Sunday, October 5, 2008

Chapter Seventeen

"And could you be inspired? No, I'm just tired." Azure Ray
Marie and I were lying on her bed, stoned and talking about the previous days’ events.
“So what did you and Jason talk about?” I had been working up to asking her than, and the pot definitely helped.
“Just like, the band and stuff.” She was being deliberately vague, I could tell.
“Did you,” I swallowed, my mouth dry, “talk to Andrew?”
“Nah, I have your back.”
“Thanks M, but it was so freaky to see him. You know?”
“I know, those guys were our best friends, and now it’s like…nothing.”
“Well, I meant, more like, he and I were in love or whatever.” Now I was being vague.
“Or whatever.” She rolled her eyes. “You were totally into him, you just fucked it up. It’s ok, you’re too young to get all serious, you know?”
“I know, I know.”
She rolled over onto her stomach.
“You’re better without him. More fun and less worried all the time.”
She was right, except I was less happy as well.
“Let’s go raid your organic fridge.” I suggested.
“At least they’re not macrobiotic anymore. It was like twigs and berries. Ugh, and their raw food phase, terrible.”
I laughed, and realized again how surreal their house was. It was like a museum, a perfect microcosm of the bohemian yuppie elite. Tasteful art and organic tapioca pudding. It made my stiff, tailored colonial look positively drab. My parents preferred understated.
With a mouthful of a bran muffin, I asked Marie about Viv.
“Do you think she’s ok? She’s been, I don’t know, worse than usual.”
“She’s fine; she just never knows her limits. As long as we’re with her, she’ll be fine.”
“You think? Jesus, I have the worst cottonmouth.”
“The fiber in that thing is probably not helping.” Marie giggled in the awkward, disjointed way potheads often do.
“Well, if your parents ate normally, we could be eating like….blueberry muffins” I broke off into laughter as well. My head felt like it was thick in cotton, from sleep deprivation and the smoking. “Dude, I need to lie down.” I spilled crumbs down my worn tee-shirt. We went back into her room, and snuggled down to watch Reality Bites on her laptop. I fell asleep with my head on her shoulder.
I was excited to go to work the next day, as I was finishing up the article about Steven for next month’s issue. Leo was going to edit it, but mostly it’d be my work. We were going to put it all in there, and I really wanted to shove one into Andrew's mail slot.
“Oh, this part is great.” Leo rewound the tape to the pancake question .”Where do you think of this stuff?”
“I have too much time on my hands, I guess.” I shrugged. She rewound the tape, and looked at my notes again.
“So how are things going?”
“Oh god, we’ve only been on one and a half dates. One that I remember fully, that is.”
“You crazy kids. I don’t get how you all party so much. I must be getting old.”
“I think I’ll calm down once I hit twenty one, or something. God, burned out by twenty one.”
“Oh please, we all are like that. You would not believe what Shannon,” She named the beauty editor, “Used to be like.”
“Really?” Shannon was now married.
“Yeah we all go through it, then you grow up.”
“I’m,” I stopped, “I’m worried about my friend Viv.” As soon as I said it, I regretted bringing it up. We just didn’t talk about it, us girls, and I felt like I was betraying our little secret society. Plus Marie said she would be fine.
“Yeah, she seemed,” Leo paused, thoughtful, “Out of it.”
“No kidding.”
“Just watch her, catch her when she falls, you know? Maybe talk to her sober.” She seemed genuinely concerned for Viv. I wondered how she could see it when no one else apparently could.
“Okay,” I sighed, “Back to the task of publishing my date for the whole world to see.”
The summer melted toward August, the city emptying in an exodus to the Hamptons, leaving only our broke hipster friends behind. We had 4th of July rooftop parties in Brooklyn, and drinks on the East Side. I dated Steven casually, trying to avoid the exclusivity talk I knew he was trying to have with me. My heart wasn’t really in it.

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