was stronger than the gangly guy by the trash can, the stubby one with tattoos.<\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 Thomas returned with a Coke and a pack of Marbolos. Pei coughed in anticipation of the stench.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u201cYou smoke?\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u201cYou know I do. You made that bitchy comment after the toll booth.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u201cDon\u2019t call me bitchy.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u201cYou said, \u2018That\u2019s so dumb, Thomas. You\u2019re killing yourself willingly.\u2019\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 Pei tutted. She thought about asking Thomas to accompany her inside, but he\u2019d only laugh. \u201cSo, you <\/span>do <\/span><\/i>listen to me. You can quote me verbatim.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u201cJust the annoying bits.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u201cDon\u2019t call me a bitch, please.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 If she softened the ask, maybe he\u2019d listen. Thomas liked soft women. Or, maybe he had a kink for rounded the edges of sharp ones. He\u2019d never called her a bitch before now. \u201cI didn\u2019t call you a bitch,\u201d he sighed. \u201cI said you were <\/span>being <\/span><\/i>bitchy, which isn\u2019t permanent or anything.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u201cThere\u2019s no difference. Bitch or bitchy\u2014it\u2019s all the same.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u201cNo, it\u2019s not. \u2018Bitchy\u2019 is something you can fix.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 Inside, licking the residual taste of diesel from her lips, Pei breathed real air. She counted the tiles from the register to the door. On it hung a shoddy sign that read, \u201cSmile\u2014you\u2019re on camera,\u201d but Pei hadn\u2019t seen any cameras at the front.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 Because the cameras were in the bathroom. Two lenses, one pointed at the sink, one at the trash can. Blinking. When she sat on the toilet, the latter just missed her knees. The eyes of Virginia law ogled her. Pei hated to exist this way.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 On her way out, Pei brought a lemonade to the register, an excuse to pry.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u201cI have to ask\u2014the cameras in the bathroom. Are they\u2026is that normal? I don\u2019t live here.\u201d The attendant scanned her surroundings, then the lemonade. \u201cThey\u2019re new. And legal, if that\u2019s what you\u2019re asking.\u201d Her tone exhausted disgust, but her face was flat. \u201cBecause they don\u2019t record audio.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u201cWhy are they there?\u201d Pei steeled herself between question and answer.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u201cA girl tried to force a miscarriage last month. Used a hanger she brought from home. She got caught, obviously. Someone called the cops.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 Pei didn\u2019t want to know. She asked, \u201cIs she okay?\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u201cOkay? No, I think she died on the way to the station. Will that be all for you today?\u201d As if she\u2019d told this story a hundred times.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u2014<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

They pulled over for the night at a Maryland rest stop. Pei needed every dime she had for the procedure, and Thomas refused to swing for a motel, so she made her sweatshirt a privacy curtain and tried to sleep. Couldn\u2019t, flipped on the radio, tried again.<\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 Thomas turned it off.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u201cI need that. I need noise.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u201cWell, I can\u2019t sleep with it on, and I\u2019m driving tomorrow.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u201cThen I\u2019ll drive. I saw you getting tired earlier. Road hypnosis, maybe. Please.\u201d Thomas faced her, numb in the space between life and death. \u201cTalk, then.\u201d A beat. \u201cCome on. You were wiped after our pillow talk.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 Pei hardened. Felt her stomach\u2014its pulse, its shriveled promise. \u201cDon\u2019t joke. You\u2019re not funny. You were never funny.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u201cWhoa.\u201d Pei imagined the moon exploding into thousands of meteors. \u201cYou haven\u2019t been much of a comedian either.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 And there, she felt anger stir in her throat like bile. She screamed: \u201cBecause I could get <\/span>arrested.\u201d <\/span><\/i>Thomas looked unsure. \u201cI <\/span>could. <\/span><\/i>And don\u2019t you dare say that you could too. They let men go.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u201cI\u2019m\u2026\u201d He wanted to say \u2018sorry,\u2019 but Pei didn\u2019t think he was. He settled on, \u201cI know.\u201d For a moment, they said nothing. Pei cocooned herself in a hug. She was nauseous. Too early for morning sickness\u2014perhaps it was rage.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u201cThere were cameras in the bathroom today. At the gas station.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 Thomas huffed. \u201cDid the owner have a fetish?\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 Oh, his indifference, small lightning in every muscle. <\/span>\u201cNo.\u201d <\/span><\/i>But she left it there. \u201cI\u2019m excited to see New York, honestly.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u201cExcited?\u201d His nose twitched. \u201cWe\u2019ll be there for half a day, and you\u2019ll feel like shit the whole time. No one\u2019s ever visited a big city and left a better person.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 The clouds parted overhead and the moon beamed in full.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u201cYou mentioned your ex-girlfriend earlier. Red.\u201d Thomas grunted, but Pei wanted to know him, for her own peace of mind. \u201cIs that really her name?\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u201cNo. Her last name\u2019s Redding.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 Unpleasantries huddled in his brow. She didn\u2019t pry.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u201cWe\u2019ll be in Philly by lunch. Sahar found a sandwich spot.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 Thomas turned over. He turned the radio back on.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u201cThank you,\u201d said Pei.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u201cDon\u2019t thank me,\u201d Thomas said. \u201cJust go to sleep.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 But Pei couldn\u2019t sleep, so she told Thomas about the last book she had read\u2014<\/span>The Stranger <\/span><\/i>by Albert Camus, about a man who went, pathetically and without protest, to his death sentence because he couldn\u2019t think of something he\u2019d rather do instead.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 Sahar sat opposite Pei and Thomas like the child of two dysfunctional divorcees. \u201cYou know, it\u2019s very 90s\u2014the president having an affair,\u201d Sahar said, laughing like she\u2019d forgotten how but had been given the parts\u2014the lips, the eyes, the teeth, and a vague recollection.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u201cNo,\u201d said Pei. \u201cIt\u2019s pass\u00e9. Give the 90s some credit.\u201d She stole a fry from Sahar\u2019s plate. \u201cBack then, people cared a little.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 Thomas scoffed. \u201cPeople care. There\u2019s just a lot to care about.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u201cWhat does that mean?\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u201cBombings, the Middle East, the Pope\u2014I don\u2019t know. The president had sex. It\u2019s not political.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u201cHe runs the goddamn country!\u201d Pei heard her voice expand and winced. She hadn\u2019t meant to feel so deeply.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 Thomas sipped his Coke, the only one of the three who could afford it. \u201cToo many women think their opinions make them better people.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u201cWhat, as opposed to men, who believe in nothing until they\u2019re forced?\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u201cI <\/span><\/i>believe in plenty. You act all moral during dinner table conversations. You wax moronic about things you can\u2019t change.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 The air crackled. \u201cNothing affects you\u2014nothing!\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 There was a small silence, and then Thomas excused himself to \u201cfreshen up.\u201d Sahar watched him leave; Pei watched Sahar thumb the bruise below her cheekbone and switched sides of the booth.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u201cSo, Thomas is the worst.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u201cWhat\u2019s wrong?\u201d Pei asked. \u201cYou seem tense.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u201cI should be asking you that. Him? Really?\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u201cI know. He\u2019s got some vendetta against his ex-girlfriend, too. He might just hate women.\u201d <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u201cThe way most men treat us, I think they\u2019d be happier if they just kissed each other.\u201d Pei let the joke die. \u201cSahar. What\u2019s wrong? Tell me.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 Sahar sat on the edge of her seat, like she couldn\u2019t bear the comfort of a headrest. \u201cMy job offer fell through. The one at Citizens Bank. I haven\u2019t had an interview since.\u201d <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u201cThat was a month ago.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u201cSix weeks, yeah. So, I\u2019ve…\u201d Sahar\u2019s smirk cried wolf. Pei felt the teeth of her stomach grinding themselves to nubs. \u201c I do sex stuff.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u201cSex stuff.\u201d Deadpan. \u201cWhat does that mean?\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 At their large public school in La Vergne, chock-full of burnouts and self-righteous geniuses who studied by skimming their notes once, Sahar was one of the few who <\/span>tried\u2014painstakingly. Salutatorian, Type A to a fault, social butterfly. She deserved to get out, go Ivy League, skip class reunions.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 Sahar had a second bruise on her upper arm. She looked ten years older.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u201cLike, I go to hotels, men\u2014mostly men\u2014meet me there, they\u2026\u201d Tears hung from her waterline. \u201cIt\u2019s not always bad. Sometimes, they just need someone to talk to. They\u2019re lonely.\u201d Her voice broke, and she cried.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 Pei hugged Sahar until their skins fused, and the thick brown hair she stroked as Sahar wept was tangible. She couldn\u2019t stop seeing it.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u201cIt\u2019s these student loans\u2014they\u2019re killing me. I thought…\u201d she sniffed. Pei grabbed a napkin from their pile and handed it to her. \u201cI thought going to UPenn would guarantee job offers, but everyone has a master\u2019s and a book deal and they\u2019ve cured ten mutations of syphilis.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 Pei snort-laughed through tears of her own. Sahar smiled too, and for a moment, they were sixteen again, alight with the prospect of better days.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u201cI\u2019m drowning. I didn\u2019t know what else to do. My landlord just increased rent, Dillon moved in with her boyfriend\u2026\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u201cAre you keeping safe?\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 Sahar glanced down at her purse. She nodded. \u201cI get <\/span>birth control\u2014\u201d <\/span><\/i>she mouthed the words \u201c\u2014in the city.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 Two shattered bodies walk into a diner; they leave pieces of themselves between floorboards. \u201cPei,\u201d Sahar sought her eyes. \u201cPlease, don\u2019t think less of me.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 Pei took Sahar\u2019s hands in hers. Squeezed.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u2014<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

An hour from the New York State toll booth, Thomas mentioned his ex-girlfriend again. A slip of the tongue this time. He had been careful not to say her first name.<\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 Windows down, cold air cutting down the endless Interstate, he knotted the chorus with the bow of his lip and said, \u201cBebe loved this song.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 And Pei didn\u2019t have to ask if Bebe and Red were the same person because there was that awful look, the ashy outline of atomic love. Thomas\u2019s plain features were made lovely by her mention.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 Two miles from the New York State toll booth, Pei asked, \u201cWill we still be friends after this?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 Thomas\u2019s gaze split. \u201cSure. If you want to be.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u201cDo <\/span>you <\/span><\/i>want to be?\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 The car jerked amid New Jersey nothing. \u201cI don\u2019t know how to be friends with you now.\u201d <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u201cBecause you got me pregnant?\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 And there was the thing left unsaid, the ink sac ballooning in Pei\u2019s chest, waiting to burst. Thomas said, \u201cNo. Because we\u2019ve had sex.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 The toll booth loomed ahead, so Pei fell silent and thought it was apt. The falling, that was. Something impossible to escape from, a clammy curl of Ursula\u2019s spell.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 She didn\u2019t have to hide in the trunk this time, but the attendant checked their IDs and asked to check any loaded weapons because those required a permit. Thomas said \u201cno\u201d for both of them, and then they were in New York.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 Thomas\u2019s knuckles whitened. He blasted the radio. And finally, Pei searched for her voice beneath her seat and for Bebe Redding\u2019s voice online.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 At first, nothing. Pei had one bar. Loading. She reached for the volume dial and felt\u2014rather than saw\u2014Thomas slap her hand away. She looked at him. Her mouth wouldn\u2019t close. \u201cLeave it,\u201d he said.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u201cWhy did you do that?\u201d Pei\u2019s voice walked a loose tightrope.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u201cDo what?\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 The car hit a pothole and jostled Pei in her seat. She saw civilization smoking up ahead. \u201cYou hit me,\u201d she said, but the music drowned her out.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 Her phone had two bars now. Her search loaded. The first link was an article from <\/span>The New Yorker.\u00a0<\/span><\/i><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u201cBrooklyn Playwright Bebe Redding Drops Assault Charges Against Thomas Vaughn.\u201d Another from <\/span>The Post: <\/span><\/i>\u201cBebe Redding and The Baby That Almost Killed Her.\u201d And then, \u201cRedding vs Vaughn Case Closed with Prejudice Among Abortion Lockdowns.\u201d <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u201cYou hit her, too.\u201d Thomas heard. \u201cYou hit her!\u201d Again and louder, again, but she wasn\u2019t right. Not completely.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 She saw red (Red, Red, Red).\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u201cYou got her pregnant.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 The car moved too quickly. Thomas hit another pothole, and Pei\u2019s phone fell to the car\u2019s carpet\u2014 <\/span>pop, <\/span><\/i>they swerved as a tire gave out\u2014 Pei heard the browns of dead land call out to her\u2014<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 Pei braced herself for something\u2014 Pei knew nothing about anybody\u2014 Pei was too troublesome to die\u2014<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u2014<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

They didn\u2019t say anything. They pulled into a service lane. A tow truck arrived. Pei introduced herself as Peyton because it sounded more American. Thomas blamed her for the accident, threatening to call the police if she did anything rash. She paid the mechanic out-of-pocket.<\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 They didn\u2019t say anything. They found a hotel room. It wasn\u2019t dark yet, but Thomas fell asleep on the bed and left her the floor. Pei didn\u2019t fear termites. She didn\u2019t care. Where was the money? This wasn\u2019t supposed to happen. She wasn\u2019t safe, she wasn\u2019t safe with <\/span>him<\/span><\/i>, with herself. Red was Bebe Redding, and Thomas had ruined her life.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u2014<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

That night, while Thomas slept, Pei went down to the lobby without her room key, and within the hour she was on a different floor, with a different man, feeling screwed up and begging to feel screwed. If you get pregnant, he told her, it\u2019s not my fucking problem. But he didn\u2019t have to worry, Pei said. Not about her.<\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 He has a condom because married people get rations\u2014like Adderall prescriptions, like a doctor\u2019s order, <\/span>take two after breakfast and one before bed.\u00a0<\/span><\/i><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 He didn\u2019t ask her name. Pei closed her eyes and felt nothing.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 When they were done, the man offered a white towel and asked her to leave. His wife would be back soon.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 Pei returned to her room and knocked until her fist was numb. It was her money, but she slept out in the hall anyway.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 Thomas placed the room key at her feet and left with the car. Pei had just enough money for a plane ticket home. At the airport, she called the doctor\u2019s office. Her phone rang twice. <\/span>Click. <\/span><\/i>\u201cHi, my name is Pei Marshall. You can give my appointment to someone else.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n\n\n\n<\/div>\n\n\n <\/div><\/div>\n\n\n\n\n \n \n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n

\n\n \n \n
\n\n \n

Charlotte Hass<\/strong> is an aspiring author studying Writing for Screen and Television at USC. An editor for Spotlight Magazine<\/em> and a writer for Televised Magazine<\/em>, Charlotte’s original work has been recognized by publications like Scholastic<\/em> and The Adroit Journal<\/em>. Charlotte feels happiest while writing sappy poetry in urban indie coffee shops.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<\/div>\n\n\n <\/div><\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"","protected":false},"author":288,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[56],"tags":[52],"class_list":["post-5237","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-fall-2024","tag-prose"],"acf":[],"yoast_head":"\nFraught Across State Lines<\/title>\n<meta name=\"robots\" content=\"index, follow, max-snippet:-1, max-image-preview:large, max-video-preview:-1\" \/>\n<link rel=\"canonical\" href=\"https:\/\/dornsife.usc.edu\/palaver\/fall-2024\/fraught-across-state-lines\/\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"en_US\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:type\" content=\"article\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:title\" content=\"Fraught Across State Lines - Palaver Arts Magazine\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:url\" content=\"https:\/\/dornsife.usc.edu\/palaver\/fall-2024\/fraught-across-state-lines\/\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:site_name\" content=\"Palaver Arts Magazine\" \/>\n<meta property=\"article:publisher\" content=\"https:\/\/www.facebook.com\/palaver.arts.magazine\" \/>\n<meta property=\"article:published_time\" content=\"2024-11-18T08:00:00+00:00\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:image\" content=\"https:\/\/dornsife.usc.edu\/palaver\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/175\/2023\/06\/palaver-logo.jpg\" \/>\n\t<meta property=\"og:image:width\" content=\"710\" \/>\n\t<meta property=\"og:image:height\" content=\"198\" \/>\n\t<meta property=\"og:image:type\" content=\"image\/jpeg\" \/>\n<meta name=\"author\" content=\"akcannon\" \/>\n<meta name=\"twitter:card\" content=\"summary_large_image\" \/>\n<script type=\"application\/ld+json\" class=\"yoast-schema-graph\">{\"@context\":\"https:\/\/schema.org\",\"@graph\":[{\"@type\":\"Article\",\"@id\":\"https:\/\/dornsife.usc.edu\/palaver\/fall-2024\/fraught-across-state-lines\/#article\",\"isPartOf\":{\"@id\":\"https:\/\/dornsife.usc.edu\/palaver\/fall-2024\/fraught-across-state-lines\/\"},\"author\":{\"name\":\"akcannon\",\"@id\":\"https:\/\/live-usc-dornsife.pantheonsite.io\/palaver\/#\/schema\/person\/8ac801b3c8176b6860207b43ecbe9e78\"},\"headline\":\"Fraught Across State Lines\",\"datePublished\":\"2024-11-18T08:00:00+00:00\",\"mainEntityOfPage\":{\"@id\":\"https:\/\/dornsife.usc.edu\/palaver\/fall-2024\/fraught-across-state-lines\/\"},\"wordCount\":4,\"publisher\":{\"@id\":\"https:\/\/live-usc-dornsife.pantheonsite.io\/palaver\/#organization\"},\"keywords\":[\"Prose\"],\"articleSection\":[\"Issue 16: Fall 2024\"],\"inLanguage\":\"en-US\"},{\"@type\":\"WebPage\",\"@id\":\"https:\/\/dornsife.usc.edu\/palaver\/fall-2024\/fraught-across-state-lines\/\",\"url\":\"https:\/\/dornsife.usc.edu\/palaver\/fall-2024\/fraught-across-state-lines\/\",\"name\":\"Fraught Across State Lines - 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