Read Online Moo by Jane Smiley - Free Book Online

to the weather, though that was something Ivar Harstad and the student affairs office worried about every year.
    Mary, Sherri, Keri, and Diane, all of whom were shocked by how poorly they were doing in their classes, but none of whom had confided this to the others, assuming that the others were doing well, were dressing with careful exhilaration for their first college bash.
    It could not be said that they were getting along well as a general rule. The most they felt for each other was relief at the familiarity of someone and some place in the wilderness of people and ideas they had entered upon three weeks before. Even so, getting ready was fun. The possessiveness each had been feeling about her clothes and makeup, the fear each had had that something might be used or borrowed without permission, had fallen away the moment Sherri said to Diane, “I have the perfect belt for that dress!” and then pulled out the perfect belt—black patent leather with a silver buckle shaped like a morning glory—and handed it over. Soon after that, Keri was wearing Mary’s purple miniskirt instead of the tasteful flowered print dress she had planned on, and Mary was trying on one of Diane’s hats. She hardly ever wore hats, but she had to admit that if she crushed one side a little bit, and cocked it over her eye, it gave her a very interesting look. And she liked the parrots marching around the band. They matched the orange and yellow blouse she had been planning to wear for a week. Then Diane said to Keri, “Oh! You’ve got Red Door! I love that!” and they all had to put some on, and discuss how best to put it on—spray it onto a cotton ball, then touch your hot points, or, as Keri insisted, spray a little cloud, then walk through it,
once
. Sherri walked through it twice, now that she was a redhead.
    Mary said to Keri, forgetting herself just a little, “Girl, you look sexy in that purple skirt!” and Keri’s face turned beet red, because looking sexy in that very purple skirt had been a fantasy of hers since the first day, when she watched carefully as Mary unpacked her clothes, and took note of every item. Her own clothes hung in a wan pastel lump in her side of the closet. When she got dressed in the morning, she didn’t even look at what she was putting on, knowing that it would look okay and much the same as yesterday. Instead, she looked at what Mary was putting on, which was an education. The thing about Mary, Keri thought, was that she was so effortlessly herself. She snatched things out of the closet and threw them on, making fashion decisions faster than a speeding bullet. Everything about Mary, Keri thought, was a positive contrast to herself, and while she was afraid to actively model herself on Mary, she thoughtby studying her, she might soak up something that would give her more energy, make being herself less of a labor.
    Sherri said, “I heard at these parties you get two guys, or more, to every girl, and lots of different types of guys, not just fraternity guys. I heard even some foreign students come.”
    “You mean, like, from New York City?” said Diane. “That would be foreign enough for me. Exactly.”
    Sherri puckered her lips speculatively into the mirror, then said, “What I dread is if kids from my high school show up. I wish there was a big banner, ‘Fishburn High, this is not for you, stick with your own kind.’ ”
    Keri said, “What kind is that?”
    “The gawky kind. Besides, one of them is sure to tell my old boyfriend if they see me dancing with someone else, God forbid I should flirt or kiss or, as my mother would say, throw my body around in a suggestive manner.”
    Mary said, “Didn’t you break up with him?”
    “I did, but it takes two to break up.”
    “That’s the truth.”
    “Well, girls,” said Sherri, “how do we look?”
    They stood up and gave each other the eyeball. Sherri tucked the label into the back of Diane’s blouse. “Fabulous,” said Diane. “Super