Why does everyone always make such a huge deal about pronouns? It’s as if my whole life has to be dictated by those two or three letters. I wish pronouns had never been invented.
Derek hands me one of the water bottles. Probably Derek’s way of saying I’ve had enough to drink.
Screw that. Derek doesn’t get to tell me what to do. Nance is right—I’m not anyone’s charity case.
“I’m getting another drink.” I push off the wall. My legs are shaky, but I propel my way forward.
“You sure you’re okay?” Derek asks.
“I’m fine.”
Then we hear someone yell across the room. Barb, the bouncer, is towering over everyone on stiletto heels.
“Who are you to disrespect my friend?” Barb screams at a guy in a Red Sox cap. “She’s the prettiest girl who ever lived!”
“Leave it alone, Barb!” one of the bartenders yells.
“Yeah, well, maybe if she ate her weave she’d be pretty on the inside, too!” the guy in the cap shouts. It sounds to me like the guy is joking, and I start to laugh, but then Barb winds back and punches the guy in the face with a loud thud. A collective shout echoes across the bar.
“We should go,” Derek says.
I let Derek pull me to the door as more people start yelling. Behind us, Eli and Nance are pushing their way through. I can’t see where Andy, Pete and the other guys went. I’m still shaky, so I need Derek’s help, but I try not to let that be too obvious.
“DOES THIS ALWAYS HAPPEN?” I yell.
“PRETTY MUCH, YEAH.” Derek laughs as we make it out into the chilly open air. “It’s all part of the adventure.”
The rest of our group stumbles outside. Nance and Inez light cigarettes.
“Think we can get a cab?” Laura asks.
We try for a long time. It doesn’t help that everyone else who left the bar is trying to get cabs at the same time. We also aren’t in the best neighborhood. None of the services we call have cars anywhere near us. After twenty minutes I’m shivering from the cold, worried about my wallet getting stolen and completely sober.
Finally an empty cab pulls up. Nance and the other two girls pile into it first.
“I can only take one more, up front,” the cabdriver says in a thick, annoyed Boston accent, eyeing Derek, Eli and me.
“We can all fit,” Derek says. “See how skinny we are?”
“No way,” the driver says.
“We can fit one more back here, Derek,” Inez, a pretty brunette, calls from the back of the cab. “We can scootch in.”
“Toni, Eli, get in,” Derek says. “You’re skinnier than me.”
“No way,” I say. “You’re skinnier than I am.”
This is an obvious lie, but I’m still reeling from what Nance said. I don’t want anyone taking pity on me. I don’t want to have to squash into a cab with Nance, either.
“I can only fit one, kids,” the driver calls.
“If you guys are going to be indecisive, I’ve got a paper due tomorrow,” Eli says.
Derek and I nod. Eli climbs into the cab and it speeds off, leaving us alone in the cold with no cabs in sight.
Derek scans the empty street, then turns back to the bar. “It seems to have calmed down in there. Want to go back in? You look cold.”
“Yeah. Next time I’ll bring a bigger coat.”
“Don’t bother. You’ve got to get used to Massachusetts weather sooner or later.”
The place is only half-full now. There’s no sign of Pete and the rest of our group. Barb is at a cocktail table toasting champagne glasses with the guy in the Red Sox cap, so I guess all’s well.
Derek and I find an empty booth in the back. We each order Cokes. Derek insists. “Trust me. You’ll appreciate it tomorrow.”
“You don’t have to do that,” I say. “I can take care of myself.”
“I know, but you can also learn from my past mistakes.” Derek laughs.
I gaze down into my drink.
“Okay, fine,” Derek says. “Is this about what Nance said? Are you pissed?”
I shrug.
“You shouldn’t take her seriously. She’s prickly at first, but she’s a great friend once she gets to know you.”
I shrug again. I don’t want to talk about Nance. “Who were those other two girls who were here before? Laura and Inez?”
“They were both at the last UBA meeting. You don’t remember?”
“Oh, right. Laura was the one who gave the speech about making the sexual harassment policy queer inclusive. Wait, why are you grinning that way?”
Derek grins some more. “’Cause I always grin when I talk about Inez.”
“Ah.” Since Derek used to go out with Nance, I’d figured Derek wasn’t into feminine-looking girls like Inez. Live and learn, I guess.
Inez is cute enough. Nowhere near as pretty as Gretchen, though. Definitely not my type.
If I even have a type. It’s been so long, I can barely remember what it’s like to be attracted to someone who isn’t Gretchen.
Now I’m anxious again.
“Are you and Inez a thing?” I ask, to distract myself.
“No. At least, not yet.”
“Are you going to be a thing?”
“You say that as if it’s entirely up to me.”