“That’s ten whole years,” Janine drags out each syllable as she leans into me.
I sigh.
“She’s right, Erica.” Penny says. “And you are getting married next month, so we won’t have this chance again.”
“Fine.” I say. “Count me in.”
“We’ll pick you up Friday, so be ready.” Penny exclaims.
“And bring your dancing shoes.” Janine adds.
“You know I will.” I giggle.
As I slide my phone into my pocket, I open the door to my closet. Tucked among the boxes I packed in anticipation of my wedding, I locate one marked “old shoes”. I unfold the flaps and carefully select a slender black box. I peek at the red flats within the smaller box before reseating the lid and placing it on the bed. In a matter of minutes, I have a weekend bag filled with promises of my return to college glory.
~
“Erica!” My friends catcall from Penny’s convertible. “Get in here, girl, so we can part-ay!”
“Woowho!” I squeal, winking at my elderly neighbor as she gapes at me on her way into her house.
“Well, I never.” She quickens her pace and slams the door.
We laugh as the wind blows our hair out behind us.
~
“I can’t believe this place is still open.”
“I can’t believe it still has the same decor.” I add as I peer through the open door at the worn black and red linoleum leading up to round bar stools wrapped in red leather.
“So what are we going to sing?” I ask as I flip through the options offered for the brave patrons of Care-2-Okay karaoke bar.
“‘Rolling In the Deep’ was my favorite song that year.” Janine offers excitedly
“And none of us can sing like Adele.” I shudder at the thought.
“True, and Erica was pretty fond of ‘Dancing on My Own,’” Penny suggests.
“Only because John broke up with me to date my roommate, so it was safer to dance alone,” I mumble.
“I guess that leaves us with our anthem…” Janelle holds up the book and points.
“Always choose Pink.” Penny and I agree.
We nurse our drinks, trying to keep our throats capable of producing any semblance of harmony. Finally, our names are called.
“…and they will grace us with their rendition of ‘Raise Your Glass.’”
The bar erupts with commotion as people raise their glasses, some in both hands. We giggle and nervously take the stage, clutching each others hands nervously as we lean into he microphone and watch the screen. We start off shakily, but after the first verse, we either warm up or the piddly amount of liquor in our systems inspires courage and convinces us we don’t sound like wounded animals.
As if he has been summoned, my ex John walks through the door as we belt out, “Party crasher.”
I stop singing with my mouth wide open, but my friends address “panty snatcher” to John with great pride, both waving happily at him with their free hands as he glances toward the stage and realizes who we are. Their other hands hold mine more tightly, keeping me from fleeing the stage.
His face goes white before flushing brilliant scarlet, but he doesn’t turn toward the door. Instead he steps up the bar, ordering a straight vodka. He sips on it as we finish our song and step down from the stage to half-hearted applause. My loss of enthusiasm apparently spread to our audience. The next act brought their own following, so the cheering reaches new heights as they step onto the stage.
My friends steer me away from the bar. They are both offering what I assume are words of encouragement or sage advice since I can’t make out a single syllable. They don’t release my hands no matter how hard I try to shake them off. As the crowd closes in around us, they press their shoulders to mine and steer me toward the door. As we step out onto the street, I can finally hear them.
“Apparently, everyone wanted to celebrate ten years of real life by looking back at college.” Janelle says.
“Sorry.” Penny lets go of my hand to wrap me in a warm hug.
“Me, too.” John’s voice chases us out the door.
Penny growls. Janine mumbles something before rounding on him.
“You will be if you don’t back off.”
“Now now, Jan,” he holds up his hand.
“Never call me Jan,” she releases my hand to push him backward.
He steps away, but looks at me imploringly. “I just want to talk to Erica.”
“I don’t need to talk to you.” I tell him, squaring my shoulders as I finally free my other hand from Penny.
“But I…”
“…need to leave, so I can enjoy my weekend with my friends.”
“I heard you are getting married, and…” he begins.
“If anything besides, I wanted to say congratulations,’ comes out of you mouth…” Janine steps into his space again.
He glances at me and then back to her. He nods. “Of course, that is all I wanted to say.”
She steps back and he turns to go, but he mouths, “Call me.”
I shake my head, scowling at him.
“Janine, you are fierce,” Penny pats her on the back, “and, you, Erica, need to raise another glass.”
“You’re not wrong,” I reply.
With one more glance to make sure John’s back is still receding down the street, we step back into the bar to give our anthem another shot.
Graduations are happening in unprecedented ways these days, so why not write a story about looking back to the glory days prior to graduation? Hope you enjoyed this week's offering. Also want to send out congratulations to all the graduates from kindergarten up to PhD. May we all remain healthy and happy while we wait to see each other IRL again.
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