“That’s actually the most absurd thing of this all, you have neither the ORGANIZATIONAL skills nor the ambition to be an important member – or even member – of a drug ring. You being scrawny is really only part of the reason why, definitely not the whole reason.” Rosamonde said this confidently, without teasing, as if ve’d been asked this question as part of a job interview. As part of something serious. Of course, ve recognized the melancholic tone of Glenda’s ‘jokes’, the way she’d been keeping the textbook in front of her even though she wasn’t studying. Ros wasn’t in the habit of pitying anyone or doing them favors, but, ve’d known Glenda for over six years – it would’ve been cruel to let her be alone during a time like this.
Not that Ros wasn’t capable of being casually cruel, but, how could ve be in this situation? Glenda was rendered an orphan, her little sister subjected to the same fate, Ros knew what it was like to worry about younger siblings – being more PROTECTIVE of Capucine than ve liked to admit for fear that someone would use it against ver ( it was a true weakness, but not one ve was ashamed of ). Lily had asked ver to keep an eye on Glenda, stay with her when ve could, so she did.
Despite the fact that Glenda wasn’t ver best friend ( hard for anyone to be a close friend when everyone was kept at more than an arms length distance ) Ros also noticed Glenda’s absence in almost everything ve did. That was one of the reasons it was so easy for ve to agree to keep Glenda company, they spent many days together, even if not on purpose, being in the same year and house. Plus, they shared a mutual love of music. “They interviewed Capucine as well, not me though, yet. I expect to be called in but it’s quite SUSPICIOUS that the majority of people they’ve interviewed have been people of color, isn’t it? And by suspicious I mean racist.”
Glenda was dumbfounded at Rosamonde’s reply for a moment. Not in a BAD way, per se --- she just genuinely didn’t know what to say, and that didn’t happen to her often. “Wow, thanks,” she said eventually, sitting up a little. She wasn’t offended, far from it actually, she was just glad that someone wasn’t sugarcoating something, that they shared something so matter-of-factly. It felt like a breath of fresh air, and Glenda needed that. She had a gigantic need for things to seem normal, and for Rosamonde to answer her self-pitying words this way? It was funny, even.
“I mean, you’re absolutely right. I’d probably accidentally share a TON of important secrets after two days of being part of it. I’m too much of a blabbermouth.” Glenda found herself relaxing a little as a chuckle slipped past her lips. “Besides, I’d probably end up smoking up my own supply.” The situation was ridiculous, in all honesty. Her father dying was strange on its own, as was the fact that the world kept moving when she seemed to be standing still. And then there were the suspicions towards her, which were almost laughable. It wasn’t funny at all, but the ridiculousness of the situation, and how quick and sudden it had hit her, left her laughing either way. Hands covered her face, laughter slipping past her lips. “Fucking hell.”
She stopped laughing after a while, both because Ros was bringing up the racist ways the ministry was operating and because she was done laughing. The situation was ridiculous, yes, but also angering and disgusting and fucking hopeless. There was very little anger in Glenda’s body though --- the place where it usually sat was an empty hole, filled with fatigue and lost hope and emptiness. “Of fucking course,” she said, head shaking, words bitter. “Jesus. They’re not even tryin’ to hide it, not even going to ... pretend that they’re not bigoted fucks. Not that that’s any better, but they seem damn proud of it. Fuck.” Glenda put out her cigarette. “I’m so done with these assholes, Ros.”
