Sunday, October 5, 2008

Chapter Five

“we exchanged words through smoke-filled mouths. And then we found our bodies speaking loud” Azure Ray

I really hate when guys tell me to call them. I’m a feminist and all, but the calling thing has to be encoded in guy DNA, or at least an evolutionary survival tactic. I never know how soon is too soon, or if I text, and how do I leave a voicemail without sounding crazy. This is another instance where I feel like I’m right back in 8th grade, with a middle part and braces.
“You’re such a pussy!” Viv exclaimed.
“The longer you wait, the more you’re going to harsh our night.” Marie added.
We were sitting around again, a few days later, sprawled out with some half-hearted assignments out. I sipped my red wine, and took the joint Marie passed. I let my lungs fill, and exhaled.
“Alright, alright! Don’t make noises in the background!” I felt like I was making prank calls at a deranged sleepover. I dialed, and held my breath while it rang.
“Hello?” I put it on speaker phone.
“Hey, Andrew?” I felt my voice echo inside my head.
“Yeah, who’s this?” I paused, feeling awkward he didn’t remember me. Shit, shit, shit. I couldn’t get out now.
“It’s uhm, Jane.”
“Oh, hey!” He sounded genuinely happy and I relaxed a little.
“How are you?”“Well, I’ve been waiting to hear from you, for one thing.”
I felt the stupid smile creeping back on my face.
“I’ve been busy, don’t whine. What are you up to?”
“Just drinking a few beers with the other guys and some of our college friends at this bar near campus. What about you three? I’m assuming you’re all together.”
“You guessed correctly. We’re just sitting around, attempting to forget about midterms with pot and red wine.”
“You guys want to come down here? Hang out for a
while?”
“Let me ask…” I covered the phone and looked at them. They both gave thumbs up. “Yeah, we’ll be there in a bit.”

We got ready in record time for us, because a bar like this didn’t necessitate full regalia. Our idea of casual still solicited stares, but that’s what we aimed for anyways.
Marie took her car that night, navigating down Boston’s winding cobblestones until we reached Cambridge.
“Mmm, I can smell the preppies.” Viv exclaimed, slurring her words.
“Oh, charming, Vivian, keep it together, please.” Marie said with biting sarcasm.
“No fun, M, no fun!” She batted Marie’s head over the seatback. I giggled.
We walked into the dark pub and I spotted their group towards the back.
We walked over weaving through the groups of Harvard students, hearing bits of conversation.
“Hey guys.” Andrew jumped up when he saw us. His band-mates waved, Drummer Boy winked at Marie. The rest of his friends, scruffy looking guys in beanies and faded t-shirts, looked kind of shocked by us. Viv’s skintight black minidress was covered by a cropped fur coat were, admittedly, a little out of place at this college bar. Marie had hopped onto Drummer Boy’s lap, whose name I had finally learned, Jason. Her opaque tights were riddled with runs and she wore a pleated kilt which constantly threatened to expose something. And I had gone rockabilly, with a high-waisted pencil skirt and a plaid shirt tied at the waist. They boys kept looking from one of us to another, as we shook hands and promptly forgot names. Andrew made a space for me next to him in the booth. As I shook my neighbors hand, he whispered in my ear, “You look amazing. Very ‘Crybaby’.”
“Oh, a John Waters reference this early in the evening?” I turned my head in towards his, and his hand found mine under the table. Viv had found someone to buy her a martini already, a Ken Doll looking Harvard boy. These guys looked at her in a way that scared me, like they were already formulating the phrase “She asked for it” in their heads. I murmured to Andrew that I’d be right back, and eased out of the booth.
“There you are, Vivian. Sorry, we have to go to the bathroom.” I pulled her, as she giggled and waved.
“What am I going to do with you?” I exclaimed as I pulled her into the bathroom. Her motions got the languid, exaggerated quality of a drag queen when she was fucked up like this.
“Look what I got?” she pulled out a little baggie of coke, “Party favor from the rich kids.”
“You say that like you’re not from Westchester.”
“Do you have a key?”
I sighed, but really, who turns down free drugs? You know, probably a lot of people, but I liked to rationalize that way. My friends don’t turn down free drugs, so who cared?
The lines woke me up from my pot haze, but now I was nervous. Anxious about Andrew, anxious about taking care of Viv, managing Marie’s bad moods, the midterms I was avoiding. I looked in the mirror. My eyes stared back at me, and they were impassive, blank. I swallowed, and looked away. My own apathy had just stared me straight in the face.
“Come on, lady, let’s roll” Viv crowed, scaring some Harvard girls. She did look kind of terrifying, I had to admit. We made our way back to the table, and Marie shot us daggers. Andrew looked up, “I wondered where you had gotten off too.”
“Oh makeup emergency, you know.”
“Well I heard some underage Harvard freshman talking about the crazy looking girls in the bathroom, so I figured…” He nudged me.
“Yeah, did we scare your friends too much?”
“They were just mad that I had called you already.”
“Oh really?” I hoped I hid the thrill I felt well enough.
“Want a drink?”
“Gin martini, up.” When boys bought you a drink, it was best to get something classic, we all agreed. Something girly, fruity or trendy made it seem like you couldn’t keep up with the boys. We wanted to prove we were not delicate flowers. Marie was, at the moment, doing Jager-bombs with her new friends at the other end of the table.
“I’ll come with.” I squeezed Andrew’s hand, and followed him.
“I was right though, to call off the boys before they started sniffing around you?” His confident smile just reminded me of Marie’s warning.
“You’ll have to wait and see. So what is a future rockstar doing at a lame college bar?”
“Two dollar Dewars. And my friends are still my lame college friends,” he laughed “They all went to our first show in our dorm room. We all wore no pants. Lots of skinny, pale non-athletic legs. Very rock star, right?”
I laughed, and teased “I think I live a more rock n’ roll life than you. When are you going on tour?”
“This summer, just a few venues in New York, and then up to Canada. Mostly small bars and stuff. I’m a little nervous to be in a van with Jason, Colin and Dave for that long.”
“Oh I’m sure you’ll have a bunch of groupies in every bar, just like how you met me.”
He stopped and looked at me,
“You think you’re just a groupie? Groupies don’t have a book collection as nerdy as mine, and they don’t have my phone number.”
“Ok, mister, enough with the flattery. You’ll make me blush.”
I was secretly thrilled, something I wouldn’t tell Marie, and probably not even Viv. I took a pull from my glass.
“Let’s go back, and make sure my friends haven’t caused any damage.”
“My guess is yes, but we’ll check.”
I pulled Viv and Marie into the bathroom, and recounted a few white lies about Andrew as we did a few white lines each. When we got out, one of the boys invited everyone back to his apartment. Viv, Marie and I linked arms, and laughed. I was fucked up enough that the scene was blurring again, a frame by frame grainy film reel. I remembered my 10 a.m. class tomorrow, but I was drunk on more than just alcohol; on my friends, these crazy gorgeous girls, this amazing boy, just forgetting tomorrow, fuck it. Fuck it.

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