Chapter Four

I awoke to Sanders pounding on my door. “Caulfield!  Get your lazy ass out of bed!  We’re grilling out!”

“Okay, you fat fuck!  Give me a minute.”

I threw some clothes on and came downstairs to find everybody out in the yard. There were cups everywhere.

“Jesus, it looks like a tornado hit our back yard.”

I looked around. Aside from my roommates, my two neighbors, Dave and Liam, were present. So were the girls from across the street and Carrie and her boyfriend, Jimmy. It looked to be a pretty good crew.

“We’ve got some burgers and some brats over there, and Carrie brought some beans and potato salad,” Luke said from the grill. “Get a plate.”

“Hell yes!”  I loaded up a plate of food and went to go talk to Carrie and James.

“Hey, you!” she said.

“Hey, yourself,” I said. “James.”  We shook hands. “Sorry I missed you guys last night”

“Me too!  I heard you had a good night, though.”  She was positively beaming. Apparently she’d spoken to Jessica since last night.

“Yeah, I guess it went pretty well.”

“So you’re taking Jessica out tonight?  Oh, I’m so excited!”  She was almost squealing. “Where are you taking her?”

“I was thinking Del Taco. How does that sound?”

She deflated. “What?”

“Del Taco.” 

A look of confusion appeared on her face. Del Taco was a high-class establishment known for serving fast food tacos, priced under one dollar, until three a.m. 

“Tell me you aren’t serious.”

“Yep. Don’t tell her, though. I want it to be a surprise.”

She buried her face in her hands and then glared at me. “Escher, you are so stupid!  This is my friend we’re talking about!”

“What?  I think we’ll have a good time. Don’t tell her, though.”

She rolled her eyes. “Don’t worry. You’re going to have to explain that one to her yourself.”

—

I gave Jessica a call at four-thirty. She sounded a little surprised that I called.

“Hello?”

“Hey, it’s Escher. I’m just making sure that we’re still on for tonight.”

“Yeah, if you want.”

“Perfect. I’ll come get you in an hour. Wear sneakers.”

“Okay?”

“Just trust me. I’ll be there at five-thirty sharp.”

“Okay, see ya then.”

“Later, Gator.”

—

I knocked on Jessica’s door at five thirty-two. Five-thirty felt like too much of an appointment. She answered, wearing sneakers.

“So where are we going?” she asked.

“I can’t tell you,” I answered.

She grinned. “Would you have to kill me if you did?”

“Goodness, no. I won’t let it come to that. I’m just not going to tell you because I want it to be a surprise.”

“Are we going to the Hill?”

“You know, if you keep asking, you’re gonna ruin the surprise.”

“Sorry, Don Juan.”  We walked and talked for a while. We were headed toward the Hill. We turned right on Broadway and continued past the Goose, past Half Fast, crossed the street at Salvaggio’s and stopped.

“Here we are!”

“Where?”

“Here!”

“Del Taco?”

“Yup.”

“Seriously?”  Her face held the same look of disbelief that Carrie’s had.

“What?  It’s an upstanding establishment. Come on!”  I held the door for her as she silently walked in, clearly disappointed with herself for coming out with me. I led her up to the counter and greeted the cashier.

“Anything she wants. It’s on me.”

She shook her head as if to clear the shock. “Uh, I’ll just have two chicken tacos, I guess.”

“Excellent choice,” I said, cheerfully. “I’ll have two deluxe tacos and the Macho Nachos, and two drinks, please. Oh,” I turned to Jessica. “Do you want any sauce?  I recommend the Del Scorcho.”  She shook her head, but didn’t say anything. “You know,” I said as I looked back at the cashier. “We’ll take a few Del Scorcho sauces, just to be on the safe side.”

“Your total will be nine eighty-seven,” he informed me, as he handed over two cups. I gave him a ten-dollar bill and handed the cups to Jessica.

“Go on, get yourself a soda. And could you get me a Diet Coke, please?”

“Sure,” she mumbled. She filled the drinks and sat down at a table. She immediately pulled out her phone and started, I assumed, texting Carrie. I stayed at the counter to wait for our order. After a couple minutes, they brought our food up, and I grabbed it and walked over to the table.

“Okay, let’s go.”  She looked up from her phone in surprise.

“What?” she asked.

“Come on. You didn’t think we were going to eat here, did you?”  She clearly had thought that.

“Oh, no, I didn’t think that.”  She flashed a huge look of relief. “Where are we going?”

“That’s another surprise. Come on. We’ve still got time.”

“Uh, okay.”  She seemed to trust me more, now that the evening had a chance at not being a waste of time after all.

I led her back down Broadway and then left on University. We followed it until we got to the McClintock Trail. We hiked up the hill a ways and stopped at a spot with a few trees and rocks that overlooked the whole town.

“I thought we’d eat here,” I said. “It has a better view.”

She looked at me with a bemused smile. “The sneakers thing makes sense now.”

“Come on, I wasn’t actually going to wine and dine you at Del Taco. Also, I may or may not have stashed a bottle of champagne and two glasses in this bag behind this rock. Care for some?”

She laughed. “You’re such a dork!”

I shrugged. “I agree. Come on, let’s eat. I’m starving.”

We chatted as we munched on tacos and sipped champagne. The evening air was cool; the sun was just beginning to sink over the mountains behind us.

“So, Escher.”

“So.”

“Where are you from?”

I paused for a second to flick off a bit of tomato that I had spilled on myself. “I’m from North Carolina.”

“Wow. What brought you out here?”

“My parents, mostly.”

“Why?  Do they live out here or something?”

“No. They live in North Carolina.”  

She laughed. “Are they that bad?”

“Nah, they’re good people. It’s just, ya know, free spirit and all. This place seemed as good as any. I enrolled before I ever even came to the campus.”

“Wow. Weren’t you worried that you wouldn’t like it?”

“Oh, yeah. The first month or so, I thought I’d made a terrible mistake. I was a thousand miles away from any friends I had. I just remember meeting about a hundred people every day and forgetting their names as soon as they told them to me.”

“So how did you meet Carrie?”

“She lived below us. The floor below us was all girls, and I really didn’t meet any of them until I started cold kickin’ it with Luke. I’ve really never been good at making friends with girls, but Luke, on the other hand, can make anybody his friend. It’s incredible, really, but what about you?  Where are you from?”

“I’m from Fresno.”

“Idaho?”

“What? No!”

“I’m kidding. So you’re a Cali girl, then?  I should’ve known.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“You know, super laid-back, good-looking, art history major. That’s pretty much what we East-Coasters think all West-Coast girls are like.”

“Hmm. Well, they aren’t all like me. I’m awesome.”

“Touche. So how are you going to change the world with your art history degree?”

“Umm, I just want to travel. I want to go to Spain and France and Italy. They have a lot of art there. Maybe they need people that know the history behind it. Plus, I’ve always liked to draw, ever since I was a little girl.”

“Have you ever been to any of those countries?”

She laughed. “No, but I went to England when I was in high school.”

“Yeah?  How was that?”

“I loved it!  The people there were so nice!”

“I’ve heard. I really like the way the Brits talk.”

We stayed at the spot and talked until well after the sun went down. We talked about everything, from classes, to exes, to high school, and more. She was easy to talk to. 

 I’m not sure exactly when, but at some point I knew I had to disappear. I couldn’t see this girl again. 

After we hiked back down, we went to her place and had sex. Once she was asleep, I gathered my things and walked home, alone, in the dark.

Chapter Five

Sunday passed by uneventfully. Luke and I cooked our famous fettuccine Alfredo for the roommates, and we all sat around and watched the Discovery Channel. There was a special on about animals in the arctic. Jessica texted me three times; once during the polar bears and twice during the seals. I didn’t respond. Carrie texted me, and I didn’t answer her, either. Instead, I smoked a whole pack of cigarettes and finished half the vodka I had left. 

Jessica texted me twice on Monday and only once on Tuesday. I skipped class both days. I didn’t want to run into her on campus, where I would have to have to justify myself. It wouldn’t have made any difference, anyway; I figured that the truth was as bad as any explanation she might have imagined on her own. Carrie called me Tuesday night, but I didn’t answer. Instead, I lay in bed and listened to Lou Reed until I fell asleep.

My alarm woke me at seven on Wednesday. I wanted to turn it off and go back to sleep, but reason got the best of me. I couldn’t skip class forever. I took another cold shower, cursing the landlady, got dressed, and trudged off to class. I felt better. My three-day bender left me with a reinforced appreciation of sobriety and all that life had to offer. It was still warm, and the sun smiled upon me as I walked through campus. It felt good to be awake. It felt good to be going to class. 

I was only five minutes late to Calculus, and I paid attention and took notes the whole time. I actually enjoyed it. We studied power series, and, for the first time, it made sense. Wow, you idiot. Imagine if you did this all the time.

I even skipped Subway in favor of Programming. We discussed pointers. A pointer directs the computer to a specific memory location and is usually defined with an asterisk. No shit?  That’s pretty cool.

On Friday, I made it to Calculus on time,  homework completed neatly and ready to turn in. I sat in the middle of the room instead of up in the cheap seats. I was feeling better. Maybe I’d go to the gym after class. Maybe.

I walked out of Circuits at noon. The sun was high and shining bright. It was a beautiful day. I went up to the Hill to grab a slice at Abo’s before heading home. I ordered a pepperoni and a spicy ranch and grabbed a Diet Mountain Dew to drink. I spied a corner booth and took a seat. Yes sir, not a bad day at all. 

“What the fuck, Escher?” Jessica had just sat down across from me.

I looked up in surprise. Uh-oh. It appeared my day was about to get worse. I had to think of something to say, and I needed to do it quickly. Her eyes were piercing me, looking into my soul. Come on, man. Think!  Explain yourself in a clever way that will assuage her anger!

“Huh?”  I mumbled through a mouthful of pizza.

“What do you mean, ‘huh?’  You didn’t answer any of my texts, and you didn’t answer when Carrie called you!  It’s like you disappeared, and I don’t even get an explanation?”

“Uhh…”  I didn’t know what to say. The pizza was really hot. It was burning my mouth. I wasn’t going to be able to taste anything for the next two days!

“Everybody I talked to about you said you were an asshole. And you know what?  They were right!”  She looked at me expectantly. “Well?  Say something!”

“I think you should leave.”

She let out a yell and started slapping me from across the table. “Fuck you!  Fuck you!  Fuck you!”  Each “fuck” and “you” was punctuated with a smack intended for my face. I raised my arms to cover up, and once she realized that she wasn’t hitting her target, she grabbed my Diet Mountain Dew and dumped it over my head.

“Asshole!”  She furiously walked to the door and then turned and added, “And you know what else?  Your dick is short!”  Then she stormed out of the restaurant and left me covered in ice and diet soda. I looked around. Everybody else in the place was staring at me in silence. I grabbed the empty cup and walked up to the counter.

“Sorry about your dick, man,” said the cashier.

“Nah, it’s okay. Could I have a refill of Diet Mountain Dew, please?”

—

I drank when I got home. I started off with half a solo cup of straight vodka and then mixed my next cup half and half with Diet Coke. By the time the roommates and I headed to our friend Tommy’s, I was a third of a half-gallon deep. And I was out of cigarettes.

“Tomm-ay!”  I yelled as soon as we were in sight of his house. He was sitting out on his porch.

“Is that Escher?”

“You’re goddamn right it’s Escher!  What’s up motherfucker?”  I walked up to him and shook his hand.

“Hey, guys. Welcome, welcome. Keg’s out back, cups are in the cabinet above the sink, and the biddies are inside.”

We thanked him and went in. Tommy’s house was fun sometimes and not very much fun at other times. This looked to be one of his more upbeat gatherings. The music was going, a few people were dancing, and there were some nice-looking girls in attendance; of course, there were way more dudes, but, come on, this was Tommy’s house. You took what you could get.

I knew I was irresponsibly drunk even before I pulled my first beer from the keg, but I kept drinking anyway. 

My last actual memory of the night was standing on the back deck smoking a cigarette I had bummed from some guy who then offered me a pull of his Johnny Walker Red Label.