March Lady Friends

"Okay."

She said goodbye.

I did not go to the Boot that night, none of us would. We went to a restaurant and drank margaritas. Stories of the week behind flowed for hours. At 3 am we returned, for the most part, all still sentient humans.

I slept all morning Sunday and wrote on Socrates between laundry cycles later. I worked through that night, too lazy to assume a capitalist pace. Monday's two classes passed flawlessly. By noon, I was mired in the possibilities of the day. I considered my afternoon's options in the grass amidst the sunbathers, remaining there for several hours until near sundown. Then I left to seek the better viewing place a five minute climb away. Looking west, three young men passed me a joint on the roof .

At nine, I got a sandwich and a red bull at the café and left for Friar Tuck's with Tex. He had a red bull as well. We walked ten blocks. And only spent five minutes in dangerous neighborhoods. We spoke of our pot dealer's recent mugging. Only D.C., I said has a higher murder rate. Neither of us carried knives but we decided it was for the better. The bar that night featured cheap pitchers of beer and 80's music. I sent Adrian a message asking her to come where I was. Her plane arrived around eleven.

D. Juarez had painted a fresco on the bar's wall- A Mexican parade! We interpreted all the figures depicted. Elvis rode Cinderella's pumpkin carriage alongside several Abe Lincolns. Mainly in red and orange and green, it included several hundred individual people.

Adrian disrupted our search. She wore white-a sexy small strapped top. And tight jeans. She was sober. I said, "I am at a disadvantage."

She and I drank and discussed the break. We danced and the DJ played a swing song. Do you remember Jackrabbit Slim's, she asked. That was cool. We did the twist and spoke not.

"I need to get a drink and see my friends." she said four dances later.

She left and I watched the pool game. When I returned from the bar five minutes later and three dollars lighter with a full pitcher, I saw Adrian dancing across the floor. I observed the Pac-man Machine with a fresh beer. A friend, Tristo, came over drunk and asked, "Where's your lady friend?"

"Dancing with some random douche bag." I said.

He asked if I was chill. I said I am never not chill. We poured fresh beers and toasted to Pac-man. I smoked a Camel with Mindy, an Indian from Denver who loves Coke. Adrian returned and I turned from the table and looked at her. She said, "Sorry, I got stuck dancing with a creep who wants to rape me."

I said, "I'm sorry."

She asked if I was upset about her dancing. I smiled and said I didn't mind. But she was unconvinced. She said she couldn't do anything about it. I smiled and said I understood. She said I had dimples when I smiled.

"Really?" I asked.

"Yes." She said, "Is your smile fake?"

I smiled again and she was displeased. I told her I never knew that I had dimples and could make no remark on my smiles' authenticity. She was drunk and done smiling for the night. I was drunk and wanted nothing more than peace. We argued for some time in front of Pac-man. The argument continued once we left the bar. She cried and told me not to touch her several times. She said she was sorry she did not act like I wanted. I said she could do what she wanted, I just wanted to see her. She asked why then I only talked to her for nine minutes after a whole week. I laughed with no answer. A very drunk girl laid on a lawn two blocks from the bar.

"That's my friend" she said.

I helped her lug the girl, who spoke clearly and walked unsupported after a couple minutes. When we reached a street flanked by parking garages, she said she would take her friend home. I smiled and said okay. She said, "I can't handle your being upset about me."

I looped my fingers in her belt loops and pulled our hips together. "Listen." I said- "I'm sorry."

I told her to say "hey asshole don't call me" if I did so too much. She did not smile. I kissed her and she sucked my lip.

"Hey." I said and pulled her waist side to side, "I love you."

"Goodnight Adam. I'll call you soon."

She walked towards her friend who sat, legs dangling on a wall. And I continued straight on that street to my dorm, where I retired still wearing my belt.

I woke the next morning and decided I needed a few weeks of rehab. Or a bag of mushrooms- something to reconnect me to reality. Neither was available, so I got myself a beer.

At lunch I heard of a mixer that Thursday night. Fifty or so girls from the pink-uniformed sorority across the street were attending a black light party at my frat house. Among them, undoubtedly was Jane.

She was from a small Indiana town and we met my first semester in French class. She wore braces until October. Without them, she became my first female interest in New Orleans. I told her this one afternoon. She called me every night for a week. Although I borrowed friends' phones, we managed to meet each evening. One Friday, I checked into her room around one am. She was markedly more inebriated than I that night. We laid in her bed. She played U2 and the Cranberries' orgasm song. I stayed an hour. She appeared prayerful to me with her doe-eyed gaze. I left her with a kiss on the cheek. Since, we'd spoken little. But I still had her number.

On the menu at the mixer were gin and tonic and Jell-o shots. Twelve of us drank an entire handle of gin in ten minutes beforehand. We passed it around until it was empty. I definitely bogarted the bottle, but nobody seemed to mind. The girls came over all dressed in white. They were more drunk than we. And everyone wrote on each other with highlighters, which shined iridescent in the black light. Jane arrived an hour late. But girls poured in and out all night sporadically.

We danced for ten minutes. I drew a smiley face on her shoulder and she signed my chest. I said I missed seeing her and wanted to go out sometime. She said I stopped liking her before. I laughed and said I had not.

Of course she wanted to see me again, but she heard I did cocaine all the time. She was worried. I said, "I've done it once. It's not my style to be sky-high wired all the time."

I told her I prefer weed. She believed me and said she had to leave. I should come to S&G's as soon as I left she said. I said I would call her when I arrived. I drew smiley faces on her sisters for a couple more hours.

The house was empty after midnight. However, nearly fifty Jell-o shots remained. We finished them between three people. I then cajoled the drunkest brother there into driving to the club where Jane waited. Four people came on the fifteen minute trip. I alone did not have a fake I.D.; S&G's required every patron to be twenty-one. Thus, I pushed through the crowd at the door and melted into the melee.

I never look back at the door.

Bob Dylan's ode to Ruben Carter had just begun to play inside. I found Jane in the center, she stood in the hall between the two bars. We left before the ballad ended. She said she would pay for a cab back to school. She wore heels and had trouble walking to the curb. I told the driver where to go. She moved onto my lap and kissed me before the fare reached five dollars. My ride to the bar called me. I told him I was fine and had left with a friend. The conversation was unclear-I was committed elsewhere. I wondered why I abandoned this girl, I could have been the champion of the world.

Once we reached campus she saw she had no money. I gave the driver eleven dollars, rolled out and lifted Jane from the back seat. I asked where she would go. She suggested my building-it was much closer. In my room, my roommate slept. She laid on my bed tout de suite. I removed my belt and emptied my pockets on the television. Everything fell backwards, behind the tube. My wallet, the phone and keys clattered to the desk. The Tuxedo black condom I tossed there made no sound. This homosexual trinket had humiliated me earlier when it fell from my wallet in front of two somewhat prude girls I knew. I forgot it and laid down. I thought she might sleep but she coerced me under her skirt in minutes. I struggled to stay awake throughout the early morning. My roommate slept with difficulty in the lounge.

I woke naked at six am. I dressed in running shorts and lied looking at the ceiling for two hours. She wore nothing beside me therefore I knew I had not dreamt it all. She dressed airily and quickly when I woke her. She had class at 8:30 and was still drunk. We kissed goodbye for some long minutes. She left behind a lace tiara. When she departed, I showered and walked to my Philosophy of Justice class.

At one pm, she called me. Thank you for last night she said, "I don't remember anything." She hoped nothing too serious had happened. I told her I barely remembered but doubted so. We would talk later. I ate lunch outside in the sun.

I noticed Adrian called me the previous night and I phoned her on the stairs to my room. I told her I went to a mixer last night. And I was going to Biloxi at six. She asked what the fuck I would do in Mississippi for three days. Biloxi has beaches and casinos I said. She was upset but I responded, "I have no choice, I must go."

I told her she should call me during the weekend. I then gathered the clothing strewn all about the room. When I made my bed, I recalled the extent of the night's events. The intact Tuxedo winked up from the ground. I changed my sheets and laid down. I slept two hours and called Jane. I said we should talk about last night. She was around and said she would be by outside in a few minutes. We met on the sidewalk. My months-old suspicions were confirmed. I knew she was a virgin that Wednesday when she swooned at my news. She cried on the bench. I said I'm sorry. I kissed her hand and sent her to the clinic. I told her I would call from Biloxi.

I called Adrian and Jane from the beach every day that weekend. Jane never answered. Adrian was drunk each time we spoke, as was I. She thought I was in New Orleans when she called me on Saturday. I slept for forty-five minutes the entire weekend and lost my phone in the ocean.

Upon my return to school, I quit my frat. I blamed them for the circumstances leading to my rape of Jane. She never called me again but I saw her every day that semester.

One week after the black light party, I saw Adrian again. I planned never to tell her about fucking Jane. I felt she could be blamed, in leaving me standing alone in the street, for my annihilated hormonal stability. After a sunset smoke at Audubon Park, we returned reeking to Butler House. From my refrigerator, I took a fist-sized chocolate. Her eyes widened at its size. A purple ribbon bow tied around a small Easter bunny obscured the foil inside. She was my only catholic friend, I said- Happy Easter.

We watched a movie barefoot on my bed. Within an hour the chocolate was eaten. A sister summoned her five minutes from the end. I said she should stay. We watched a half-dumb Indian smother Jack Nicholson and escape for Canada. And she washed her hands before leaving.