Free The Secret Side of Empty by Maria E. Andreu Page B

chairs. Siobhan goes all “happy girlfriend” mode on us. “There’s Josh,” she whispers, like she’s just told us the juiciest secret ever.
    I can only describe Josh as a blond bear, with a big, almost squarish chest and beady blue eyes. It seems he is covered with blond fur. I’ve never seen a blond furry person. I associate furry with dark hair.
    Blond Bear walks over and intertwines his fingers with Siobhan’s effortlessly, almost like scratching his forearm. A couple of his friends follow him. They’re all in white button-down shirts.
    “Josh, this is my cousin Chelsea and her friend M.T.”
    “Chelsea.” Josh nods in her direction. Then he looks at me. “Empty?”
    The friends make that weird man-giggle that guys do. I know Josh is not being particularly nice, but I kind of like “Empty.” I’ve never thought of that before, surprisingly. For all my stellar grades, I actually stink at word games and figuring out what initials stand for. I seriously think it’s, like, the one “English-as-a-second-language” quirk I’ve got. I’m a little disappointed in Quinn “Is-her-name-Mousy-Rat” Ford and her crew for not coming up with this one.
    Empty. It could mean a lot of things. Devoid. Unburdened. Without baggage.
    “Yeah, it’s a big, existential statement, my name,” I say.
    Chelsea says, “M. Period. T. Period.”
    “Oh, so you’re, like, too T. S. Eliot to have a whole name?” says one of the friends.
    “Maybe you just haven’t scored high enough to hear it yet,” I say, deadpan.
    The friends laugh nervously, and one of them backhandedly smacks Josh in the chest and says, “Let’s go, it’s time to get started.”
    Siobhan grabs Chelsea and drags her to the front row. I follow reluctantly, only because I know I won’t be able to find my way back to Siobhan’s dorm on my own.
    In a little bit, the white-shirted bunch gets up on the wooden stage. It’s only about as tall as a milk crate. It creaks.
    They begin. Some of them start saying, “A-wee-mah-weh, a-wee-mah-weh, a-wee-mah-weh, a-wee-mah-weh.” Some other guy starts wailing, “Weee.” All of a sudden, Josh belts out with something about a lion and a jungle.
    I sideways glance at Siobhan. She’s got a rock-star-is-in-the-house glow in her eyes.
    There’s an awkward retro weirdness to the whole thing. If I didn’t want to leave so much, maybe I’d think it kind of sounds cool. It’s amazing how they all sing different parts but sound like one whole song, almost like an orchestra of voices. But what kind of guy wants to sit around with a bunch of other guys and sing without instruments? If you can sing, shouldn’t you do some kind of chick-magnet rock-band thing? Instead of this barbershop quartet, super-unhip gig? I glance around as much as I can without moving my neck to see if anyone is laughing at them, but everyone seems to be into it.
    Strange land, this college.
    I will always be a stranger everywhere. With my parents, I am too American. With Americans, I am a spectator with my nose pressed against their windowpanes, watching their weird rituals and rites of passage, never quite understanding them completely. A little chunk of me will always be a stranger everywhere, different chunks of stranger in different situations.
    They do a pretty cool “Bohemian Rhapsody” and a downright sweet “California Dreamin’.” Nothing from this century. Finally they step off the stage and there is some polite clapping. I am surprised at the little flame of “Come back” that jumps up in my heart before I remind myself how stupid the whole thing is.
     
     

CHAPTER TEN
    J osh and a couple of his a cappella friends come back with us to Siobhan’s dorm room to pass time before the frat party. It turns out it’s some kind of academic frat Josh belongs to, so whatever visions of keggers Chelsea had are now being replaced by the reality of these somewhat geeky guys with the Blond Bear for a leader standing around looking