Free Table for Two by Marla Miniano

clubbing with us later! I miss her! It’s
been ages! We used to have so much fun in college!”
    “But you already invited Gio,
remember?” Mandy reminded her.
    “Yeah, but Yas isn’t in town, so
it won’t be weird!”
    “Oh, trust me, it will be.”
    Diane raised her hand to signal
the waiter, who had been eavesdropping the whole time. He came over, looking
thoroughly entertained. “Yes, Ma’am?”
    Diane jabbed her finger at Mandy’s
upper arm and told the waiter, “My best friend does not want me to have other
friends! Is that selfish or what?!” The old couple at the other side of the
restaurant turned to stare.
    “That’s not true,” Mandy muttered,
her cheeks burning.
    Diane shoved her phone in Mandy’s
face. “Call Penny, then! Tell her my car will be in front of her gate in ten
minutes!”
    “But we’re picking Gio up,” Mandy
said. “He needs a ride, his car is in the shop.”
    “So?!” Diane demanded. “What, you
don’t think they can be in the same car? They’re grown-ups, Mandy! We all are!”
    I’m
not so sure about that , Mandy
thought, but she took the phone and dialed Penny’s number anyway. Please don’t pick up,
please be unavailable, please don’t say yes, she prayed, but Penny was eager to go out with them and even more
eager to prove that she can be normal around Gio, never mind that a) after
their first date, he dodged her hints and held off commitment for two years, b)
he finally made things official three months ago but only managed to stay in
the relationship for six weeks, c) he was spotted with someone new—some
local celebrity whose career was going nowhere—the day after he broke up
with her, and d) she probably wasn’t ready to hang out with him and was probably
still at the stage where the only thing she wants to do is punch him in the
face or dye all his preppy white polo
shirts a scandalous shade of pink.
    On Mandy’s right, Gio is still
laughing; on her left, Penny is hissing, “Coffee! She needs coffee.”
    “No coffee!” Diane interrupts. “I
want to partayyy! Right now!” Mandy does not understand how she can possibly
hear anything above the blaring music. Also, she does not understand how
anyone, degree of intoxication notwithstanding, can pronounce party as partayyy.
    “Okay,” Mandy says. “Party it is.”
    2
     
     
     
    Tonight is going to
be a good night, or at least that’s what Lucas’s brother Franco would like him
to believe. He isn’t the slightest bit convinced, at least not while Franco
keeps blowing smoke in his face and checking out everything female within a
fifteen-meter radius. It is ten PM , and the bar is starting to fill up with college
students and twenty-somethings looking for great food, cheap drinks, and maybe
someone adequately attractive to hook up with. Lucas and Franco have been
sitting in a tiny corner booth since eight, and have already downed five beers
each. Lucas thinks— knows —he’s had enough and is actually willing to call
it a night regardless of how early it is. Franco wants to do tequila shots with
a college girl (a freshman, presumably) who just walked in with her friends.
“Come on, man,” Franco says. “I can’t go up to that chick alone. It’ll look
sleazy. I need backup.”
    “Oh, and it’s not sleazy to hit on
someone who is not only jailbait, but could be a whole decade younger than
you?” Lucas asks. Franco is twenty-seven, four and a half years older, and
Lucas often wonders if it’s wrong to wish his older brother would set a better
example than this. Lucas wonders if the problem is that he’s just not cool
enough to keep up; for instance, tonight, he was planning to hole up in his
room to finish writing a short story for a magazine, and Franco practically had
to drag him out of the house.
    “Lighten up,” Franco says. He is
always telling Lucas to lighten up, and Lucas does not understand exactly what
this means: does any form of debauchery count as lightening up, or is there