120.)

The house was three stories tall. The middle floor had a few more common rooms, but a lot of bedrooms. The up-upstairs was nearly empty and it looked like nothing but bedrooms. Every so often I would hear giggling from a nearby room as we passed by the doors.

Blossom’s bedroom was on the up-upstairs, at the end of the hall furthest to the east from the staircase. It was wide, but fairly shallow based on the layout of the house. She turned the doorknob and opened the door, leading the way into what was probably a very surprising bedroom to most people.

On one side, the bedroom seemed typical: a bed, a vanity, a closet, and all the bedroom things one might expect. On the other side, there was a huge U-shaped desk with shelves above it, decorated in engineering books, papers, a computer with two screens, and a large comfortable chair. Down the center, between the two sides, was a five-section folding partition wall, as though the two sides were not allowed to touch.

It was the Blossom Brixley Dichotomy: nerdy grey to the left, and bright happy bimbo cheerleader sorority girl on the right, like two separate and adjacent worlds.

"This is my room," Blossom said. "That's my study side, and this is my chill side, and that's my uniform I wore for the final game I was on cheer for~" She gestured to a literally framed cheerleader uniform hanging on the wall, and explained a little more. "It was a gift; don't look too much into it."

Neither side of her bedroom was what one might have called objectively tidy but the mess looked at least somewhat organized.

"Huh." Well, I shouldn't have been surprised. Her room was very much like her own brain: disparate. I stepped over the line into the "study side" and expected my clothes to change like in Academy K. They didn't.

"It's very you," I finally said, stepping back to the "chill side" and looking at pictures on the walls. This side was very decorated, almost annoyingly. It was the kind of decorated peoples' rooms were on TV.

"Thank you!" Blossom was beaming, a little from happiness, a lot from alcohol. "Honestly, when I first set this up it was because I figured boys wouldn't wanna see through the illusion and preferred thinking I was dumb, so I kept the separation. I even had a curtain I could draw across my study side. But as I spent more time in college, I realized I didn't need to compromise who I am to have a lot of free and open fun with people I find sexy. I think we probably learn more about social convention in the first year of college than we do in the twelve years of school. I came here with such high-school misconceptions."

"Yeah... I know what you mean." I sat down on the edge of her bed. On the "chill side" there wasn't anywhere else to sit. I ran my fingers along the comforter; this was where Blossom slept. This was probably where she texted me. It was weird, like stepping through the looking glass. I took another sip of my drink.

"Are you enjoying the party?"

Blossom sat down on her bed next to Amy and leaned her head back past her shoulders to stare up at her ceiling. She was happy and buzzing and the world hadn't ended yet, and that was good.

"I think so," I said, trying to be honest. "It's not as bad as I thought. But I guess when you don't know anyone, it's kind of boring. What do you usually do at parties like this?"

"Drinking games," Blossom replied.

"I would probably be very bad at drinking games," I admitted. I was on my third drink and I felt a slight fuzziness in my brain and fingers.

"There's a pingpong table in the basement and they're probably doing beer pong down there if you wanna play. Orrrr…"

She reached over to her bedside and picked up the vape pen, bubblegum flavored of course.

"We could get high together before we head back down?"

"Uh..." I looked at the pen with the obvious expression of "I have no idea what that is". "I've never smoked before," I admitted. "And maybe doing it here isn't a great idea?"

This was the part where Blossom said: "c'mon, all the cool kids are doing it!" and then I would buckle, because I'm a sub. But then the juice inside would be Pink Oil or something and I'd wet myself. Cue Academy Works scene.

But Blossom instead said: "That's fair." Then she took a big pull from her pen, put it back down, and blew out a stream of smoke.

"If you wanna try, let me know, alright? It's a vape, so it's just vapor, and it's THC not nicotine so no addiction problems. It's just nice to take the edge off, and for me it just makes me a giggly little shit."

She laid back on her bed, legs hanging off the edge, and exhaled happily.

"I was nervous about Becky," Blossom admitted. "But I think she likes you."

"Yeah... I admit she was probably my biggest worry."

And speak of the devil; Becky knocked on the door to Blossom's room, but it was already open. She peeked inside.

"You two busy?" she asked.

"Nope," Blossom said.

Becky invited herself in and took Blossom's pen off her nightstand. She took a hit and handed it to me. I shook my head, so she shrugged and put it back. Then she blew out the smoke.

"Now that it's a little quieter, we can chat," Becky said with a bright smile. She was obviously a little more drunk than earlier that night. "So how do you two know each other?"

"We had chem together last semester," Blossom answered.

"Lab partners? An age-old trope."

Well, we weren't exactly lab partners, but I didn't want to tell her that we ran into each other at an adult baby munch. So I let a different truth take the front seat.

"Hashtag tropes-aren't-bad~" Blossom grinned and got up off her bed, smoothing out her outfit so she could do a little twirl. "Doesn't it look good, Becks? Do you like it? I love it so much~"

"You look better than I had even imagined," Becky said happily.

"Also holy fuck, Becks, you look incredible too! Like uh…." She snapped her fingers, trying to get that memory to line up with her rapidly clouding brain. "Like Elsa, but green!"

"Does that make you Anna?" Becky teased. "Because she also likes to fuck when she first meets a guy~"

"She just knows how to optimize her time!"

Neither of them looked anything like Elsa or Anna, but I wasn't about to get in the way of their banter. Truthfully, they were both stunning. Becky was much smaller than Blossom - smaller than me - and had long dark hair. She knew how to dress and how to wear makeup. She was every bit Blossom's peer. I took another sip of my drink.

"So, are you two dating?" Becky asked bluntly, living up to her reputation. "Are your parents like, right-wingers or something like that? What's with the secrecy?"

Blossom and I were both quiet for a moment, but Blossom stepped in before I could. Good thing, too: I didn’t want to say anything wrong.

"It's because of me, Becks. Amy's not really in the same social circles as us, and I was worried that it might be weird." Which, to be fair, wasn't false. Becky narrowed her eyes and shook her head.

"That's kind of shitty of you, Bloss; you're better than that."

"We aren't dating anyway," I decided to add, since Blossom hadn't. And maybe it would lessen Becky's sudden irritation with her best friend.

"You aren't?" Becky didn't seem convinced.

"We aren't," I said again. "We're just friends. And since Blossom isn't into the whole 'circles mingling' thing, we just kind of do our own thing on the weekends." Becky knew about the beach house anyway, so she probably knew we spent the weekends together.

"Hmm..." Becky looked at Amanda, then at Blossom to confirm.

Blossom nodded her head in confirmation and Becky pursed her lips.

"So then tell me about yourself. What do you and Blossom get up to?"

"Uh..." It probably wasn't a good idea to tell her that we diaper each other. "TV, mostly? We just talk..."

"So you've got a lot in common, then?" Becky asked rhetorically. "What kind of stuff do you like? Hobbies, or whatever?"

"I... write?" I didn't know what else to say. I didn't have hobbies. I didn't consider that it would open me up to further questions.

"Oh, that's so cool!" Becky actually seemed interested. Blossom was right about her authenticity as a person. "What do you write? Poems? Stories?"

"Stories," I answered.

"Fiction? Romance?"

"Uh..." I looked at Blossom, who shrugged her shoulders. "Fiction, yeah. Not really romance... just... for fun..."

"Short stories? Novels? How many have you finished?"

"I... I dunno. Some of them are short? I dunno..." Could we talk about something other than Academy Works?

Blossom didn't quite know how to do a gunship rescue on this one. Becky could be an unstoppable force, and right now one sphere was trying to incur on another. A lot of her life could change if this went one way instead of the other. So she took another puff from her vape pen and said the only thing she could think of.

"She writes erotica, alright? And we go to the beach house because her Mom's always home and it gives her a good space to write in. And no, you can't read what she writes."

Welp. That certainly wasn't what I wanted Blossom to say. I could have lied or something, but I never was a very good liar. And thankfully, Blossom knew Becky a lot better than I did. She knew that Becky would keep prying until she got something.

"Oh. Huh."

Becky looked me up and down, which made me a little uncomfortable. I played with my fingers in my lap.

"What kind of erotica?" Becky asked, more curious than trying to impose. "Fanfic?"

"I wrote a Doctor Who fanfic once?" I admitted, following Blossom's lead. Sate her curiosity.

"Interesting." Becky looked like a kid staring at leftover birthday cake. She wanted more, but she was also full. Was it worth making herself sick?

"What about you?" I asked, deflecting the only way I knew how. Anyway, wasn't that how conversations were supposed to go? They ask you something, you ask them something.

"Me? Oh, hobbies? Hmm..." Becky took a moment to think about it. "Fashion, sewing... I do a lot here for the sorority. That eats up most of my time. I'm also damn good at bowling."

"She is," Blossom admitted, remembering one evening in particular. "Don't bet her on it."

"I bake sometimes?" I offered, trying to pull away from the mistake of admitting I was a writer.

"I can't bake for anything," Becky sighed. "I make a great alfredo sauce though. Basically anything with cheese, even though I'm a little lactose intolerant. Sometimes suffering is worth it."

That only further proved my cake metaphor.

"We need to get together one night here at the sorority and Becks can make her Alfredo Sauce and Amy can make dessert. I can… go buy the pasta noodles from the store, maybe even boil them?"

Blossom grinned, happy not just with herself, but because her gambit against Becky's curiosity had paid off. Sometimes you had to let the bear eat your picnic basket and hope that it's enough, right? That was a common saying, wasn't it? It ought to be.

"Becky is also the worlds best gift giver, as evidenced by me~" Blossom motioned to herself, and then remembered the string bracelet on her wrist, which she was quick to hold up, too. "Although! Amy did make me this bracelet and I fucking love it, so maybe there's competition for Best Gift Giver in the future?"

Becky narrowed her eyes and looked right at Amy, before saying in the scariest possible tone:

"I will destroy you."

And then breaking out in a smile.

"Kidding! Kidding! That's a SUPER cute bracelet though. You made that?"

"I really don't think a string bracelet is much competition," I admitted, a little half-heartedly. "You'll reign for years to come, I'm sure."

"I dunno," Blossom shrugged. "I like it."

"That's what matters," Becky said brightly and winked at me. I wasn't sure what that meant, but it gave me a sense of comfort. Like, somehow, we were sharing a secret. I just didn't know what the secret was.

The conversation went on for a while longer, and luckily it never doubled back to my writing. I learned a bit more about Becky, and the more I learned the more impressed I was with her. She did a lot of stuff for the school, and she volunteered at a runaway shelter in the city once a month. She didn't have a job; her parents covered her schooling and gave her a bit of an allowance. I thought allowances would make for a good Little story theme. I told her that I worked transcribing podcasts.

Then, mid-sentence, Becky said: "Shit. I gotta go! Don't take too long!"

And then she was gone. Blossom pointed up at the clock on the wall. Fifteen minutes until midnight. Fifteen minutes until 2023.

"She's cool... really cool." Not high school cool, not preppy or bitchy. She just didn't seem to care much about what others thought of her. It looked so liberating...

"I figured you two would like each other if you could get over your introversion and she could get over her suspicion of being replaced~" Blossom grinned and helped Amy to her feet.

"Let's go downstairs and get some drinks and get a good seat. Everyone packs into the living room for the ball drop, and if we hurry now we might be able to stake out a seat and not have to stand!"

I followed Blossom downstairs. The music was turned way down, but the commotion continued. Someone shouted out a ten minute warning and Blossom handed me another mixer. This one was pink. Pink soda. I could take a sip at midnight and I'd suddenly wet myself. Blossom would say "2023 is going to be a big year for you. Our sorority needs a new Little."

But the flavor was Strawberry Kiwi, not Inevitable Baby.

Blossom was wrong about finding a seat. The TV was on in the living room, live from New York. If we didn't come to the party, we could have driven down there in time. Probably. But on the screen, Times Square was packed. I remembered in 2021, when the place was basically empty. 2022 wasn't much better.

Despite not being able to find a place to sit, Blossom did manage to navigate to a place on the left side of the room where she could stand close to Amy and they could both see the TV. Becky wasn't in here yet, but that just meant she had to be doing something in the kitchen or something, or planning something, or helping someone. That girl had infinite energy sometimes, or at least conditionally infinite. Blossom sipped her bourbon and swayed happily, putting one arm around Amy's lower back in a kind of half cuddle.

"2023 might be another bad year for the world and the country, but I get to have you in my life and that makes it a pretty good year regardless of what happens, I think~"

"That's very sappy," I said, but maybe I said it too quietly for Blossom to hear. I looked up at her for a moment, at the excitement in her eyes, and then down at my drink. I was picking at the little label, because I didn't know what else to do with my hands.

Then Becky got up on the arm of the sofa and made a little speech.

"Thanks everyone for spending your first moments of 2023 with my sisters and me! Get a drink if you don't have one, 'cause we're kicking off this year right. No compromises; this is gonna be the best year yet! And that all starts in two minutes!"

Everyone cheered. I didn't cheer, but I liked the speech. Make this next year the best one yet. And after that? Do it again. Maybe that's the best we've got as a society: momentum, and a promise.

Becky appeared at my side a few seconds later, then slid around to be next to Blossom. I looked at her, but she was focused on the TV. She looked nervous.

Blossom stood at the intersection of two spheres. To her left was Becky - the sphere of socialite sorority high society. To her right was Amy - the sphere of littleness, of inner truth, of secrets that could destroy her. And Blossom Brixley thought she should have been more anxious about all of that than she actually was, and that was nice. No no, what she was nervous about was something entirely different. Something she wished she'd discussed first, with Becky, with Amy. But as the countdown on the screen hit 30, she realized she would just have to wing it.

10………

9……..

8…….

7……

6…..

Everybody was counting down in unison, like a chorus.

5….

4…

3..

2.

1

As the ball dropped, Blossom turned her head to one side. Without thought to ceremony or doubt, she leaned in close to Amy and spoke only loud enough for Amy to hear her:

"Put your hand up if you want me not to, but… I am going to kiss you now."