“Boys suck.” She held her bottle closer to me.
I took it and instead of refilling my glass, drank directly from the bottle.
“Very rock star of you, Q.” Selah lifted her bottle and did the same thing. “I’d clink with you, but I’m trapped in this godforsaken chair and can’t reach you.”
She resembled a turtle on its back, legs wide open and her feet several inches from the ground.
“Shift yourself forward before you flash everyone.” Maggie pulled on Selah’s boot, dragging her lower to the ground.
“Nothing most of these people haven’t seen before. If they’ve made it through college without seeing a vagina, then I don’t even know what to say.” Selah took another swig of wine.
“I’ve never seen your Bea Arthur, Selah. Can we keep it that way?” I covered my eyes with my hand. The whole truth was I’d seen more than enough accidentally last summer. Long story and I didn’t want to relive it. Ever again.
She choked and spit out wine in a beautiful arc of spray. “My what?”
“Bea Arthur. That’s what I imagine is down there. Maybe wearing a long sweater coat.”
“What?” Lizzy stared at me.
“My mother called her,” I gestured to my crotch, “lady business Maude. I always assumed she really meant the actress who played Maude, and I started calling them Bea Arthur.”
Selah’s head fell back as she cackled and kicked her feet, threatening us with a full view. Again. Such a lady. “That’s the best thing I’ve ever heard. Who names their body parts? It’s not like they have their own personalities or minds.”
“Speak for yourself. Men have named their penises for millennium. And they do often have a mind of their own.”
Lizzy blinked at me in doubt.
“I’m serious. Every guy in here probably has a name for his dick and an embarrassing story about some time or other when he got an erection at exactly the wrong moment. Ask them. Ask every single guy, then tell me the penis is just another body part. I’ve never been embarrassed by my shins or elbow going rogue.”
“You have very nice calves.” Maggie complimented me. “I’d kill for those shapely muscles.”
“Why thank you, Magpie.” The wine began to work its way through my body, giving me a warm, relaxed feeling.
“Speaking of names, if I’m going to start my all-girl punk band, we need a name. Something which screams girl power and badass.”
“Sandra Day O’Connor?” Lizzy suggested.
“Not bad. Not bad. Hit me with more.” Selah drank from her bottle.
“Bikini Razor?” Maggie frowned at her own suggestion. “Sounds sexy, but dangerous.”
“Something with dolls in it.” Lizzy twisted her mouth in thought. “Scary dolls or something.”
“Aren’t all dolls scary?” Selah snorted. “Dolls have been done.”
“I know!” I set down my bottle and clapped my hands.
Three sets of eyes stared at me. “Maude!”
The gallery had emptied out while we talked about ridiculous things and laughed ourselves silly. I realized I’d forgotten about Warren completely. I gave the doors one last glare.
My mind went to all the horrible things that could have happened to keep him away. Car accident. Mugging. Kidnapped by Big Foot. Poking his eye out with a hot blow-pipe. Losing his hand and having to get a hook.
Okay, maybe some of them were revenge for standing me up tonight.
“Shall we adjourn to Lucky’s?” Selah caught my attention and redirected my focus from the doors. “Toast to our amazing awesome selves?”
“Who says awesome anymore?” Lizzy wrinkled her nose. “It’s so valley girl, circa ’85.”
“Totally.” Maggie stuck her tongue out. “Let’s go.”
Selah held up her hands for me to lift her. When upright, she leaned close and whispered, “We’ll toast to all the assholes we’ve loved over the years.”
I choked on the last of the wine in my bottle.
“I mean figuratively, not literally. Of course.” She kissed my cheek, tucking her arm under mine.
“Enjoy the Silence” ~ Depeche Mode
“SORRY I COULDN’T make your opening tonight. I’m sure it was amazing and you sold everything. I really wanted to come, planned to come, but I couldn’t. I got there and saw all the people.”
Warren had been there.
“I couldn’t go inside. I stood outside and saw everyone surrounding you . . .”
He paused for long enough on the message I checked to see if the machine still played.
“ . . . I guess I’m not really ready to be someone’s date for something big. You know. Like a boyfriend. I mean . . .”
Another long pause.
“ . . . I really like hanging out with you and doing stuff. That’s been fun. A lot of fun. You’re really cool.”
I hit pause.
If he wanted to break up with me, doing it on the answering machine I shared with a house of people had to be the lowest. He’d picked me up. He came on strong, made all the moves. When he needed to step up and support me, he bailed. Not cool.
I erased the rest of his message.
“All Apologies” ~ Nirvana
I WOULDN’T SAY I was heartbroken over Warren, but my crushing disappointment stung. To get over him, I needed a change of scenery and a great diversion.
“We should go to Graceland after graduation. Make it the ultimate road trip. Follow Route 66 and get our kicks,” I suggested to the group as we all sat in our booth at Lucky’s.
“I’ll go if we all go,” Gil said.
“We can’t.”
“I’m sorry . . . what is this can’t you speak of, Josephine?”
“Ben’s going to Harvard and I’m going to Boston College.” Once Jo had a plan, nothing deviated. Sure, they’d sweated applications and waiting like anyone else, but I knew deep down Jo had made up her mind. If she said he was going to Harvard and she would study law, then that’s what would happen.
Jo’s superpower was determination. When I first met Ben, he could have been playing any of the spoiled boys in a John Hughes movie. Under Jo’s influence, he’d turned out okay. Still cocky and too uptight for me, but he’d been pretty cool about not being a jerk about Warren. Jo even offered to play matchmaker with some guy named Kyle.
I pushed forward with my argument. “Unless they do things completely differently in Boston, then your excuse is invalid because classes wouldn’t start for months.”
“We need to find a place to live and drive all our stuff back there.”
“Boston is on the other side of Tennessee. You can keep driving north from Memphis. In fact, you can drop Lizzy and I off in New York on your way. Next.” I wouldn’t accept their lame excuse.
“I can’t.” Maggie picked at her napkin, shredding it into confetti.
“And why not, Magpie? You love fat Elvis as much as I do. We could finally eat those bacon, banana, and peanut butter sandwiches we’ve dreamed about for years.”
The confetti got shredded into paper glitter. “I’m leaving for France right after graduation.”
Silence fell around the table.
Lizzy spoke what we all were thinking. “Then I guess the affair with Julien wasn’t a case of too much cheap wine and cheese addling your brain.”
Maggie shook her head. “He’s asked me to move over there. With him.”
“I’d hope with him,” Selah scoffed. “Asking you to move to the other side of the planet from your family and friends better mean a serious commitment.”
Selah wasn’t a fan of the Frenchman, whom she referred to as the French Incident in front of everyone but Maggie. Lizzy continued to call him Le Fromage, but from the face she often made when saying the word, she thought he was one very stinky cheese.
“If we don’t take one last epic road trip together, at least we can have a party. The last hurrah before we’re ejected from the womb of college.”
Ben and Gil gagged on my words.
“Womb? Really?” Gil set down his beer.
“The cold, harsh world awaits. No more seeing each other daily or hourly. It could be years before we’re all together again, you know. I’m merely pointing out the truth.”
“Have you heard of Prozac?” Selah raised her hands like a television preacher channeling the good stuff. “Because maybe you need a little happy pill pick-me-up to combat your premature mid-life crisis.”
“It’s the truth,” I mumbled.
“Then let’s have this party. Maybe it’ll cheer you up.” Selah poked my shoulder.
“It will. Last time we had a huge party, Maggie and Gil—” Maggie covered Lizzy’s mouth to shut her up.
“They what? Go on . . .”
I let it drop when Maggie shot me a death look and Gil frowned.
“I say we have a big bonfire.” The thought of burning things did make me feel better.
“What are you going to burn?” Ben asked.
“First thing, the damn chore wheel Jo made. Cursed thing has been an albatross, a dodo bird, and the stone to my Sisyphus for far too long.”
Jo gasped. “It’s served a very important purpose!”
“What?” I asked.
“Separating men from the apes?” Ben joked.
“Dirty, dirty apes.” Jo kissed his cheek. I sensed a really disturbing role play thing between them, but even I didn’t want to know.
“Okay.” Gil leaned back and pushed his glass away. “Tell me when to show up and I’ll be there. If you want us to play, I’ll call the guys.” He stood up and grabbed his jacket from the rack near the door.
Lizzy and Jo pulled out their day-planners and started discussing dates, making plans for the party. Jo looked up and smiled. “I can invite Kyle. He’s cute and definitely on your team.”
Kyle would be a nice addition. Out with the old, in with the new.
“Don’t forget to add lighter fluid for the chore wheel. It’s going to burn like a ring of fire.” I tapped the table in front of them and began singing Johnny Cash.
It could have been the indelible markers Jo used, or the copious amounts of lighter fluid, but the chore wheel burned in a rainbow hue of satisfaction. I tossed paper plates like frisbees into the fiery pyre. The wheel wasn’t the only thing I burned. I threw Warren’s number in the flames, too. I had it memorized, but I focused on the symbology.
We all watched the quick lifecycle of burning paper and cardboard. The sense of fulfilling a long term goal faded. I felt less smug than I’d hoped. The rest of the party guests had trickled away ages ago, leaving the seven of us around a dwindling bonfire.
Selah raised her cup. “To the end of an era.”
The others toasted her. Ben poured a little of his booze onto the ground for the homies a la Ice Cube’s song.
“A few more weeks and this will all be a memory.” Lizzy sighed.
“Where did the past four years go?” Jo snuggled into Ben’s side.
Gil strummed a sad procession of notes in a minor key on his bass.
Maggie wrapped a blanket around her and Selah on the picnic bench. “Next time we see each other will probably be Ben and Jo’s wedding.”
“Or yours.” Lizzy attempted to look happy about Franco-American nuptials.
Gil’s finger slipped and hit a wrong note.
“I hope we see each other on a more regular basis than weddings and funerals. That’s depressing.” Selah pulled out her cigarettes, lit one, and then handed them to Maggie.
“At least some things never change.” Maggie held up the pack and pointed out the man with the erection hidden in the camel.
Even Gil cracked a smile over the old joke from freshman year.
Unlike the rest of my life, I knew one thing for certain.
When I grew up, I wanted to still be friends with these people.
More than friends.
We were family.
“Advice for the Young at Heart” ~ Tears for Fears
Lizzy
THE CREDITS RUN at the end of Owen’s documentary and the theater lights brighten. Applause incites a round of awkward bowing from Owen, who invites everyone to the after party. We sit in our row as others around us get up and file out to the lobby. I have chills, but it could be the overzealous air conditioning in the old theater.
“Wow.” Gil breaks our stunned silence.
“Were we ever that young and stupid?” Selah removes her boots from the seat in front of her and sits up.
“Did I really say those things? Sheesh, could I have been more of a Pollyanna Sunshine?” Maggie rolls her eyes.
“No, you really couldn’t have.” Quinn tosses a piece of leftover popcorn at her. “I forgot about your schoolmarm outfit.”
“I think it’s sweet.” Jo gazes at Ben.
“I agree.” Ben holds her hand.
“You would.” I lean forward next to Ben to make eye contact with Jo on his other side. “You two were the happily ever after of the whole film.”
“Unlike me, who according to this masterpiece of cinéma vérité, am a sexless virgin.” Quinn gives me a devilish grin.
“The entire thing is a work of creative fiction, not historical fact.” Gil brushes popcorn off his jeans and stands.
“Says the history major.” Quinn tosses another kernel at him, which Gil catches in his mouth.
“How do you even have popcorn left in your bucket?” Selah pulls it closer to herself.
He yanks the tub away, scattering more popcorn. “Let’s go to the after party. Maybe convince Owen to make a director’s cut with all the footage from the editing room floor.”
Everyone else groans, then starts complaining about finals and being busy.
“No, nuh-uh,” I protest. “First, there will be free drinks. What college students turn down free anything? Second, this is it. Next week is graduation and the end. Finito. We go our separate ways.”
“Doesn’t mean we won’t all still be friends. Half of you will be within a few hours of New York or in the city.” Gil sweeps his arm in front of the group.
Maggie sighs. “Not me. I’ll be an ocean away. An ocean and a continent from home.”
“Living in France, mind you. The suffering will be unbearable, I’m sure.” Quinn finally gets up and popcorn rains down on the floor.
“We have our whole lives ahead of us. We need to rally ourselves out of this funk.”
“After grad school for most of us.” Gil’s tone holds no excitement despite getting into the program of his choice.
“Grad school will be different.” Ben smiles at Jo. Quinn and I have a bet they’ll become a Mr. and Mrs. as soon as he becomes a MBA
“You’ll all make new friends and forget about me.” Maggie seems on the verge of tears.
Quinn squints at her. “Hello, crazy French lady in the raspberry beret, you look vaguely like someone I used to know.”
“It’s not funny, Q.” Maggie walks to the end of the aisle.
“We won’t forget you, Maggie May.”
Maggie’s step falters at Gil’s use of her old nickname, something he hasn’t used since two summers ago. He shrugs and his mouth forms a half-smile. For a brief moment, they stare at each other in silence. We hold our collective breath, waiting to see what happens next. A small, sad smile flashes briefly on her lips before she composes herself again.
Quinn flaps his arms around like he’s trying to calm a group of toddlers. “Everyone settle down. We’re going to stay friends. We’re like geoducks. Forever in the same holes. Or a hundred years. Whichever comes first.”
“I don’t want to be a penis clam.” I frown.
“You’re stuck with me. I’m like gay glue.” Quinn pulls me up out of my seat.
A guy with a broom and dustpan walks down the left aisle. “There isn’t a second showing. You need to leave.”
“Charming,” Selah mumbles.
We shuffle out of the row and up the aisle.
“If you’re the gay glue of this f
riendship, what am I?” Selah asks.
“The heart. You act like it’s a cold, black, shriveled thing, but you probably have the biggest heart of all of us.”
“Do me next!” Maggie strolls backward in front of him.
“The memory. If not for you, we probably wouldn’t have all met.”
“And Gil?” Selah stomps past me, heading for the exit.
“The brain.”
“Isn’t memory part of the brain?” I ask.
“Exactly my point.” Quinn looks smug.
“And Ben and Jo?”
“They’re the body, strength and stamina.”
“I do love your stamina,” Jo whispers loudly to Ben. The rest of us grumble, all too familiar with their stamina after living together.
“And me?”
“You’re the soul, sweet Lizzy.”
“Perfect.”
We arrive in the bright lobby, glance around the crowd, and meet each others’ eyes.
“Free booze or not, I vote we go back to Lucky’s.” Ben stares at us expectantly.
“Their pitchers are practically free.” Quinn meanders in the direction of the glass entrance.
We follow him, exiting the open doors together with arms interlinked or thrown over shoulders.
Doesn’t matter what the future holds for us.
For now we’re here.
In the moment.
Together.
Hope you have an AWESOME year in Paris.
I'll miss you.
Gil
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I HOPE YOU enjoyed We Were Here. If you’re curious to find out what happens to these characters in the future, please read Geoducks Are for Lovers. Spoiler alert: Geoducks is a second chance love story.
Evergreen State College, and Speedy the geoduck, aka the best college mascot ever, were inspiration for my characters’ alma mater in Geoducks Are for Lovers. In We Were Here, my characters attend a fictional version of Evergreen. If you’re a Greener, you probably recognize some things and could point out dozens of details I got wrong. When I sat down to write We Were Here, I deliberately fictionalized some aspects of Evergreen and Olympia to fit these characters and their stories. I hope the spirit of the real Evergreen shines through in these stories. Omnia Extares!
We Were Here: A New Adult Romance Prequel to Geoducks Are for Lovers (Modern Love Stories Book 1) Page 27