Free Invitation to a Bonfire by Adrienne Celt Page A

had been provided for me, I imagined hundreds of girls leaning out the windows waving handkerchiefs, streaming through the doors in white dresses, their hair in very American ponytails, all of their limbs long and healthy and tanned. They would throw their arms out, so many girls crowding around me at once that we’d move and shift like a flock on the wing, wavering back and forth in ferocious tandem. We’d lift up, our toes just barely scraping the ground. Instead, a single matron came out with a clipboard and showed me to my room, where I found Margaret, whose previous roommate had disappeared when her appendix burst without warning. Even after Cindy’s threats I occasionally held Margaret’s clothes up to my body, imagining what they’d look like on. She came back from the bathroom once rather quicker than I’d anticipated and found me trying on her lipstick—just a dab, as I wasn’t brave enough to wear much color. “No,”she told me. That was all she had to say. I gave in like a puppy, rolling over to expose the soft pink of my belly, hoping she might pick me up in her mouth and carry me with her wherever she went. Which is what I really wanted. Not the whole school in tennis whites, but Margaret at least.
    What I got was Margaret. And I was glad not to lose her, not to have lost her, to keep her at least for a while, to have kept.

 
    Donne Girls Spring Into a New Role
    From the Gosling Herald , April 15, 1927
    MAPLE HILL, NJ. Every year the Donne School student body is faced with a problem: how do you throw a good spring formal with no gentleman dance partners? This year, thrifty girls got into the spirit of making-do and decided to use the number-one resource they had on hand: other girls.
    A week before the Mix-n-Match Fling, every student entering the caf was asked to throw her name into a hat, and once a quorum was achieved, half the names were drawn to play the role of women, and half were drawn to play the role of men. The lists, posted outside the dorms after dinner that night, caused a great deal more excitement than your usual spring dance theme.
    Some girls (we aren’t allowed to call them sad sacks in print, but readers may draw their own conclusions) were disappointed to find themselves assigned to the male gender, though most (including this reporter) accepted the responsibility with the enthusiasm it required. The girls assigned as “girls” were also looking forward to the event. “I feel like I’m about to meet my new beau!” a sophomore from Rhode Island was heard to say, followed by a cascade of appreciative laughter.
    The night of the dance, Donne girls (and boys) were surprised to find the gentlemen better outfitted than the ladies—and slightly outnumberingthem. It turned out that finding a decent “boy’s” outfit was such good sport that even some of the assigned “girls” got in on the fun. Never let it be said that our ladies don’t relish a challenge! When asked about the meticulous detailing on his cravat, one Donne “boy” (also known as Sharon Lisby) looked affronted and replied quite witheringly, “Of course I wore my very best. What else would be good enough for these young beauties?” Well put.
    In the days since this successful party, it’s safe to say that all the Donne girls are looking at their classmates with renewed admiration. Margaret Rathburn of New Canaan, Connecticut, described the suit she’d acquired as “one of [her] new favorite ensembles” and the dress she chose for her roommate, Zoe Andropov, as “entirely demure,” adding, “She sat there like a little angel and let me do her face. Turns out she has lovely eyes, once she lets someone line them!” Miss Andropov, tucked in the corner of the room as this reporter conducted her interview, was seen to blush. She did, indeed, look becoming with pink cheeks.
    The Herald is firm in our