For the real slow-dance gang
and
in loving memory of David R.
It was early August when I finally asked Rachel out. The slow-dance gang was over by then. That probably had something to do with why I threw caution to the wind on that particular evening, though I'm really not sure.
We were all still in town except for Mattieu and Lenka, and everyone else at the student house still called us 'the slow-dance gang' with as much sneering disapproval as always. But Rachel had said the slow-dance gang was over, and that meant it was over. No one else knew just why. What we did know was it was her apartment with the empty living room for a dancefloor, and her CDs, and her sense of being the leader of the gang even though she was the only one who didn't live in the student house. And so we never questioned it, or at least I didn't. It wasn't really the slow-dance gang to me anymore with Lenka gone back to Budapest anyway. She was the den mother, a few years older, the one I'd always turned to when I couldn't face watching Arlene waltz about in Leo's arms yet again. And I had no desire to face that on my own. So I contented myself with knowing our romantic little parties were now but a bittersweet memory.
The summer still had about a month to go, and we passed our free time together enjoyably enough. Weekend nights usually found us sipping our gin and tonics at the sidewalk cafΓ©s on Eighteenth Street until it was dark and watching movies at the student house afterwards -- and never, ever talking about the impending breakup of the rest of the gang. That particular Friday night started out the way they usually did, with a muddle of where-are-we-going in the foyer of the student house. I think it was Jacob -- as usual -- who took charge by asking, "The Red Onion? They have happy hour until nine."
"Perfect, Jacob," Arlene agreed, dragging Leo by the hand as usual. "Leo and I won't be staying that late anyway."
"You always say that, Arlene," Rachel needled her best friend.
"Aw, leave the lovebirds alone, and let's get out of here!" Jacob declared, and like the gentleman he mostly wasn't, he held the door open for Arlene and Leo, followed quickly by Maria, Rachel, myself and, quietly bringing up the rear as usual, Hope. "Let's go get...enlightened," he said with a dramatic flair on the last word, and a knowing glance at Arlene and her preemptive disapproval of the word "drunk". Then he took Maria by the arm and her face lit up as it always did when he paid her any mind.
"Enlightened!" Rachel repeated with the same goofy tone she always used to repeat Jacob's punchlines. Turning to me, she said, "Pete, you already look 'enlightened'. More Friday afternoon drinking on the job?"
I laughed. "Yeah, that wouldn't go over too well." I had a steady job crunching numbers at a polling firm, boring but dependable, and having previously lost my dream job several months before, I wasn't about to mess up this time with a stunt like drinking at the office. "Nah, I'm just...I don't know, not really in the mood for drinks, I guess." I forced myself not to cast yet another longing look at Arlene and Leo. I had, miraculously, kept my crush on her to myself, and it wouldn't do for loose-lipped Rachel to be the first to learn about it.
"Aw, Pete!" Rachel threw her arms around me for an awkward but pleasant side-hug as we approached the corner of Eighteenth Street. "Maybe that just means you need it the most. I mean, Arlene and Hope and I, we're in that pressure cooker all day long studying, while you guys are getting paid to work -- you ought to be happy about that! We're the ones who need cheering up, I think. Right, Hope?" she asked, looking over her shoulder while still hanging on to me.
"Huh?" Hope said. "Sorry, I was thinking about my project for Monday."
"Guys, we're here to have fun!" Rachel said. "No worrying about class or work, just for now, okay, or else why are we even here?"
"To be together while we still can," I said. "Ever since Lenka left I've been thinking --"
"Stop!" Rachel clamped her hand over my mouth. "No reminders of that! None of us wants to think about it! But yes, let's enjoy our time together."
"Is that your updated script for
Casablanca
, Rachel?" Jacob quipped, then just as quickly he turned back to flirting with Maria.
"Hey," I recalled out loud while Rachel was laughing like a hyena, "I read that's playing at the Royale uptown. I've never seen it on the big screen, have you?"
"No, and I'd love to!" Rachel said.
I forced my best shy smile. "Want to go? Tomorrow?"
Rachel shook her head. "I can't. Too much work. But thanks."
I nodded wordlessly. At least now I could tell Arlene, who had tried to play matchmaker with us back in the spring, that I had finally asked her.
Jacob was the next one set to go, having gotten into an MFA program off the waiting list up in Boston. When we got to the Red Onion, he and Rachel picked up on their usual regaling one another with their nonsense as usual, while Maria played with his hair and Leo and Arlene lingered over their glasses at the end of the table and I tried to ignore them from my end. I made no such effort to ignore Rachel, who I knew wasn't girlfriend material. Not like Arlene would have been if only I'd noticed her a few weeks earlier than I had. It would have been a fleeting affair anyway, after all.
Besides, I had a secret of my own that I hadn't sprung on any of the gang yet, not even Arlene and certainly not Rachel. I had an offer on the table to go to China to teach English. After two years in the student house -- over twice as long as the rest of the gang, and I'd seen dozens of friends come and go, although none were as tight as the slow-dance gang -- I had an opportunity to go off and see the world like most of my friends from there had done. But I wasn't yet sure if I was up to taking that chance, so I hadn't yet told anyone.
Hope was across from me, the only one drinking beer as she hated gin. Our eyes met from time to time as we listened to Jacob doing his usual shtick, and once again I wished I'd tried a little harder to get to know her. But I was through with flirting for the evening after the rejection from Rachel, on top of all those months of pining for Arlene.
"So a guy at the museum says we've got to go into the archives and 'pull out' all the Dickens files," Jacob said, causing Rachel to spew her drink. She spattered a bit on Hope's bare arm, and apologetically mopped it up with a napkin but never took her eyes off Jacob. "And I just feel like saying, 'Pull out the Dickens. Yeah, baby.'"
"Yeah baby!" Rachel repeated, holding up her hand for a high-five, which Jacob gave her as usual.
"What is their latest victory, Pete?" Arlene asked me from her end of the table.
"The usual," I said. "Everything boils down to an Austin Powers impression."
"Doesn't it, though?" Arlene replied with that shy smile that had caught my eye just a little too late back in March. "Come join us if you're feeling left out. Leo was just telling me about his latest string quartet practice."
"Was not," Leo replied with that usual European chill in his voice, and I believed him. Leo never said much of anything, although he must have said the right thing to Arlene at some point.
I returned Arlene's smile and did toy with getting up to join them. But as usual, I neither said no to Arlene nor accepted her invitation -- a strategy that I was quite sure was the only reason why our friendship had survived those months. Instead I turned to Hope. "So, any dirty jokes from your day?" I quipped.
"The kids probably had dozens," Hope replied. "But they know better than to repeat them where I can hear them!"
"Smart kids." Undoubtedly they'd noticed how demure Hope always was. You'd almost have guessed she was among the youngest children of a quiverfull family without her telling you, which for the most part she didn't until after plenty of rounds at the bar.
"They are," Hope agreed. "I'm going to miss them when we get our new assignments."