[Week 2.2ish]

The poster at the entrance of the cafeteria warned that there’d been an explosion on campus, in one of the glades. A bunch of trees had been flattened, and a small fire had burned down some more. Someone had been stabbed nearby as well. Police were trying to figure out if the actions were committed by the same perpetrator.

Claire shook her head. Campus was less safe every day.

It’d been less than a week and a half since she got her bid letter, but it felt like an eternity. She’d been ready for hazing–social status needed to be earned–but this was something else. Still, she refused to let it beat her down.

And ground zero of her resistance was the cafeteria’s dessert section. She took a confident stroll, past mediocre rice crispy treats, stale apple pies, and over to the brownies. They were better than they had any right to be, and they’d only gotten better since Miriam had banned them.

She grabbed one, then got herself her daily hot chocolate and strutted back to the group’s lunch table. Riga had tried to say something last week, but Claire had given her a well deserved death glare. Since then she’d largely been left alone. Even Arie hadn’t talked about it with her, though the smug look she got from them every time she sat down with her dessert said enough: Arie found the defiance amusing.

That felt somehow humiliating in its own way. Somehow from them Claire didn’t mind it as much.

She sat down in the open seat next to Arie, who glanced at her tray, eyed the desert, and gave her exactly the amused look Claire had expected.

It was comforting and confusing.

Claire took a sip of her glorious hot chocolate. “How’s your week?”

“We got our second problem set for Econ 101,” Arie said over their salad, “it’s long. A lot of people are freaked out about it.”

“Are you?” Claire asked.

The small smile she got back radiated Arie’s brand of confident near-arrogance. “We had worse things at my high school.”

Claire felt the warm glow of her own smile. Arie’s easy confidence never failed to to make her feel fuzzy.

The rest of the group began to assemble around the table. Luna and Becca arrived first. Then Diana sat down and Claire felt herself freeze up a little. She liked Persephone, Luna, and Becca just fine. Persephone was cool, Luna really needed to work on her insecurity, and Becca was a bit timid, but they were all nice people and getting to know them for the last week had been fun. But her feelings towards the future minders were decidedly more cautious. They were threats, even when they’d largely left her alone.

Diana in particular felt a dangerous kind of perceptive.

Still, she did her best to be polite, especially since the group as a whole was getting along really nicely.

“May we sit, miss?” Luna’s question sparked a moment of annoyance in Claire. As much as she liked the girl personally Luna’s way of just rolling over was kind of aggravating. She was being such a doormat.

She’d improved her makeup too–begrudgingly Claire had to admit that she seemed to be blooming under the way they were treated.

“You may, Luna,” Diana responded. She pulled out a chair for her, then gave her a quick brush of the shoulder. Claire felt a pang of jealousy at how easy that interaction had been, how confident and safe Luna seemed. She forced the emotion back into its box.

She turned back to Arie instead. “There were a lot of people freaking out in my psych class as well. Lots of people not ready for having college length assignments.”

Arie nodded. “I’m actually kind of glad for our study hour? It’s nice to hang out and work through problems.”

Claire just nodded and went back to her food. She found the study hours generally tense–someone might demand something of her at any time–though Aria’s presence generally made the experience bearable.

Persephone interrupted their conversation. “Have any of you seen the big sisters this morning? They seem absolutely exhausted.”

“It’s been that way for the past few days has it not?” Riga asked.

“It’s been way worse since the explosion,” Becca said. “Do you think the frats and sororities were affected?”

Everyone paused for a moment to reflect on that. It’s not like the rest of their time at Delta Sigma hadn’t been weird.

Luna finally spoke up. “That doesn’t reallymake sense, it happened pretty far from frat row.”

“Claire, weren’t you and Diana over there for class?” Persephone asked.

Claire hadn’t thought about that before. She felt a shudder go through her. “Actually yeah, and Luna was doing office hours in the same building. Really a close call.”

“Wow, scary,” Becca murmured.

There was a bit of silence after that, as everyone ate lunch and digested things heavier than their food.

Eventually Luna made a very visible effort to find something to say. After a opening and closing her mouth a few times, she turned to Riga. “What have you all been learning in your etiquette classes?”

“Mmmm, the etiquette classes have been mostly alright,” Riga answered, “posture, presence, those categories of thing. We actually spend a good amount of the time learning about you. What you are supposed to know. Allyson demonstrates and then we must catch what she’s doing wrong.”

“Yes, we actually spend a lot of time talking about you all.” Arie confirmed with a grin. It dripped with promise. “We have this lil group session as well, and it’s basically all about talking about your brains, how to read you, how to understand what you’re doing and why, all those lovely little things.”

Claire felt that old frustration boiling up inside her, that relentless drive to push and push back and overcome and–Arie’s hand was on her arm. Arie was safe. Claire relaxed a little.

Persephone seemed almost as indignant, though not nearly as on edge. There was something cute about the way she turned up her nose and huffed. “Oh yeah, what did you learn about me?”

Arie smile turned a little cruel as she answered. “You’re insecure about fitting in places, and it makes you seek attention. You’ve been different all of your life and—”

“–and that’s why,” Diana cut her off, “you need to be shown acceptance.” She gave Arie a glare. Arie just shrugged and smiled.

Becca looked a little uncomfortable for a moment, but seemed to settle when Diana started stroking her shoulder. There was another long moment of awkwardness before Luna broke the silence again.

She spoke to Riga, “would you like me to get you ice cream, miss?”

Riga nodded. The future servant looked around the table. “Anyone else?” But Arie and Diana both declined.

Diana watched her go. “Seriously, we’re supposed to learn how to understand you, and to grow into our responsibility ‘minding’ you, not that I’m exactly sure what that means outside of having you grab ice cream.”

It didn’t take long for Luna to get back.

“Here you go, miss.”

“Thank you Luna,” Riga said, ”come sit down.”

The servant seemed to preen a little as she sat down, and conversation resumed.

Amidst the din something nagging at Claire’s brain finally connected. “Hey, has anyone else noticed they haven’t made us pay dues?

Riga seemed interested in that line of thought. “Have you tried to figure out why or how?”

Before anyone could really engage with the question, Diana’s watch beeped. They needed to head out. Most of the white cuffs would head to lectures, but Persephone, Claire, Becca, and Luna happened to all be available until later in the afternoon, which meant that Tuesday had been dubbed “early ballet.”

They walked back across campus and naturally ended up in two little groups. Persephone gently directed Claire away from the rest.

When she spoke her voice was hesitant. “Do you think Arie hates me?”

All the stress and difficulty suddenly disappeared, and Claire felt warmth and care bloom in her chest. “Noooooo.” She gave Perse a hug, whispered the rest in her ear. “Arie’s just a little prickly sometimes.”

“Are you sure?” The skater girl suddenly seemed so small.

“Yes, under the spikes bits she cares.” She released the hug and patted her on the back. “You should just ask her. She likes direct conversations.”

They rejoined the rest of the group. Luna and Becca had been whispering about something, probably about stuffed animals or something.

When they quieted down Persephone spoke up. “What do you think we’ll learn today?”

“Not sure,” Luna said, “I think we’re pretty good at kneeling at this point?”

Becca nodded and left it at that.

Claire shook her head in renewed frustration. “I’m getting kind of tired of drilling from ready-kneel to presenting-kneel back to ready kneel over and over again. We look fine. Persephone you come at this like a god damn dancer, and Becca you’d look fine no matter what you did.”

“I hope we learn how to walk,” Persephone said, “They always look so graceful even when they’re just walking places.”

Claire looked left, and realized that Luna looked sad all of a sudden. Claire spun for a moment trying to figure out what had happened. Had it been something she said? The way they were treated angered her, but Luna had a kind of earnestness about her that she didn’t want to hurt.

Persephone noticed too. “Luna, what’s going through your head?” She leaned forward to better inspect Luna’s face.

Luna just looked away. “It’s dumb.”

“It’s the trans thing,” Becca whispered.

Claire and Persephone both gave her a dumbfounded look, but Claire pieced it together faster.

“It’s because I mentioned the other two, isn’t it?” she asked.

Luna looked embarrassed, but nodded.

“You know, I was thinking at lunch how amazed I am that you can dive into this so easily,” Claire said, “and you look amazing when we do Ballet as well.”

“Thanks...” Luna whispered.

Persephone leaned against her in support, which caused Luna to tense up again, but then things settled down until they got back to the house on Northside.

——

Today Claire floated through ballet class like she was in a trance. Didn’t let it touch her, didn’t let it affect her insides. Didn’t let the tension of everything get to her. She was moving from position to position, but she could tell Miriam was gradually getting more frustrated with her.

Eventually the taps became slashes, and Claire couldn’t ignore the pain anymore. It pulled her back to the present, and with that, to the frustration at being stuck in this situation.

She opened her mouth to speak, but Miriam spoke first. “I want you here, with us, or you’re never going to learn to do it smoothly.”

“I–“ Claire began.

“Look at yourself in the mirror.” Miriam pointed to the front of the room, at their mirror image. “Now go from standing to a kneel.”

Claire did the requested motion.

“See how boring that is?” Miriam asked. “That’s because your heart isn’t in it.”

Claire stared at the mirror, then at Miriam. It… yes she could see it too. Fuck.

She’d been stupid. She thought she found a way she could do this, could keep enough of herself while still doing what she needed to do. And now she was fucking it up.

“Want to try again?” the minder asked.

Clare nodded. She did want to be good at this. And Miriam was being unexpectedly nice about this. She took a deep breath, let the tension flow out of her, returned to her body. Let herself open up.

She shivered, the tension was back. Miriam brushed her neck, and she leaned into it gratefully. She was pretty sure she’d whimpered.

Nothing to do but try again. Claire rose to standing, then tried to kneel. It looked maybe a little better?

Miriam gave her a pat on the head. “Good girl for trying, but you’re heart’s not in it right now. We’ll talk about it more later.”

Miriam let off a little then, though Claire also found herself trying to be more present, trying to push a little more, trying to at least not embarrass herself and get lectured again.

It was a little depressing.

That also made the rest of the hour pass quickly, and she followed Miriam back to her office.

The last time they’d done this, Miriam and Claire had sat across from each other as they went over Claire’s schedule for the week. This time, Miriam stopped her at the door. She pointed at the couch. “I want you to kneel there.”

Claire immediately clammed up. This wasn’t the feelingless movement practice of ballet, where she could just go along. This was something real. Whatever made this so easy for everyone else, she still didn’t have it, she needed to be colder, she needed to–

She remembered that brush against her neck, and found the headspace from ballet class again. She walked over to the designated spot as gracefully as she could, then slid into a ready kneel facing sideways to the couch. Miriam walked over after her and relaxed on the couch an arm’s length away. Her body was in the right place, doing the right things, and she was watching it.

“Alright,” Miriam continued, “that was actually pretty good. Now I want you to try to go deeper into yourself, and to be present in your body. Tell me what you feel.”

Claire tried to feel her body. It was just her body, right? It just existed. There wasn’t really anything there. Except that she was tense.

“You notice it, right?” Miriam was solemn above her. “The tension? You’re scared.”

Claire just nodded, of course she was tense. She was vulnerable. Not-safe. Miriam wanted her to give up power over herself.

“I’m sure you think this is because you’re kneeling.” Miriam crossed her legs, still a little distance away. “But you’ve actually been like this since I met you. You were like this at the rush week event too.”

Claire looked up in surprise. “Why– Why? And why take me then?”

“Because we think we know what’s underneath.”

Claire wasn’t sure how to respond to that, so she tried being in her body some more.

Miriam leaned forward. “Claire. Do you believe I care about you?”

Claire stammered a moment at that. It was weird to consider, but– “yes.”

“Do you believe that I know what I’m doing?”

Claire almost wilted under Miriam’s gaze. The pledgemaster’s energy was usually all over the place. Here, now? It was focused, centered, and it made Claire realize just how much force, how much will, hid behind the other big sister’s chaotic, often mercurial mask.

But she needed to answer. “Y-yes…

“…miss.”

Claire wasn’t sure why the honorific slipped out, but it earned her a smile. From Miriam. But not a reprieve from the questions.

“Do you trust me?”

Claire nodded quickly. “Yes miss.”

Miriam shook her head, disappointed. “No you don’t. Not really. Tell me why don’t you trust me?”

Claire felt the adrenaline course through her. “I— I don’t know.”

“Dig. Keep trying. This is important.” Miriam’s gaze pinnet her to the ground. It was static, unmoving, and Claire couldn’t remember the last time the minder had blinked. “Listen to your lizard brain, this isn’t something you can intellect your way through.”

“You…” Claire clenched her eyes shut, tried to connect with herself. “You want to control me. You hurt me. You want to have power over me.”

Miriam took the answer with perfect equanimity. As if Claire had just informed her of the weather. But she leaned back ever so slightly, and the gaze let up a little. “And yet you’re jealous when you see Luna let go so easily, when you see Becca curl into Diana’s control. When Persephone gets put in her place, and accepts it.”

Claire wanted to deny that, but couldn’t. She looked away.

“Do you think Persephone and Becca are safe?”

“I’m not sure… maybe? Miss.” Her eyes were drawn to Miriam again, to the iron certainty found there.

The minder’s face became so gentle, so infinitely caring as she spoke, “when you’re jealous of them, is it because they’re not safe?”

Claire gave her the shakiest of smiles. “No miss,” she whispered. Something inside of her felt suddenly vulnerable.

Miriam spoke slowly, “it’s because they can open up and be vulnerable, without some important part of them screaming.”

Claire just nodded, eyes a little blurry.

“And that contradiction, between desire and danger, between jealousy and judgement, is why you’re so all over the place.” Miriam placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. “I want you to try and open yourself up for me. Just a little bit. Just for five minutes, or maybe even the rest of this session. Let yourself relax here. Trust that I’m going to be gentle, and take care of you.” The hand squeezed a little, just the into of a shoulder message.

Claire tried. She honestly did, she tried to pull herself here, to find that place inside herself that Jacqueline seemed to have found, and open up. Tried to find it through the wobbling, the blurry eyes, the bubbling uncertainty.

“Claire, you’re shaking,” Miriam whispered.

Claire looked down at her hands. Turned them back and forth, almost puzzled by what she was seeing. They couldn’t have held a glass of water, as they were now. “‘It’s not safe,” she whispered again.

Miriam’s hand touched her head, as if about to pet it, before quickly pulling away. Her words were quiet and sympathetic. “I know, I know…”

Miriam’s tone picked up a bit more force. “Clair. You believe I care about you.”

She felt more certainty than the first time she answered. “Yes. Miss.”

“You believe I know what I’m doing.”

She actually managed to crack a smile at that. “Scarily so, miss. “

“Then can you trust me to help you? To move a bit closer and touch you a bit more?”

Claire just nodded, but Miriam wouldn’t take that. “I want to hear you properly.”

She found her voice. “Yes miss.”

Claire watched as Miriam slowly got up and sat back down right above Claire. Then she took a single leg, moved it behind Claire’s shoulders and used it to both support Claire’s back and hold Claire’s body sideways against the couch. The other leg went across Claire’s front, lying loosely over her lap. Hands began playing with her hair.

Claire felt frozen in the sudden closeness. She felt frayed. The emotional weight of Miriam’s questions, of kneeling, of letting herself be touched. But it was also… nice. The hands in her hair were soothing in some primal way. Miriam was right, she was always tense. And while some part of her screamed about vulnerability, some other part of her drank in the closeness, the feelings of safety.

And as the screaming grew too much, too exhausting, she just… gave in. She realized she was weeping, and that same sudden neediness she’d felt during her talk with Jacqueline and Kacie last week came back.

She pushed into the legs, into the hands, into the safety of restriction. She needed more. Miriam suddenly spoke up above her–“You may break your position, and do as you like with your hands.”–and so Claire slumped over and clung to Miriam’s calf like it was her only anchor to the world.

“There we go,” Miriam whispered, “there we go.”

She was lost about how Miriam did it, but somehow Claire existed in a world surrounded entirely by her minder. Her limbs, her voice, her control.

And somehow she felt safe.

They stayed there for the rest of the hour, and somehow the jumpiness, the anxiety, the need to do something. It never came. She eventually was given permission to shift off her knees, but even then they stayed there. Just Miriam, just safety, just touch, and what Claire was beginning to understand as the peace of submission.