~ October 31, 2003 - 2:54 a.m. ~
Coffee House Blues
I thought I would have a job by now. A proper job. A career move, if not a be-all-end-all job. I have submitted so many resumes, filled out so many applications, tapped every contact I can think of, and I am stilling looking. I�ve found nothing. And my parents are trying to be supportive, but they�re really only stressing me out, and I find myself lying to them to get them off my back. Because seriously? Dad keeps saying that I�m charismatic and I just need to get in front of people, and I should stop applying to all these jobs posted on the internet, and look for �real work� and actually suggested that I walk into the editor�s office at this magazine and plunk my resume on her desk. And when I pointed out that post-911 security would ensure that I wouldn�t get past the lobby, he told me to mail it directly to her, instead of human resources, despite the fact that this magazine was not actually hiring at the time, because surely when she reads about how great I am, she will magically create a position for me. So I say fine, sure, how the hell do I mail it to her? He says look the address up. All I can find on the net is the address for the magazine�s HR department (surprise, surprise) and Dad says that�s not good enough, it has to be the editor or the CEO or someone high up, otherwise it will just get buried in HR. OK, fine, I say. How am I supposed to get the unlisted address for the editor or CEO?�I don�t know Gina! You�re the researcher! Look it up. And use a real resource, not just the web.�
Jesus Christ. I mean, really what fucking century is this, could someone please remind me? Perhaps in my Dad�s day, walking into someone�s office and handing in your resume for a job that didn�t exist was cool, and you didn�t look for jobs online because there was no internet, but that�s not how things work anymore, especially not in my industry, and I just cannot make him see that. No, Dad. They don�t have career fairs for writers. There are no recruiters out there looking for me. I�m doing the best I can, and I�m still pathetic and jobless, and probably an embarrassment to my parents. Yeah, sure, she could graduated from college in three years, but she obviously didn�t learn anything useful because no one wants to hire her. I am just waiting for the moment my Dad busts out and tells me that I should have taken a business course or two so I would know what�s what, but really when did I have time amid the 20+ credit semesters filled with extracurriculars? And what fucking good would it have done? The people who are looking for people with the type of experience that includes a marketing class or two are looking for people who majored in business. Not some girl who took �a class or two� in between her colloquium on the Bible in the Middle Ages and her introductory Gaelic class.
I feel like I�m headed for stressed-out disaster, of the variety that has previously ended in panic attacks, therapy, or a joyless combination of the two. Of course, that might be the hormones talking. I really hate that part. Every month I morph into this lunatic who swings violently from blind rage to hysterical depression, in between bouts of nausea. If Tech still reads this, he can just hit the back button on his browser now, or perhaps scroll down to the bit about high school hijinks, because the next bit is all about my period, and fuck you Tech, I�m a girl, I bleed down there, and I�m dealing with it in my very public journal because I�m not ashamed of my body or anything, since I�m all liberated and shit, so piss off!!!
Ahem. Tech, if he is still reading this, did not deserve that. That was most definitely still the hormones talking, and I have only left it in here for your viewing pleasure so you will understand that I am, in fact, freaking out a little . . . or something. Point is, hormonal tinkering is occurring, but in the meantime, I think I�m some sort of monster, because Tim has been sort of walking on eggshells around me and talking in low, soothing tones, stroking my hair, fetching me ice cream and tea, and rubbing my feet in an attempt to prevent me from exploding with a screaming fit or crying jag.
That said, blah. I feel icky. And very blah indeed. And must needs cheer myself up with a little tale I�d like to entitled �Coffee House.�
�So, Gina,� I�ve been asked. �How do you come up with phony names you use to protect your friends� identities?�
Good question. Well, some of my friends who have active �web lives� have provided pseudonyms of their own, such as JennyBlues or Odellalin. Perdita is another example, but, due to our long nickname history, is also confusingly referred to on these pages as Meggers or Megrod.
Tech�s name is derived from the illustrious university he attends. Em is a derivative of her real name. Birk is so-called because, as a big hippy freak, she kept telling me to wear Birkenstocks for so long that I finally did, fell in love with them, and then talking about them too much because she then proceeded to mock me tireless for my love of them throughout our �friendship.� Heart got her pseudonym because I know several people with Heart�s real first name, so when I�d refer to her at home, I would refer to her as �So-and-So. You know, the So-and-So with the blond hair and heart-shaped face.� That, and she was just a real fucking sweetheart. Dinah always wished she was named Dinah, and Mason agreed to be referred to as such when I wrote a play with him as a thinly veiled character back in eighth grade. Travis was Travis�s middle name, which he always said he was going to use as a penname. Linz was a high school nickname, Red dyed her hair that color more times than I can count . . . you get the point. There are more weird-ass pseudonyms to come, and I�ll try to remember to explain them all when I bring them up. This issue you�ll meet Penelope (named for her cat) and Lilith (same explanation as Mason, only with poetry, not a play). And I�m sure someone remembers my darling Neverly. Anyway, onto the story.
�The Coffee House�
The Imagination Club seemed like the epitome of cool when I was in middle school at SOA. Filled with upperclassmen reading soulful poetry and rocking in their garage bands, I joined the club in eighth grade, and was co-president by the time I was a senior, dedicated to the loosely-organized group through good times and bad. Sorry to say, after we left the North Shore campus, it was mostly bad. That was when we lost the old Black Box and the lunch courtyard, which were our main performance spaces. We�d have open mics and live music twice a month at lunch time, usually led by our house band, who could never stick with a name, but who was immortalized in a tie-dyed banner as Radio-One. When I became the president, I inherited this emblem, along with a dingier tie-dyed banner which read �I-Fest,� and was the harbinger of our annual spring �Imagination Festival.� I embezzled them when I left office, and received the joy of returning the Radio-One banner to one of its original creators last year. The I-Fest banner is here in my apartment now, and Tim and I treasure it, but I digress.
Every month, I-Club would hold a coffee house in the old Black Box on North Shore campus where SOA was located until after my ninth grade year. The crappy little space was already so old and shitted up that the theatre department didn�t care if we ate or drank (or spilled large vats of coffee) on the premises, and besides, half the theatre department�s �golden children� de jour were in the club at that point, and Old BB denied her prize actors nothing. Penelope, who came to SOA freshman year, and I were the two youngest active members. Penelope always wrote amazing poetry, and she was always right up there on the open mic (there are several yearbook pictures attesting to this). I was not that brave, so I usually signed up to work in the wings, or do setup or cleanup. I was not shy about doing monologues or anything, but I didn�t write those myself. I poured my juvenile little soul into my poetry, and I wasn�t brave enough to bare that soul under a spotlight with a bunch of upperclassmen staring at me and trying not to laugh. So, at some point in winter, I think just after holiday break, I talked Penelope into doing setup with me and working one witnessing shift for a coffee house. Not that it took much convincing; Penelope�s new boyfriend was working the coffee pots that night. But what I really wanted was some back up, because I was madly trying to court the Beast.
It�s not easy for me to talk about this, because he was the Beast, but when I was fourteen, I thought he was the love of my fucking life. Hell, what did I know? A few short months earlier I was locking lips with Tech, and now I couldn�t bear the sight of him, poor boy.
Penelope and I stayed after school to work on setting up the black box, hauling tables and chairs around, rearranging the curtains, doing food prep stuff. We both agreed to take the first wait staff shift, as the Crew wasn�t going to be getting there until later in the evening. I remember the sound check; I was particularly partial to a small band of sophomores called Renegade Nuns on Wheels. Little did I know that this was Tim�s band, but Lilith and I really loved it when they played. We used to sit around for hours trying to figure out what kind of wheels these nuns were supposed to be on. Lilith was guessing motorcycles. My vote was rollerskates. It was, for the record, and all male band . . .
It was really surreal sitting around after the setup eating pizza with all these upperclassmen (mostly seniors) who I just worshipped. Not because of that dog-eared �they are older, and I am young and small� hero-worship deal, though. We had an amazing senior class of actors that year, and they were so talented it would make you cry, which I often did if they were onstage. They were incredible, and most of them were also very talented musicians, particularly the members of Radio-One, who also came from the Communications and Music departments, if I remember correctly. They had written the club�s theme-song, �Beniko�, and I just loved them. It was a real trip when one of them remembered my name, and someone kept urging me to read something tonight, so I said I�d think about it.
Before we knew it, the place was swamped. The coffee houses were amazingly popular back in the day, and I had reserved a good table for the Crew. By the time my shift was over (Penelope had decided to work all night because her boyfriend was), I joined Em, Birk, Heart, Dinah, Lilith, Tech, Mason, and Travis at the table. We always put crayons on the table, and Dinah was trying to show Heart how to draw the Celtic knot I was embroidering onto my jeans. Em grabbed my arm the minute I sat down.
�Is Leigh here?�
�Somewhere.� Leigh was Em�s ex-girlfriend, a senior, and, like almost everyone Em dated in high school, a total bitch. We were all relieved when they broke up, but I have always held a grudge against Leigh, who broke Em�s heart and then trampled on it royally. I never knew what Em saw in her. She smelled overwhelmingly of patchouli and her hair and skin were the same weird sandy color.
�I need to talk to her.�
�Em, no. Let�s go outside and talk.� We slipped out the back into the dim hallway. I folded my arms across my chest. �Em, things have just gotten all cleared up with Birk. Don�t go messing around with Leigh.�
Em laughed. �Gina, I don�t give a shit about Leigh. She and I have both moved on.�
�She�s still a bitch. You know, she wouldn�t even look at me during setup?�
�She can�t be that much of a bitch, or she wouldn�t be lending me her car.�
I hit Em�s arm. �What the fuck are you going to do with Leigh�s car? Em, you don�t even have your permit yet!�
�Relax. I�m just going to listen to the radio. With Birk. Look, can you go backstage and ask her for the keys? Tell her I sent you.�
�She wouldn�t talk to me before. Why don�t you just go back there?�
�Because I�m not allowed and you are.�
I rolled my eyes. �Fine. Wait at the table.� I stalked backstage, and ran right into the Beast. I blushed violently.
�Um, hey. Have you seen Leigh anywhere?�
�Oh yeah,� he said, oblivious. �Yeah, she just ran out to get more ice. Can you believe we�re already out?�
�Wow, really? Lots of people tonight, huh?� Gee, wasn�t I smooth?
�Yeah. You gonna perform anything?�
I blushed even harder, brushing non-existent strands of hair behind my ears. �Um, I don�t think so. I don�t have anything prepared. You?�
�Yeah, I�ve got a couple of poems and I�m gonna sing. I just started playing the bass.�
�That�s awesome! Where are you in the lineup, I�ll be sure to watch?� I said enthusiastically before I could stop myself.
�I�m right in the middle, but I�m doing arse-kickings in a minute. You should buy one.�
The I-Club had a few unconventional items on the menu, such as arse-kickings and verbal put downs, which you could order for five and ten cents, respectively.
�Definitely. Well . . .�
�Well, you should get back to your table and order one.�
�Oh, right. Um, see you around.�
�Yup.�
I staggered back out to the table in a happy daze. Em pulled me down to kneel beside her chair.
�What did she say?�
�What did who say?�
�Leigh! Didn�t you get the keys?�
�What? Oh, no I didn�t. She went out for ice. She should be back soon.�
�Fuck.�
�Not without the car,� I grinned, and Em elbowed me affectionately.
�Look,� she said. �When I do get the car, just keep Heart away, ok? Don�t tell her where we went.�
This was before Heart was used to Birk just slipping away to make out, and often looked for her, enlisting others to help, often to everyone�s embarrassment.
�I�ll try.� I took my seat, just as our waitress returned, plopping a Styrofoam cup filled with chocolate pudding on the table. I looked up, to see that it was Neverly.
�What�s that?� I asked.
�In honor of the house band,� she said. �Tonight they�re calling themselves �Electric Pudding�.�
�I thought they were �Radio-One,� Lilith said.
�Nope,� Nev replied. �That was last time. Not tonight. Can I get you guys anything?�
�Hot cocoa,� I said quickly. �Thanks, Nev.�
�No problem, Gina. You gonna read tonight.�
�Not likely.�
�Aww.�
As she left, I turned my attention to the stage, where a girl was finishing a poem. There hadn�t been any music yet, due to technical difficulties; it seemed only one mic was working.
�Oh gross!�
I turned back to see Dinah wiping something off her sweater. I looked down. The entire table was covered with pudding, as was Tech, who had been finger painting with it, and in a matter of moments, had destroyed the table cloth.
�What the fuck, Tech!� Mason griped.
�Jesus, Tech, what are you five?� Travis snorted.
�No, he�s just an asshole.� I smirked.
�Shut up, Gina.�
�Tech,� Em said. �You�re being a jerk.�
Just as chaos was about to erupt, Nev returned with my cocoa, staring at the table.
�What the hell happened there?�
�Tech decided to finger paint.� Heart huffed.
�Dude,� Neve said, annoyed. �You can�t abuse pudding privileges like that. I�ll get you a new table cloth.�
�I also like to order an arse-kicking and a verbal put-down for him!� I said, thrusting the requisite fifteen cents into Nev�s hand.
Soon she was back with a new table cloth. �No more pudding for this table. You ruined it,� she told Tech. At that moment, the Beast wandered into the spot light, tapping the mic.
�Good evening,� he said in a drawling fake British accent. �In just a few moments, Electric Pudding will take the stage. But before that, someone here has been very naughty with the complimentary pudding. Tech, would you come up on stage for your arse kicking?�
Tech remained planted firmly in his seat. Undeterred, the Beast came over and kicked half-heartedly at Tech�s butt.
�It won�t work if you don�t get up,� he drawled.
�Fuck you,� Tech snarled. �Get away from my ass, man!�
The entire black box roared at the display. The Beast leisurely made his way back to the stage and exaggeratedly cleared his throat. �And now for the insults. You are so ugly that you looked in the mirror, and the mirror broke. You are so fat that you weigh a lot of pounds. You are so poor that you don�t have any money. Thank you.� He bowed and handed the mic over to the lead singer of Electric Pudding, who had just taken the stage. The entire room hooted and applauded. Later, I would learn that this evening�s performance was being recorded, and that the verbal bashing I ordered would become part of the prologue to the I-Club Coffee House Live Album. I never listen to it anymore because I hate hearing the Beast�s voice, but I listened to the whole album again tonight, so I can remember.
Soon Radio-One, excuse me, Electric Pudding , was blaring pleasantly. I was getting into the music, so I didn�t notice that Birk and Em were gone until Dinah tugged my sleeve.
�Heart says that Birk and Em left, like, ten minutes ago and they still aren�t back. We�re gonna go to the bathroom, and then look for them. Are you coming?�
�Um, I don�t think so. Look, I came here to see the performances, not to go chasing after people. Besides, if they aren�t back yet, don�t you think they maybe want a little . . . privacy?�
�Where are they gonna go at this hour? The whole school is closed off.�
�That never stopped Em,� I mummbled.
�Huh?�
�Nothing. Look, I don�t have to go to the bathroom. I�ll catch up to you later.�
As soon as they were gone, I slipped out the back into the parking lot. Leigh�s car was still gone. Where the hell did she go for that ice? I wondered uselessly. I made my way to the back of the lot near the chain-link fence that separated it from the rest of the school grounds. On the other sides where the portables that butted onto the old baseball field that we art school kids would have never used anyway. I knew that Em was partial to the crumbling dugouts that were still there.
�Em!� I hissed. �Jesus, Em, where are you?�
�Looking for something?� A deep voice said from behind me.
I jumped, turning quickly. It was one of the campus rent-a-cops.
�Um, nope.� I said. �Some one told me my friend was in the parking lot.�
�I don�t see anyone here,� the rent-a-cop said.
�Uh, yup, so I better go back inside,� I said, fleeing. I figured he was looking to catch me smoking or something. On my way back into the blackbox, I ran into Dinah and Heart who were leaving it.
�Um, nope guys, she�s not out here!� I said loudly for the rent-a-cop�s benefit.
�What are you-� Dinah began.
�Just get back inside.� I hissed at her.
�I don�t see why we should-� Dinah went on.
�Jesus, Dinah, the stupid security guy�s out there,� said Heart, who was much less dense.
We went back inside. Lilith grabbed my arm. �Where have you been? You�re hardly watching the performance. Renegade Nuns on Wheels is on in a bit.�
�I promise, I am not moving from this spot.�
Sadly, that was not a promise I ended up keeping. Before I knew it, Dinah was harassing me to go find Em, and Travis had gone home early, leaving Mason to chastise Tech for being loud and ripping up the new paper table cloth by himself. Lilith, the only upperclassman among us, got fed up with the atmosphere unconducive to paying attention to the performances and moved to a table where some of her other friends sat. Just as Renegade Nuns on Wheels came on, Heart and Dinah hauled me out of the my seat to the parking lot.
�Look,� said Heart. �You obviously know where Em and Birk are. Go get them.�
I looked at her and Dinah as if they were crazy. �Why? I don�t personally care where they are. I just want to watch the show.�
�Well, they can�t just stay wherever they are. They�ll get in trouble,� Dinah said, folding her arms stubbornly. �So go get them before they get caught.�
�Little late for that,� a shadowy figure said. Em stepped into the light, as Birk motioned Heart and Dinah to her. The three went off to the girls room, as Em took me aside to the other end of the parking lot.
�What happened?� I asked.
�Ah, we got caught. We weren�t doing anything much though. We were just sitting in the dugout talking. The rent-a-cop must have over heard us.�
�Tough break.� At that moment, Leigh�s car screamed back into the lot, and Em�s eyes lit up. �Look,� I said. �Can I go back inside now?�
�Yeah, yeah, whatever,� Em said. She was already on her way over to Leigh.
�Jesus, what a night,� I said, shuffling back to the black box. Before I was more than three steps inside, Mason was shoving me back out the door.
�What, what what?!� I shouted at him. Out the corner of my eye, I could see Leigh and Em negotiating.
�Gina, you have got to do something about Tech. He is fucking out of control.�
� You do something about him,� I spat. �He�s not my problem anymore.�
�Well, he�s being a huge dick.�
�Bet you�d like it if he was a huge dick.�
�How many times do I have to tell you people? I! Am! Not! Gay! And that was in really tasteless.�
�Whatever, Mason. Look, I�ll talk to him, ok?� I said. �Now, can we puh-leeze go back inside and watch the fucking show?�
�Fine.� We went back inside. Birk, Heart, and Dinah had rejoined the table by now, and were making faces as Tech shouted something to them over the music. Just as I took my seat, the lead singer of Renegade Nuns on Wheels (who I know now quite well, he�s Tim�s best friend, and we�ve been on vacation with him and Penelope, who he�s now dating, several times), announced that they were doing one last song.
�Fuck,� I said, settling down. Dinah tugged on my sleeve. �Not now,� I said, then leaned over her to shout to Tech, �Hey! KEEP IT DOWN DURING THIS SONG, OR I�LL FUCKING KILL YOU!� I must have looked extremely pissy, because he kept his mouth shut until Renegade Nuns on Wheels finished their last song. As they left the stage, I stood up, grabbed Tech by the arm, and dragged him to the parking lot.
�What do you want?� he asked.
�Look,� I said. �You�ve been a schmuck all night tonight, and everyone has been asking me to talk to you about it, so can you stop the immaturity and act your age?�
�What the fuck do you care?� Tech spat, turning to go back inside. He turned to call over his shoulder, �Leave me alone.�
�Whatever. I fucking give up,� I sighed, and shuffled back inside. Before I could get to the table, Penelope pulled me back to the food prep area.
�Have you talked to him?� She asked. She was the only one who knew about my crush on the Beast.
�Not really,� I said.
�Well, he�s two people away from performing, so don�t miss it.�
�Gotcha. Thanks, Pen.� I squeezed her hand and made my way back to the table. Heart, Dinah, Mason, and Tech were all sitting there in disgruntled silence. I sat down, enjoying the poet who was currently reading his work, but my enjoyment was short lived. Dinah tugged my sleeve and nodded in the direction of the bathrooms. I sighed and followed her out.
�What? Make it quick, I�ve barely seen a single act tonight,� I growled at her.
�How can you think about a bunch of stupid bohemians performing at a time like this when your friend is in so much pain?� She asked, indignant.
�What the hell are you talking about, Dinah?�
�Heart!� Dinah said. �Haven�t you noticed how upset she is that Birk has just totally thrown her off to hang out with Em? Do you know what they do when they go off together?�
�I imagine that�s their own business. Why can�t you just leave them alone?�
�Because it�s not right to leave your friends like that!�
�So you�re saying that if Keith A-�
�Shut up!�
�You�re saying that if some guy you like was dating you, you wouldn�t go off and be with him if there were other people around?�
�No I wouldn�t.�
�Liar.�
�You know, Gina,� Dinah said primly. �I don�t think that you�re being reasonable about this.�
�Yeah, that makes two of us,� I said. �Look, I want to see the show. I came here to see the fucking show. Now get out of my way and let me back into the black box.�
�God Gina,� she called over my shoulder. �You�re being a total bitch.�
By now I didn�t care what she thought of me. I had just checked my watch and realized there was only an hour left before 10 o�clock and the end of the show, and I still hadn�t seen an entire performance by anybody. I stormed out to the parking lot to get a breath of air and compose myself before I went back inside. I stood against the chain link fence, staring at Orion, the only constellation I knew at the time. It didn�t matter. I had a bit of an Artemis complex at the time.
I was about to go in to see the Beast�s set when Lilith approached me.
�Where have you been all night, man?� She asked. �You said after your shift we were gonna hang out, but I haven�t seen you for more than three minutes! You�ve been missing some great acts.�
�I�m really sorry Lilith,� I said. �It�s been a crazy night. What do you think that is?� I asked, pointing at a semicircle of seniors, members of Electric Pudding and other I-Club members, who were sitting in the middle of the parking lot, their attention fixed on a group of cars.
�Oh, do you think J� is there?� She asked. �He said he was going to come see Radio-One tonight.� Lilith had a thing for one of the upperclassmen fans of the band.
�Nope, haven�t seen him all night. We might as well go back inside.�
But no, we ended up talking about J� for about twenty minutes. Actually, she talked about J�; I tried to maneuver us back inside, to no avail. Finally, I burst out, �Lilith, I really gotta get back inside!�
Lilith stared at me. �Um, fine. Just go then. Jeez.�
I turned to flee, only run literally into the Beast again.
�Hey,� he said brightly. �Did you see my set?�
I look up at him, crestfallen. �It�s over?!�
�Yeah,� he said, a little glumly. �Didn�t you catch any of it?�
�Um, nooo,� I began. �But I really-�
�Hey, look, Gina, I gotta go find someone. Catch you later, ok?�
�Yeah. Ok . . .�
God what a night this was shaping up to be! I flopped down at the table, noticing that Tech had vacated the group, Heart and Dinah were now pointedly ignoring me, and Mason was biting his thumbnail, looking nervous. I leaned over and poked him.
�Hey, what�s up?� I asked.
�My mom just called my cell. She�s gonna be here to pick me and Em and Tech up in twenty minutes, but I can�t find Em anywhere! Do you know where she is?�
�Oh, I�m sure she�ll turn up in time.�
�No, that�s the thing. My mom was supposed to get here at 10, but she wants to pick us up at 9:40 now. Em could still be anywhere doing anything!�
I sighed. �So go look for her.�
�Did. Can�t find her.�
�Oh crap. Alright, stay right there, I�ll be right back.�
I slipped back to the food prep area, looking for Leigh. I found her sitting on her new girlfriend�s lap, looking vaguely smug about nothing in particular. I waiting a few moments for her to acknowledge me, and when she didn�t I cleared my throat loudly.
�Yes?� she said, arching one eyebrow the way I always wished I could. Yet another reason to hate her.
�Did you give Em your keys?�
�What�s it to you?�
�Her ride is coming soon.�
�It�s parked under the light across from the sculpture patio door.�
�Thanks.�
I hustled out to the parking lot for what I figured must be the millionth time that evening, scanning the area for Leigh�s car. Sure enough, it was parked where she said it would be. I went over to the vehicle apprehensively. It wasn�t particularly cold out, but the windows were mostly fogged over. I tapped tentatively on the back window, as I could see no one inside. A hand popped up, flicked me off, and went away. So I did, but as I shuffled back to the black box, I noticed that that semi-circle of seniors was staring at me. No, actually, as I followed their gaze, I realized they were staring at the car, which, I suddenly noticed, was rocking gently. I shook my head and returned to our table inside.
�Don�t worry,� I assured Mason. �She�s in Leigh�s car with Birk.�
�Well, when is she getting out?�
�Well, I don�t know Mason. I wasn�t in much of a position to ask her.�
�Well, go back and ask her.�
�No.�
�Why?�
�Why do you think, Mason?�
I sat there in silence, too weirded out by everything to enjoy the skinny boy playing the keyboard masterfully. My god, what the hell was wrong with my friends?
Ten minutes went by before Mason started fidgeting. Finally he turned to me.
�Oh God, Gina,� he said. �You�ve gotta get them out of there. My mom will freak, and then she�ll tell Em�s mom, and Em�s mom will tell Birk�s mom, and they won�t get to see each other, and it�ll be Em�s fault but she�ll blame me, and-�
�Oh, for the love of God, what do you want me to do, Mason?�
�Go get her.�
�YOU fucking get her. You know what Leigh�s car looks like.�
Mason slowly got up and went to the parking lot, but he was back almost as soon as he was gone.
�I knocked on the trunk. Nothing. Plus all those seniors were watching me.�
�They�re watching the car not you. And you gotta knock on the window. Hard.�
�You do it.�
�God.� I hauled myself to my feet and stormed out to the lot with Mason on my heels. He stopped just behind the semi-circle of seniors, but I went up to the car and rapped hard on the window. By now, it was totally fogged over. A hand suddenly hit the window back from inside, then disappeared, leaving a small window into the car. I knocked again, harder this time. Em�s head popped up.
�What?!� She mouthed at me.
�Mason�s mom is coming at 9:40. Be out by then,� I shouted. I then saw Birk sit up, glare at me, and pull Em back down. I shrugged and shuffled back to Mason.
�She�ll be out in time. Happy?�
�I fucking hope she is.�
We went back inside, where Tech had rejoined the table, and I ordered my last cocoa for the night, drinking it quickly. It was mostly cold, and I didn�t get to enjoy it because Mason was insisting that we should get them out of the car right now, his mom was gonna be there any minute. Finally, I slammed my cup down.
�Fine. Fucking fine.� I said loudly. Heart and Dinah looked up. �You�re coming with me.�
�Good, it�s 9:37.� We rose, Tech and Heart and Dinah following us. They lingered near the doorway of the black box as Mason and I tramped over to the car. The group of seniors were laughing at us by now, but I was too pissed at everyone to care. I slammed on the window with my fist.
�Get. Out. Now.� I growled. A hand raised up, indicating �one minute.�
�Fine, I�m waiting right here. Mason�s mom is gonna be here any minute.� After a moment, the door of the car opened, letting out a hot breath of sweaty-smelling steam into the night. Em stepped out, turning to offer Birk her hand in exiting. As they came into view of the seniors, the semi-circle rose, laughing and cheering to give Em a standing ovation. She laughed back, bowing genially. Mason blushed and I groaned.
�Alright, alright. Don�t forget Leigh�s keys. Jeez.�
We trooped back to the black box, as the seniors thronged around us cheering and whooping. The rent-a-cop appeared to see what all the yelling was about, too late for the show. At that moment, as we all stood in the black box door, Mason�s mom drove up.
�Oh good, you�re all here. Hurry up and get it, I want to get home before 11!� she said.
I didn�t get home before 11. Lilith�s car got stuck behind an accident on I-95, and I arrived home fifteen minutes late, and I was grounded for two weeks as a result. I�m not really sure why this is a fond memory for me. I didn�t get to see my favorite act, I missed out on seeing the boy I liked, I barely sat down all night, and Dinah and Heart and Birk wouldn�t talk to me for nearly two weeks afterwards. Furthermore, Birk and Em got off scott free, whereas I got grounded for being late due to circumstances beyond my control. A) I wasn�t driving and B)Lilith did not choose to get stuck behind an accident, and yet I was stuck at home for the next two weeks. Life�s a bitch, right? But Mason came to visit me recently, and he and I were tell this story to a friend of his, and I was laughing my ass off, loving reliving every minute of it. I guess it�s one of those things that�s only funny in retrospect.
Damn, I feel better now.
