Page 41 of Mud, Love, and Chemistry

As I come to a bus stop, I take a minute to stretch, and another message comes through. This time it’s Lisa asking if I want to join her, Jackie, and Hannah for dinner at When in Rome, our favorite pizza place.

Pizza isn’t exactly the healthiest thing to eat after such an epic run, but fuck it. I’m starving now that I think about it, and a slice of pizza?okay, maybe four slices?and a beer sounds amazing. I text her that I’m heading home, but need a shower first.

When I walk in the door, I find my roommates sprawled in the living room watching TV. I say, “Hi,” but they only give me small waves, entranced in their show, so I hop right in the shower. Once I’m finished, I head back into the living room and put myself between them and the TV.

“Ready?” I ask.

They all nod and get up from the couch.

“Where the hell have you been?” Lisa asks.

“Running.”

“I’ve been home since three-thirty and haven’t seen you,” says Jackie, grabbing her purse. “When did you leave?”

“Two.”

“Jesus,” Lisa says. “How are you still standing?”

I laugh. “I won’t be much longer if I don’t eat. Let’s go.”

The walk to When in Rome isn’t long. It’s only a couple of blocks from our house to the small, family-owned pizzeria, but after my three-hour tour, my legs are shot. Several times, my knees wobble, and my friends giggle about it.

“Serves you right for running that much,” says Hannah as she links her arm with mine to hold me up. “Why were you gone so long?”

“I needed to let off some steam.”

“Uh oh,” Lisa says. “I sense a story coming on.”

“First, I need a beer.”

We step into the restaurant, where an employee instructs us to seat ourselves, so we choose the corner booth. A server comes over, handing us each a water, and I suck mine down immediately. Before she takes my glass to refill, she hands us menus, but we really don’t need them. We know the selections by heart, and we always get the same thing; two large pizzas. One for me with cream cheese, garlic, and black olives, and one with cream cheese, Canadian bacon, and mushrooms.

After taking our beer orders, the server leaves us, and Lisa leans her elbows onto the table. “Okay, what’s with the triathlon?”

“It’s been a long week. Hell, it’s been a long semester dealing with Sam, but today everything kind of...” I flick my fingers together as I make an exploding noise.

“What happened?” Jackie asks.

With a sigh, I tell them everything. I start with the hike, making sure to mention how Sam insisted he was going to be honest in his report. I tell them about the midterm, the study group, and the internship. I even go back a bit to explain what happened with the bull to Jackie and Hannah. All of my friends listen with their mouths agape as I finish by telling them all the rotten things he said this afternoon.

“That dickhead.” Lisa smacks the table with her palm before waving our server over. “You need something stronger than a beer.”

I pull her arm down. “No, not here. Let’s go dancing.”

“Really? I thought you had tutoring tomorrow.”

“My morning client canceled so I don’t have anything until noon.”

Lisa’s face lights up. “Sweet. Yeah, let’s go dancing.”

The four of us bounce in our seats as our server returns with our beers and pizza.

***

Dancing does exactly what I need it to. It distracts me. Not only from my frustrating afternoon, but also from my aching legs. I’m surprised I can even move after my monumental run, but with the pizza fueling me, I’m good to go. I’ll probably regret it in the morning. Right now, though, I’m feeling loose after a few drinks and some of my favorite songs.

So loose, in fact, that when my friends want to keep dancing, I opt to sit at the table so I can catch the server to order more three-dollar shots.

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