Archives:
November 11-November 17, 2007
November 11, 2007
“You know, I've never actually had chicken wing pizza before,” I say as a waitress sets down a pizza at the end of the table.
She winks at me, a pretty brunette, real little. “Enjoy,” she says, before moving on.
“I mean, there's the combination of pizza and wings,” I go on, “but I've never synergized the two.”
“Synergized?” Dave asks, raising an eyebrow. “Getting a little heavy for me there, Presto.” He reaches out, scooping the pizza server beneath the first slice. “What do you say we just dig in?”
I nod, taking the server from him. “Sounds like a plan.”
The pizza's a little too hot on my first bite, but at the same time, really good. Luigi's is known for good pizza and good wings, though, so I suppose it makes sense.
“So what's new in the news?” Dave asks, picking up a fallen piece of chicken from his plate.
“You mean The Window?”
He nods.
“You're asking the wrong guy then,” I say. “There was all that website crap. Then SA tells us they're starting up a new newspaper. I decided it wasn't worth dealing with it all any more, so I resigned.”
“Fuck, dude. That sucks.”
“Yeah.” I take a bite, chewing slowly. “But it's all right. I was due for a break from The Window anyway—even if this isn't the way I wanted to take it.”
“I hear that,” Dave says, jamming the crust of his pizza into his mouth, then mopping off his lips with a napkin. “Of course, I was hoping I could count on The Window for a little coverage for the band. You know, we're starting to line up a decent number of dates for next semester, out of town.”
“Is that right?”
“Mostly just weekend trips. But it'll be cool. We're going to get our name out there to the college crowd all over.”
“Well that's awesome, man.” There's a stupid, bitter part of me that actually feels a little jealous to hear about Dave's project taking off like this, that he's got so much to look forward to. I shake it off. “You know, if you're looking for some press, I still know everyone at The Window. I left on decent terms and all, so I could put in a word for you.”
Dave nods, sipping soda through a straw. “I'd appreciate that.”November 12, 2007
“So, what's this I hear about you quitting The Window?” Nick asks, sitting beside me as we wait for class to start.
“It's true,” I say, looking down, allowing a pen to seesaw back and forth over my index finger. Nick was probably as much of a part of starting the new paper as anyone. A part of me wants to give him a piece of my mind about the whole thing, but I know even that's not worth it. It won't accomplish anything, and will just make things more awkward when we're in class.
Nick goes on talking as my eyes drift to the side. Emma comes into the classroom, looks at me, then steps out for a second. I look around, trying to spot if there was some reason for her to leave.
“But Teri knocks over the soda while he's at the whiteboard, and it soaks all of his notes,” Nick goes on with his story. I really only start paying attention again when I hear Teri's name. He laughs. “I can't believe she didn't tell you about this.”
“Yeah, we haven't talked much the last couple days.”
Emma comes back into the room, taking her seat next to me. “Claire hasn't been in, has she?”
“Na, not yet,” I say. Behind her, Jones comes into the room. His hair looks a little out of place, and he looks really tired.
Emma shakes her head. “We always walk to class together, but she was already gone when I got to her place today. And she didn't show up for rehearsal last night.”
“You think she's OK?” I ask.
“I don't know. It's just not like her to miss stuff like this.”
“You know, she hasn't been online the last couple days either,” Nick chimes in. We both turn to him. “Maybe we should talk to Campus Safety. I mean, if she's missing, we shouldn't wait to get them involved.”
“Well I don't know that she's missing,” Emma says. “She could just be sick, or busy with something I don't know about.”
“That, and I think you're supposed to wait 24 hours before you report someone missing,” I say.
Nick raises his eyebrows, sitting back in his chair. “I don't know. You can't be too careful.”November 13, 2007
Walking into the library, I see Teri and Nick standing just inside. She's leaning against a wall while he leans a hand against it, sort of standing over her. They both laugh about something, but when Teri sees me, she stops. “Hey, Preston ,” she says, letting out another little giggle, while Nick smiles.
“Hey,” I say, adjust my bag over my shoulder. “What's so funny, guys?”
“Ah, just an SA thing,” Nick says, letting out another chuckle, leading Teri to giggle a little once again. “All right, well I've gotta go, I'll catch you guys later.”
“So it sounds like you two are getting pretty chummy.”
She rolls her eyes. “We work together. We're friends. I don't see why you have a problem with him.
I shake my head. “He's just rubs me the wrong way. He's sort of the prototypical SA douchebag.”
“ Preston , he's a nice guy. And if he wasn't with SA, I'm sure you wouldn't have any problem with him at all.”
“It's not just SA—I have class with the guy too. And from what I hear he's, like, cyberstalking Emma's friend Claire. He's always IMing her and stuff, and she doesn't even know how he got her screen—”
“So you don't like him because he's flirting with your ex-girlfriend's friend?” Teri asks, raising an eyebrow.
“I don't like him because he's doing so in a creepy way.” I sigh, looking past Teri, into the library. It's looking pretty full. “Look, there's no reason to fight about him. Let's just grab a table and study all right?”
Teri opens her mouth as though she wants to say something more, but closes it before the words can come out. She turns and leads the way out of the lobby.
November 14, 2007
“All right, it's mid-November,” Jones says, clapping his hands together as he plops back down in his chair in class. “That means it's the time of year when I'm getting tired of teaching you all. And that means it's time for you all to do some of the teaching.”
A collective groan comes from the class, and Jones lifts a hand to silence it. “I know, I know, the world is such a cruel place. But at least hear me out before you start contemplating taking an incomplete for the class,” he goes on. “What I'm going to have you do is work in groups of four, and you will each be leading a discussion on a section of The Hunger . These discussions should be grounded in a literary analysis of the text.”
“Are the groups going to be assigned?” one guy asks, leaning half out of his chair.
“I think we're all old enough to pick our own partners,” Jones says. “So get your groups together now, and I'll let you know your section.”
I look to Emma who swings her head back and forth between me and Claire.
“Perfect,” Nick says, and I turn to him, already biting my tongue. “Four group members, the four of us—the four amigos.”
“I think it's actually three amigos,” Claire says.
“The more the merrier, though, right?” Nick asks.
“Please note that there are 28 people in this class,” Jones calls out. “Every group should have exactly four members.”
I look to either side of me, and it seems as though every group has taken shape. There's one other group short someone—there must be someone missing from class today. It occurs to me it would be pretty cruel to try to send Nick over to them, and take our chances on the person who isn't there.
I look to Emma, then back at Nick. “Well, I guess we have our four.”November 15, 2007
“Why do you keep doing that?” Cameron asks, as I step foot in our room.
I look down and around me. “Doing what?”
“You keep creeping in the door the last few days, like you're afraid to come in,” she says, not taking her eyes off her sketchbook. She has a photograph paper clipped to the side of it, and I imagine she's drawing from it.
“Well, to be honest, the last time I just walked right in, I saw, you know, a little more than I was counting on.”
“You're talking about me painting Geoff.”
“You painting Geoff—” I trail off.
“Nude,” she says with a nod. “Sorry, probably should have figured that. I just don't give that sort of stuff a second thought.”
“So you're saying if I had Teri here nude, it wouldn't bother you a bit?”
She shrugs. “I wouldn't want to be around if you were doing it—that's more of a private thing. But if she was just hanging out, I don't see the big deal.”
“Really?” I ask, setting down my bag, and walking over to my little fridge.
“It's just a body,” she says, her eyes flitting from me, back to her sketch. “Maybe I'm just used to drawing it all. But whatever. I mean, you saw my chest that first night we met—it's not like it made things weird for us.”
“I think the fact that you were a girl was enough to make things weird. The way we met was just icing on the cake.”
She nods. “OK. So from here on out, we'll minimize the nudity. Maybe I'll leave something on the doorknob or something if you shouldn't walk in.”
“That could work,” I say, cracking open a can of Mountain Dew.
“How about a pair of underwear?”
I cough, spitting a little soda out.
Cameron looks back up at me. “All right, I'll use a scrunchie or something instead.” She grins. “You oughta relax, Preston .”November 16, 2007
I squint my eyes, moving my forearm backward and forward as I line up my shot. At last, I let the ping pong ball fly from my fingers. It connects with the back rim of the red Solo cup, before bouncing in.
“That's what I'm talking about!” Chang cries standing next to me as he raises his hand. I slap him five as Rich drinks his team's last cup from our game of beer pong. “All right,” Chang goes on. “That's two straight. Who wants a piece of the champs next?”
“Not me,” I say, as the next pair steps up to the table. “Sorry man, but I gotta sit out a game.”
“That's fine,” Teri says, a hand on my back. “Let me take the lightweight's place.”
“Lightweight, huh?” I ask.
She smiles and messes up my hair with her hand, as I step back. I had had second thoughts about coming to this party tonight, here at the house Gabby shares with four of her friends. I haven't really talked to Gabby since I quit The Window. I don't regret the decision I made, but I do feel bad about the position it left her in, heading up a group she hadn't intended on leading, and that was already three-quarters dead by that point.
“You're not a bad shot,” Gabby says, stepping up next to me as Chang begins to pour the beer for the next game, and Teri lines up the cups.
“Well, I've had some time to practice as of late.”
“I guess,” Gabby nods.
I scratch the back of my head, taking another step away from the game and leaning against a wall.
Gabby follows after me. “So I wanted to tell you that you were right,” she says.
“I was right about what?”
“About SA and The Window—about them trying to replace us.”
“You came to that realization too, huh?”
“They came to me—the students who are starting up the paper. They said since I was the last leader of The Window, I was the natural choice to head up the new paper, and offered me editor in chief.”
“Is that right?”
She shakes her head. “It's just so insulting. They act like The Window's not even there anymore.”
“And once this new paper takes off, it had might as well not be there.”
“Yeah.” Gabby looks down. “And that's the thing of it. I mean, I could really use that credential—leading the paper. And if they are going to be the paper—do you think it would be horrible if I took the job?”
I look away, watching as Teri fires her first shot of the new game, a miss off of one of the middle cups. Chang takes his time lining up his own shot, then calls for the other team to straighten out their cups.
I can't help smiling. It's a little sad to think of Gabby leaving The Window as well—for all meaningful purposes, really ending the paper completely. On the other hand, I'm happy for her—that she got the offer to lead the new group, and that she has the sense to want to and the loyalty to question it.
I put an arm over her shoulders, my head feeling loose from all of the beer I drank over the last two games. “Gabby, I don't think you could be horrible if you tried.” I pat her back. “And I think you'll make one hell of an editor.”November 17, 2007
“Is this Foo Fighters?” Emma asks, leaning against the bar next to me at the Hammerhead.
In front of us, Dave screams his lyrics in rapid succession, in a song about the number of people killed in the Iraqi War I remember him working on in the suite last year. Sweat drips from his forehead, and his neck looks as though it will pop with each word.
“Na, it's actually an original,” I say, rubbing my hand over the outside of the glass of my Coors Light.
“Really?” she asks. “It's pretty good.”
I was happy to run into Emma here, and to find her alone. I suppose it shouldn't have been a surprise, with her seeing Bud and all. I was glad to spot a familiar face at all, I suppose, after Teri told me she was having a girls night out with Phoebe and Amelia, and Chang and Brad went away for the night.
I peer over the stage where a giant plastic shark protrudes from the wall, out into the space above the crowd. It's a new addition to the bar since last year, alongside the spattering of new pint glasses, with hammerhead sharks pictured on the sides. I think these things are meant as steps toward making the place a little less shady. They would probably seem more meaningful if they started checking IDs at the door, but then, I'm not one to complain about that.
Dave raises his hand after hammering the last chord of the song, letting his guitar sound alone at the end of the song. The crowd begins to applaud and he cracks a smile. “All right,” he says, “we're going to take a twenty minute beer break. Stick around.”
The guys head off stage, and walk toward Dave to congratulate him on the set. I stop as Emma stops though, greeting Bud. He brushes some of her red hair from her face, leaving a hand at the side of her head as he stoops to kiss her.
Something about it makes my stomach turn—I guess the way any guy hates to see his ex making out with anyone, anytime. I make myself turn away, slapping Dave five as we meet.