Chapter Text
Uzi Doorman had a very specific system for surviving college.
Walk fast. Look annoyed. Keep her sick ass headphones on, even if nothing was playing. Avoid eye contact with anyone standing around, holding a clipboard, or smiling too hard. Never sit in the middle of a lecture hall. Never answer discussion questions unless absolutely necessary. Never, under any circumstances, look approachable.
So far, the system had worked beautifully.
Most people on campus left her alone, which was exactly how she liked it. Or at least, exactly how she told everyone she liked it. That’s enough emotional repression for today, actually.
Uzi cut across the courtyard with her backpack hanging off one shoulder, her boots hitting the pavement a little harder than necessary. It was one of those early fall afternoons where campus looked annoyingly pretty, all golden leaves and soft wind and groups of students laughing on the grass like they were in a college brochure. It was offensive, honestly. No one should look that relaxed and happy on a Tuesday for god's sake.
She pulled one headphone back just enough to hear someone behind her call, “Hey, Uzi!”
She did not turn around.
“Uzi!”
Still did not turn around, started speed walking at that.
“Uzi Doorman, I know you can hear me!”
Uzi stopped walking, sighed like she had been asked to carry a boulder, and turned.
Thad jogged up to her with his backpack bouncing against his shoulder, smiling like he had never had a negative thought in his life. Which by all means was false, Uzi knew for a fact he had negative thoughts, he just had the unfair ability to make them look less miserable than hers.
“You know,” Thad said, slightly out of breath, “normal people usually respond when their best friend calls their name.”
Uzi blinked. “Probably a good thing I’ve never claimed to be normal then.”
“Unfortunately true.” Thad fell into step beside her. “You heading home?”
“No, I’m heading into the woods to become a local urban legend.”
“Cool. Can I come?”
“No. You’d ruin the vibe.”
“Because I’m too charming?”
“No, because you’re terrible at being even remotely mysterious.” Uzi glared, “You’d probably befriend anyone that went into the woods anyways.”
Thad grinned. “That I would be good at.”
“That’s the problem. Not edgy enough!”
They walked together toward the student apartments, weaving through clusters of people who were either talking way too loudly or walking way too slowly. Uzi kept her gaze forward, but she could feel Thad glancing at her every so often.
She hated when he did that.
Not because it was annoying, actually no, it was. But because Thad had known her since they were kids, which meant he had the horrible ability to tell when something was wrong before Uzi had decided if she was even going to admit something was wrong.
“What?” she snapped, glaring over at Thad.
Thad raised his hands in defeat. “Nothing!”
“You’re doing the thing.”
“What thing?”
“The thing where you look at me like I’m a wet cat in a cardboard box.”
He snorted. “That’s weirdly specific.”
“You’re weirdly specific.”
“Good one.”
“Shut up.”
Thad smiled, but it softened around the edges. “You just seem tired.”
“I’m in college. That’s my natural state now.” Uzi sighed, “Aren’t you tired too?”
“Yeah, but you’re extra tired.”
Uzi rolled her eyes and shoved her headphone fully back over her ear, even though the conversation was still very much happening. “Wow. Thanks. Super helpful observation.”
“Anytime.”
“I’m fine.”
“I didn’t ask.”
“You were going to.”
Thad did not answer right away. That was how she knew she had been right.
They reached the apartment building a few minutes later. Uzi fumbled with her keys, missed the lock twice, cursed under her breath, and finally shoved the door open with her hip.
“I’m home,” she called flatly.
“Unfortunately,” Doll replied from the kitchen.
Uzi kicked the door shut behind her. “Wow. Warm welcome. Really feeling the love around here.”
Doll sat at the kitchen table with her laptop open, a mug beside her, and a stack of printed notes perfectly aligned to her right. She did not look up from her screen. Her dark purple hair was tied back, and she had the sort of calm, composed expression that made people think she was harmless until she opened her mouth.
“Your laundry is still in the dryer,” Doll said.
Uzi froze halfway through dropping her backpack by the door.
Thad sucked in a breath through his teeth. “Oof.”
Uzi pointed at him. “Don’t.”
“I said nothing.”
“You breathed judgmentally.”
Doll finally looked up. “It has been in there since yesterday.”
Uzi blinked. “Okay, that sounds worse when you say it with, like, time attached.”
“I had to hang my clothes over the shower rod.”
Thad pressed his lips together, clearly fighting for his life.
Uzi glared at him. “You’re enjoying this.”
“I’m trying so hard not to.”
“I was going to move it,” Uzi said.
“When?” Doll stared.
Uzi paused.
Uzi looked away. “Eventually.”
“That is not a time.”
“Spiritually it is a time!”
“It is an excuse.”
Thad nodded. “A bad one.”
Uzi grabbed the laundry basket from beside the wall and started toward the laundry room. “Wow. Betrayed in my own home. Love that.”
“Move your clothes,” Doll said, returning to her laptop, “and remove the sock lint from the filter.”
Uzi stopped. “The what?”
Doll looked up again.
Thad quietly whispered, “Oh no.”
Doll’s expression did not change. “You have never cleaned the lint filter?”
Uzi slowly backed toward the hallway. “I suddenly have business elsewhere.”
“Uzi.”
“Can’t hear you. Doing laundry!”
Before she could make it to the laundry room, a voice from the living room said, “Oh my god, finally. I thought you died.”
Uzi stopped and slowly turned.
Lizzy was sitting on their couch.
Again.
She had one leg crossed over the other, her phone in one hand, and an iced coffee in the other. Her outfit looked way too coordinated for someone who technically did not live there. Pink sweater, white skirt, perfect makeup, shiny jewelry. She looked like she had been assembled by an algorithm designed to annoy Uzi personally.
“Why are you here?” Uzi asked.
Lizzy gasped. “No hello? No ‘wow, Lizzy, your hair looks amazing today’? No basic human decency?”
“No.”
Thad walked around Uzi and flopped onto the other end of the couch. “She’s here because we’re studying later.”
“Studying?” Uzi repeated. “Lizzy?”
Lizzy placed a hand over her chest. “I am deeply offended.”
“You once asked if a thesis statement was, and I quote, ‘the thing at the top of an essay that sounds confident.’”
“It was a valid question.”
“It was senior year.”
“Stop living in the past.”
Doll took a slow sip from her mug. “Your father called.”
The room changed so quickly it was almost annoying.
Thad’s playful expression faded a little. Lizzy glanced between them, clearly sensing that she had walked into something but not knowing what. Uzi stood near the couch, fingers tightening around the strap of her bag.
“Oh,” Uzi said.
Doll closed her laptop halfway. “I told him you were in class.”
“Cool.”
“He asked if you would call him later.”
“Cool.”
Thad sat up slightly. “Zi.”
“What?”
“You’re doing that thing where you say cool but look like someone just handed you a live grenade.”
“I don’t have a thing.”
“You have several things.”
"Bite me!" Uzi glared at him. “You are seconds away from becoming a thing I throw out the window.”
Thad leaned back, smiling again, but there was still worry in his eyes. “There she is.”
Uzi ignored him and pulled her phone out of her hoodie pocket.
Sure enough, there was a missed call from Dad.
Under it was a text.
Dad: Hey kiddo. Just checking in. Call me when you can. Love you.
Uzi stared at it.
The words should have been normal. They were normal. A dad checking on his daughter was not some world ending event. It was not even weird. Khan loved her. He worried. That was what parents did.
Except with Khan, worrying felt like a second language. He spoke it fluently. Constantly. In every conversation. In every pause. In every question that sounded simple but came with a dozen unspoken concerns underneath it.
Are you eating enough?
Translation: Are you taking care of yourself, or do I need to step in?
Are you making friends?
Translation: Are you lonely?
Are you sleeping?
Translation: Are you falling apart again?
Uzi hated that she could translate him so easily. She hated even more that part of her still wanted to call him back immediately, just to hear his voice. Despite their differences, she still missed her dad after all.
“You okay?” Lizzy asked.
Uzi looked up. Lizzy’s voice was softer than usual. That somehow made it worse.
“Why does everyone keep asking me that today?” Uzi muttered.
“Because you look like you’re one inconvenience away from biting through drywall,” Thad said.
“I always look like that.”
“Yeah, but today it has layers.”
Doll nodded once. “He is right.”
“Betrayal from both sides. Love that for me.”
Uzi turned away before anyone could look at her too closely and headed for the laundry room. She opened the dryer, pulled out her clothes, and shoved them into the basket with absolutely no folding involved.
Her phone buzzed again.
For one stupid second, she thought it was Khan.
It was not.
stupid jock: pizza tonight?
doll: We have leftovers.
uzi: i would rather lick the sidewalk
worst person on earth: rude???? i made those leftovers
uzi: my point stands
uzi: also u dont even live here lizzy u shouldnt have a say
worst person on earth: i practically do anyways
stupid jock: pizza it is
doll: We are not ordering pizza every time Uzi dislikes food.
uzi: why do you hate democracy
worst person on earth: because doll is secretly a dictator
doll: Secretly?
stupid jock: ordering pizza before this gets worse
Uzi stared at the messages and felt her mouth twitch.
Not a full smile. A small one.
Unfortunately, Thad chose that exact moment to appear in the doorway.
“Aww,” he said.
Uzi’s face dropped immediately. “Leave.”
“You smiled.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“You did.”
“I had a facial spasm.”
“Sure.”
“I hate you.”
“Love you too.”
He leaned against the doorframe, his expression gentler now. “You gonna call him back?”
Uzi looked down at the laundry basket.
“Later.”
“You said that last time.”
“And I did call him last time.”
“Three days later.”
“Still later.”
Thad sighed. Not disappointed. Patient in a way that made Uzi want to throw socks at him.
“He worries because he cares,” he said.
“I know.”
“He’s not trying to make you feel bad.”
“I know.”
“But it still does?”
Uzi hated him. Not really actually. A little.
She picked up a shirt from the basket and threw it at his face.
He caught it, laughing. “That means yes.”
“That means stop psychoanalyzing me in the laundry room!”
“Fair.”
He tossed the shirt back into the basket and left.
Uzi stood there for another moment, staring at her phone.
Then she opened Khan’s message.
She typed: I’ll call later.
She stared at it.
Deleted it.
Typed: Busy rn, call you tonight.
Deleted that too.
Finally, she locked the phone and shoved it into her pocket.
She would call him.
Eventually.
Probably.
She just needed to be in the right headspace first. A headspace that did not involve feeling like one phone call could turn her into a child again.
Uzi grabbed the laundry basket and carried it toward her room, stepping over a pair of Thad’s shoes in the hallway.
“Move your stupid shoes!” she yelled.
“They live there now!” Thad yelled back.
“I’m evicting them!”
“Give them thirty days’ notice!”
Uzi rolled her eyes, but the apartment felt warm around her. Thad laughing in the living room. Doll typing at the kitchen table. Lizzy complaining dramatically about pizza toppings she was absolutely still going to eat.
This was her life. It was fine. She was fine!
And if she repeated that enough times, eventually it had to become true.