Free Convenience and Compatibility by Emily Jones Page B

squeezes my
knee, his way I think, of telling me that this is okay. I like him
even more for it.
    Our food arrives and I’m feeling a little
better. I try to steer the conversation away from Dean and I. “So,
tell me about the engagement.” I look to Dean, “Sorry, I forgot to
tell you, Tara and Adam got engaged last night.”
    “Congratulations!” Dean looks genuinely happy
for them.
    Tara and Adam both say thank you, a little
too politely, more uptight than gracious. I’m hoping that Dean
doesn’t notice how guarded they are acting. My expectation that the
subject has been changed shatters with the next thing that comes
out of Adam’s mouth.
    “Why did you make Mallory walk home this
morning?” He is staring down Dean, like he is my overprotective
father and Dean has taking my virginity. I’m pissed – more than
pissed.
    “What the fuck Adam?” I feel Dean’s grip on
my knee, his way of telling me to calm down? Or is he pissed also?
“This isn’t your courtroom, and you’re not allowed to ask anymore
questions.”
    He shrugs his shoulders. “I’ll be on my best
behavior, I promise.”
    I smile at Adam, “Thank you.” He’s usually
not such an asshole; I don’t know what’s come over him tonight.
    “Now, tell me about the engagement.”
    This is Tara’s cue to talk and she drones on
and on. She monopolizes most of the conversation the rest of the
evening, bless her heart. I’m interested because I love her and
she’s my best friend but my mind wanders to Dean, and I feel bad
that he has to sit through this. Dinner together was definitely a
bad idea. My only consolation is that he may be enjoying touching
my leg, knowing that he will get some later. I look over at him and
drool a little at the way his slightly messy hair contrasts with
his preppy outfit.
    We leave the restaurant and hear the deep
base of music pounding from down the street. Tara and I look to
each other at the same time and I know we have both remembered the
dance club on the corner. We used to come to the place every
weekend one summer a couple of years ago. I raise my eyebrows at
her; going to the club and forgetting myself while dancing sounds
like fun. We both turn to the guys at the same time, asking
permission. For once they agree on something. I can tell that they
are not into it, but submit to our wishes. At least they finally
have something in common.
    We walk into the club and it’s hot and moist,
with sweaty men everywhere. It’s kind of gross and I remind myself
to touch as little as possible. The music is intoxicating and I
grab Tara to dance – hoping that the guys will join us.
    I lose myself in the music, forgetting Dean,
Adam, and the horrible dinner. After a couple of songs I look
around and only see Tara dancing next to me. I grab her and motion
to her my intentions of finding the guys and getting some water. We
walk around for a few minutes, not being able to locate them in the
crowd of people. The place has suddenly gotten packed and I’m more
than once touched by some clammy, sweaty man. Gross.
    Tara stops short and I nearly bump into her.
The look on her face tells me everything and I follow her gaze.
About twenty feet away Dean and Adam look deep in conversation;
polite, yet clearly fighting. I see Adam’s mouth say ‘fuck you’ and
I know Tara has as well as she rushes to his side, and pulls him
away by his arm. Dean looks over to where I am standing and gives
me a half smile. Shit. I should have never brought him here.
    Tara and Adam walk out of the club as Dean
and I walk towards each other. I link my arm in his and we follow,
out the front door and to the car. No one is saying anything and we
drive home in silence. Dean isn’t touching my leg, his usual MO,
and I’m scared that he’s upset with me. I wonder what Adam has said
to him, and my mind wanders while my stomach churns on the drive
home.
    The agonizing ride seems to last forever, but
we make it to the apartment. Adam and Tara exit the