CHAPTER TWENTY | DESIREE
“Newspeak is the name of a language that is spoken in the dystopian novel titled ‘Nineteen Eighty-Four’ by George Orwell. The book is called ‘Nineteen Eighty-Four’ because that is the year when it takes place. However, it was actually written by George Orwell in 1949. So it was a book about the future. In the future, George Orwell imagined that people would adapt a new language. The name of that language is Newspeak…’
I slammed my head against the coffee table, drumming my forehead repeatedly in an attempt to eviscerate the sheer terribleness of what I had just read from my memory.
In lieu of another pop quiz, I had tasked the students in my first period AP English class with writing a 500-word short essay explaining the significance of Newspeak in George Orwell’s ‘Nineteen Eighty-Four.’
I figured this would be an easy A for any student that had bothered to pick up the book or flip through the first few chapters. Unfortunately, it was starting to seem like I had overestimated my class once again.
If the first handful of essays were any indication, it seemed like my students hadn’t even bothered to skim Cliff Notes. I capped my red grading pen with a heavy sigh and stood up from the table. If I was going to make it through the rest of these abysmal essays, I would need wine. Lots of wine.
Luckily I had picked up a fresh bottle at the grocery store, and when I popped open the fridge I was relieved to see that Kas hadn’t gotten her grubby little hands on it yet.
I hugged the bottle against my stomach and pulled open the utensil drawer to find a bottle opener.
I was still rummaging through the drawer when I heard the apartment door open.
My eyes shot up and I watched my roommate shuffle in. Her eyes were hidden behind a pair of oversized black sunglasses, and her frame was obscured in a ginormous sweatshirt that fit her frail frame like a potato sack. She looked terrible… which wasn’t exactly surprising, considering the fact that she wasn’t usually conscious during daylight hours.
“Kas!” my eyebrows raised up in surprise. “It’s 5 p.m.… what are you doing out of the tomb at this hour?”
“I had to get my eyelash extensions redone,” she sighed, snapping a piece of bubble gum between her teeth. Then she noticed the bottle of wine and added, “Oooh, pinot greej! Yes please!”
I didn’t offer, but… ok.
I sighed as I placed the bottle on the kitchen counter, then popped open a cabinet and grabbed a pair of wine glasses.
“I’m actually, like, super glad you’re here,” Kas said, thunking her baby pink BCBG flip flops against the floor as she stomped into the kitchen. “There’s something I want to talk to you about.”
“Ok,” I said slowly. I kept my eyes on her as I reached for the wine bottle, then wedged the corkscrew through the foil until I stabbed cork. I couldn’t get a read on Kas’ face; between the dark sunglasses and the botox-frozen expression, she was completely devoid of emotion.
I twisted the corkscrew into the neck of the bottle, then I pried out the cork with a soft pop. I had barely finished pouring wine into the first glass before Kas reached across the counter, grabbed it by the stem, and yanked it towards her mouth.
With one giant glug, she polished off the entire glass. My eyes shot wide open, and I blinked at her in horror.
“Umm… is everything ok, Kas?”
“More,” she gasped, shoving the wine glass in front of me. “I need more.”
I frowned. I hadn’t even filled up my own glass, and Kas was already asking for round two?
Whatever…
I poured a second serving of wine into her glass, then filled my own.
“Cheers,” I remarked under my breath as I took a sip.
“Mmm,” Kas murmured as she swallowed half of her second glass of wine. She thrust the glass down dramatically, then adjusted her black sunglasses.
“I needed that,” she said. “Thank you, Des.”
“Umm… sure. Anytime?”
“I needed that,” she said again, “Because what I’m about to say is very difficult for me, but it needs to be said.”
She clutched a manicured hand to her chest dramatically and made a heavy, pained sigh.
“Kas… is everything ok?”
“Yes,” she nodded. “I’m fine, I’m fine. But…” she shook her head and raised the wine glass, dumping the entire contents down her throat with one glug.
I raised the bottle, silently offering a refill, but Kas shook her head.
“No,” she said. “I just need to say it. I need to rip off the band-aid. That’s what my shrink always tells me. He says, ‘Kas, just find your voice… just be the brave, courageous woman I know you can be!’”
Yeah, I’m sure that’s exactly what your shrink says… I rolled my eyes in disbelief. Luckily, Kas didn’t seem to notice.
She took another deep breath, then she slid off her sunglasses.
“Desiree, there isn’t an easy way to say this…” she said. “So, I’m just going to say it.”
“Ok.”
“You need to move out.’
“That’s-- wait, what?!”
“Oh God, I knew this was going to be hard for me to do,” Kas turned away and immediately began fanning her face with her hands. “I can’t cry! I just paid $280 to get these eyelashes, and if I cry, they’ll all fall out!”
“Kas, I don’t understand,” I stammered, slamming my wine glass down on the counter.
“Please don’t make this harder on me than it already is,” Kas said, holding up her hand to stop me.
“Well maybe it would be less hard, if I actually understood what was going on?”
“I already told you,” she groaned. “I need you to move out. Like, ASAP.”
“But… we still have six months left on our lease!”
“My lease,” she snapped. “My name is on the lease.”
Technically she was right, Kas had found the apartment, then I had found Kas on CraigsList. The lease had been in her name, but I had assumed that it was updated when I moved in...
“My name is on the lease, too,” I insisted. “You told me that you contacted the landlord and had my name added to the lease agreement.”
Kas huffed out another sigh and shook her head.
“I never did that,” she said.
“But you told me that you--”
“I lied,” she shrugged.
“Why would you lie about something like that?!”
“I don’t know,” she shrugged. “Maybe that’s something I should talk about with my shrink…”
“I can’t believe this,” I murmured, sinking my fingers through my hair and shaking my head.
“Desiree, I can see that you’re upset,” Kas said in a completely non-empathetic voice. “But really, you should be happy for me.”
“Happy? For you?!”
“Yes,” Kas nodded. “This is just a speed bump in the road towards my happiness.”
“Your… happiness?!”
“I found love, Desiree,” Kas said. “I met someone and he’s going to be moving in, and--”
“Wait,” I held up my hands. “You’re kicking me out because of some guy you just met?!”
“You’re clearly upset,” Kas sighed. “This isn’t the reaction I was expecting.”
“What were you expecting?! You’re kicking me out of our apartment!”
“My apartment…” Kas snipped under her breath.
Unbelievable, I thought to myself, shaking my head. Unbe-fucking-lievable.
“So… according to Google, I’m technically supposed to give you a thirty-day eviction notice,” Kas said. “But I was kinda hoping that you could, like, having all your stuff out of here within the next week? Stuart wants to start moving his stuff in next weekend--”
“No,” I said firmly. “Absolutely not. I will be taking the full thirty days, thank you very much.”
Kas blinked at me, and for one vengeful second I wished that she would cry, just so her $280 bullshit eyelash extensions would drip off. But she didn’t cry. Instead, she just sighed and reached for my wine glass on the counter.
“That’s my wine!” I snapped, snatching the wine glass away from her grasp.
Then, wine glass in hand, I stomped towards the coffee table and plopped myself down to grade the remainder of my essays.
Suddenly my AP students’ abysmal attempts to describe Newspeak didn’t seem quite so bad...