City Boy by Jean Thompson Read Free Book Online Page B

friends usually operated, getting drunk enough to abdicate responsibility for anything they did. He wanted to keep a semblance of a clear head in her presence.
    “So you’re some kind of undergrad.”
    “That’s right.”
    “Jack.”
    “Right again.”
    “Well, let’s just have a good time tonight. Let’s forget there’s any such thing as intelligent conversation.”
    “Sounds fine to me.” As long as she let him stay, he’d agree to anything. Dex returned with her drink and she downed a good portion of it in short order. It had never occurred to Jack before that beautiful girls had the capacity to be unhappy.
    They stayed at the bar until nearly closing. Jack remained on the edges of their talk, which was mostly about people he didn’t know, history he had not been a part of, the inbred feuds common to graduate students. He kept his mouth shut, kept listening. He was beginning to form a new, or more shaded, impression of her. The part that was sharp edged, that was glib and argumentative, was also brittle, like a crust, something of a deliberate effort. In much the same way, she laughed and carried on with Dex and from time to time her gaze lifted to survey the room, as if inviting people to observe just how bright and carefree she was being.
    Every so often Chloe or Dex asked him a question or lobbed somejoke in Jack’s direction and he smiled and said something in return. He was trying to imagine how the night might end, just what configuration it might take, everything he was capable of imagining. He guessed they wouldn’t stay in the bar much longer. Dex was showing signs of wear. He laughed with a kind of whinny, and he kept rubbing his eyes. Chloe was increasingly silent. Cunning Jack kept smiling and doing his turnip routine. “Okay, I’ve had it,” Dex announced. “Shit faced.”
    “Shit Faced ‘R’ Us,” agreed Chloe.
    They straggled outside. It was always disorienting to find yourself on the sidewalk in the darkness, with the city coming at you from all different directions, and even Jack, who had been cautious about his drinking, took a moment to get his bearings. Chloe and Dex were giggling and holding hands as he led them to the car. There were some real advantages to being gay, he decided.
    “Where to?” Jack asked, once he was behind the wheel. As if he didn’t know exactly where Chloe lived. They gave him directions back to Evanston. Chloe was in the front seat but she kept turning around to talk to Dex. She both was and was not sitting next to him. If only Dex boy would get himself dropped off first.
    Praise the Lord. Dex said, “Take a left here and go down to the end of the block. See that light? That’s it. My man Jack. Chloe darlin’.” He made a couple of passes at opening the car door but couldn’t figure out how the handle worked.
    “Are you gonna be all right?” Chloe asked, concerned.
    “Tip-top.”
    “Because I could come in if you need me to.”
    Jack gritted his teeth and prayed a small, ugly prayer. Dex gave the door handle another whack and it popped open. “Le voilà.”
    “Good night, then.” Jack waited until Dex got himself out on the sidewalk, gave him the big wave, and sped off. “Why does he dress like that?” he ventured.
    “He thinks it’s funny.”
    “I guess it’s a grad student thing.”
    “I guess.”
    Without a third person in the car, she seemed to be receding from him. “Where am I going?” Jack asked after a space of silence.
    “Oh, sorry. Go down to Ridge, turn right, then straight for a while.”
    For all Jack knew, she’d already planned her exit strategy, had it all timed down to the second how she was going to escape him. He wasn’t going to push anything, he decided. Wasn’t even going to ask for her phone number. He knew the damned number, he was just going to wait a couple of days, then call. He was already practicing his own good-night speech, how he was glad to see her again, maybe something else about the class, or