Page 65 of Heathens
I want the evil gone from Notre Dame. I want to feel free of the man who can justify vulgar misuse of his power and God-given position.True freedom.It’s then that I realize, I could stay like this forever.
Harmless
Lily
Two and a Half Years Ago
I throw back my fourth shot and hand Evelyn the small, matching plastic cup. She smiles as she tosses it back, her face serene as she leans into the arms of a man we came here with. The bank of the Seine is undulating with people, and booms sound every few minutes—fireworks starting early. It's surprisingly warm for December. Neither of us has a coat. The man dancing with her is attractive—young, dark-skinned, European. We met a couple of times before tonight. Philipe is his name. She sways her hips to the live music a few hundred feet away. For the umpteenth time since we moved here, we feel that same pulsing of belonging—like we've finally found our tribe. Like we've finally found the ground we were supposed to be walking on all along.
I close my eyes as arms find my middle, and I don't even look to see who it is behind me as we dance. The thumping of the bass works through me, causing me to let go and dance—causing an unrestrained smile to break free on my face as I slowly open my eyes. The alcohol makes me feel like I'm burning, like I'm some sort of goddess dancing to the beat of the music in this medieval, gorgeous city. Someone hands me another shot. I take one for Evelyn too, giddy and excited for the fireworks show in just under an hour. She stumbles forward, losing her footing, but Philipe catches her. Though we don't know him very well, he and his friends invited us out for the celebrations tonight. The group is a mix of Evelyn and I—the only Americans—and students from Greece, Italy, France, and even the Netherlands. Though we only just met them—Philipe notwithstanding—they welcomed us into their group seamlessly. It's one of those nights that feels right. That feels providential in its rightness. The music, the company, the drinks, the weather...
“Do you guys want to find a better spot?” I ask, unable to wipe the smile off of my face. Philipe and his friends all mutter something, but Evelyn steps forward.
“I agree with Lily. The fireworks will be on the river—we should try to get to the front.”
“I’ll go look for a spot,” I slur, giving the man behind me a feline smile.
“Ooh, I'll go with you,“ Evelyn offers, kissing Philipe on the cheek.
Linking arms, we push through the crowd. The smell of cooking food wafts through the air, and I nudge Evelyn. “We should get some food soon, or I'll be sick all night.“
Evelyn nods, her eyes focused on the party before us. Someone throws confetti in the air, and it rains down on us. Twirling, we laugh and dance in circles as much as we can while pressed up against other bodies. An evening breeze cools my skin, and I close my eyes, grateful we've been able to get to this point. Grateful for our new friends, our new city, and our lives ahead of us. I'm flying so high on life that I nearly run over an older man.
“Sorry,” I mutter in English, giving him a genuine smile. He returns it, and something about him reminds me of someone. His face is open, welcoming.
“Do you know where the fireworks are starting?” Evelyn asks him, and as his eyes scan us, I see some sort of worry flutter in his expression. He probably has a daughter our age.
“I can show you,” he says, his voice jovial. “I’m getting a drink for one of my friends anyway.”
I grin. “Thank you. That’d be lovely.”
“Lily,” Evelyn whispers into my ear. “Come on. We should get back.”
I brush her off, surprised at her hesitation, and whisper back as we follow the older man through the crowd. “Look at him. He’s harmless.”
Evelyn is silent as the three of us push to the edge of the crowd, toward the bar.
“What would you young ladies like to drink?” he asks.
I shoot Evelyn anI told you solook. Anyone who uses the phrase ‘young lady’ is too old to be threatening.
“We’ll take two shots of tequila,” I say confidently. The bartender hands the man our shots, and he gives them to us. I’m careful to follow the cups with my eyes diligently—date rape drugs are on the rise, but again, this guy is harmless. I shoot mine and wince, and Evelyn does the same.
“And I’ll take two glasses of Pinot Grigio,” the man adds. Right, he was buying a drink for his friend. I widen my eyes at Evelyn.Ha! See? Harmless.
“I’ll show you where you need to go on my way back to my friend,” he says warmly. “You girls be safe tonight, alright?”
I nod overzealously. We weave through the clusters of smokers, the group of break dancers, and the baton twirlers. The sounds of the crowd get quieter and quieter. Evelyn tugs on my elbow.
“Lily,” she hisses, her teeth chattering all of a sudden. The world begins to sway from the alcohol. I wish—just for a second—that I was a bit more sober. “Where is he taking us?”
I study the man in front of us. He’s a little bit overweight, but in a jolly, Santa Claus way. His short, brown hair is cut close to his head, and he’s wearing a maroon sweater and jeans. And his glasses make his eyes look much bigger than they are.
“Evelyn, it’s fine. He’s taking us to the fireworks,” I garble, a prickle of doubt needling through me.
“Lily—”
“It’s just through here, girls,” the man says over his shoulder. He’s leading us down a narrower street.
