by Amanda Perry
By the last dance, Cassie was lost in the magic of music and soft lighting. It was a slow, sensual rumba, danced to the sound of marimba and plaintive saxophone.
Nick held her close as they swayed and stepped, spinning her out as the dance demanded, and then, as the music swelled to a climax, reeling her in, pressing her against him, her head tilted up, in the perfect position for his lips to descend on hers…which they did, but only for a second.
Then she was back on both feet, and the dancers began to clear the floor. The magic of the moment began to dissipate, dissolved by the ordinariness of the chatter around her as she walked back to the table.
Chapter 2
The next morning, Cassie covered her blistered feet in band-aids and slipped gratefully into her sneakers.
It was the last day before summer vacation and she was taking it easy on the kids, playing literary-themed games with them and letting them talk about their plans for the summer.
She always loved the last day, when everyone was too excited to work. She felt she learned more about the kids on days like this than during all her classes with them put together.
On the way home, she stopped by The Cheesecake Factory and selected two slices of Key Lime.
Pulling a sharpie from her bag, she scribbled “Happy birthday, dear roomie!” on the box.
It was a tradition of hers and Francine’s that they never exchanged cards on their birthdays, only slices of Key Lime cheesecake. They had never missed a year, ever since they had first roomed together as freshmen at Boston College.
The next stop was their favorite Chinese restaurant for takeout chow mein, a more recent birthday tradition.
As Cassie waited for her order, she pulled out the poetry book she had checked out of the new school library earlier that day, promising the librarian she'd return it early the next morning in time for summer inventory.
She had been curious whether a copy of Nick's work would have been there, and sure enough, it was.
It was a slim little booklet with a black cover, with the title, stains, typed in stark white contrast. She flipped it open, picking a poem at random.
your acid heart
a bittersweet lemon drop
sickening my soul
you corrode my hope
burn through my dreams
devour the last
of what was good in me
take my love
I hope you like the taste
choke it down
the lump in your throat
my chewed-up heart
torn to shreds cannot be remade.
Cassie returned the book to her bag as her order number was called. Wow, she thought as she headed back to the car, that was cheerful.
It reminded her of some of the poems she had seen scrawled in the margins of her students’ notebooks. She’d written a few herself, back in her late teens when Evanescence had been the soundtrack to her life. If only I’d known there was a market for them! She grinned at the thought, then turned her attention to the evening ahead.
Just as Cassie arrived home, the ominous grey sky gave a rumble and unleashed a downpour. She dashed into the building just as the first drops began to fall.
“Isn’t it a beautiful evening?” Francine trilled as Cassie came into the apartment.
“Beautiful,” Cassie said, agreeing with Francine's sarcasm. “Still want to go out tonight?”
“Are you kidding? This is my last birthday before I go to Poland, become European, and never come home again! I’m not cancelling my plans because of a little rain.” She took the takeout bag from Cassie and went into the tiny kitchen to unpack it.
“Uh, Francine? You’ve been selectively European for as long as I’ve known you. And you’d better come back." She opened a bottle of Francine’s favorite Valpolicella and poured two glasses. "Have you looked out the window? This isn’t just a little rain, it’s bouncing off the sidewalks.”
“Well let’s see what it’s like after dinner.” Francine picked up her glass and clinked it against Cassie’s. “Happy birthday to me!”
“Happy birthday to you!”
By the time they finished eating, the weather had not improved. If anything, the rain seemed even heavier, and Francine’s phone had been buzzing all through dinner with texts from friends cancelling on her birthday plans.
“Looks like it’s just you and me, Cassie,” she said. “Still want to go dancing? I’ll understand if you don’t.”
Cassie knew her friend well and could see her trying not to feel hurt by the cancellations. “What’s a little rain?” she smiled. “Of course I still want to go dancing. Come on. Let’s go get glamorous.”
********
A couple of hours later, Francine and Cassie arrived at Sonar, their favorite dive of a nightspot.
It was dingy and rundown and smelled of years of dance floor sweat and cheap body spray, but the drinks were cheap and the music was kitschy and fun.
“I hope this isn’t too much of a comedown for you after the Four Seasons,” Francine said gravely as they settled at a sticky table with their mojitos.
“I am used to the finer things now,” Cassie replied. “But at least they let me wear my sneakers here.”
Francine rolled her eyes at this. She was dressed to the nines in a short, sparkly dress and towering heels, but Cassie had refused to spend another evening in painful footwear and was wearing blue jeans and a strappy top.
She knew Francine wasn’t really disappointed. She loved to overdress, and Cassie’s casualness would highlight Francine’s sparkle.
They sipped their cocktails, giggling as they reminisced about previous nights out.
Cassie told Francine about Nick’s poem and quoted the bits she could remember, which sent them both into fits of laughter. When they heard the opening bars of Bad Romance, they both leapt to their feet and made a dash for the dance floor.
Several songs later, the girls decided it was time to fight their way to the bar. They pushed and wriggled their way through the crowd, then grabbed a cocktail menu and waited to be served.
“Wow!” Francine yelled over the pounding bass. “Take a look at that guy! He is hot!” She pointed directly at the subject of her interest with her customary lack of subtlety.
“Francine! He’ll see you!” Cassie pulled her friend’s hand back and ordered two strawberry daiquiris.
“So? He won’t mind. I wouldn’t mind.”
“You can’t just point at people! It’s rude.”
“Pfft. I’ll go right over and tell him he’s hot, then.”
“Francine -” Cassie wanted to try to stop her, but right at that moment the server brought their daiquiris.
Cassie let her walk away while she paid for the drinks. When she turned back around, Francine was heading straight for the man she had pointed out.
Cassie picked up the drinks and went after her, just as she had so many times before. It didn’t take much alcohol for Francine to get in the mood to talk to strangers.
By the time she caught up, Francine had already reached the man and started chatting with him. Cassie came up behind him. “Please excuse my friend, she’s a little -”
He turned around. Cassie stopped dead in mid-sentence as she came face to face with the most handsome man she had ever seen. Laughing green eyes shone out from a rugged but kind face under a mop of mussed brown hair. He was tall and strongly built, as casual as Cassie herself in a simple white t-shirt and blue jeans. He gave her a wide smile.
“Ah, it’s no problem,” he reassured her. “There are worse fates than getting a compliment from a stranger. I’d offer to buy you ladies a drink, but I see you’ve got your own. Can I get the next round for you?”
“He’s Australian!” Francine yelled, claiming her drink from Cassie and nearly falling off her high heels.
“Thanks Francine, I’d noticed.” Cassie turned back to the man. “That’d be great, thank you! I’m Cassie and this is my roommate, Francine.”
“Pleased to meet you both,” he said, and stuck out a hand. “I’m Brendan.” They grabbed a table and huddled close together to be heard over the music. “Good thing for me you two came along when you did,” Brendan continued. “I came here with one of the guys from the station, but he met someone and left me alone. I was just making up my mind whether to head home or stay here and risk looking friendless and alone.”
“From the station?” Cassie asked. “What do you do?”
“Fire fighter,” Brendan explained. “Yourselves?”
“We’re both teachers. Francine is going to teach in Poland for a year.”
“That’s amazing. Good on you ladies for doing it – not everyone can handle being a teacher.”
“And that’s coming from a fireman?”
“Sure! Fires are easier to deal with than teenagers. God, I’d have hated to teach me when I was that age! What is it you teach?”
“English.”
“Ah! Maybe I wouldn’t have been such a problem for you then. I liked English, or at least I did once I figured out that reciting poems got me girls.” He shot her a wink. Cassie hoped the room was too smokey for him to see her blush.
“Juvenile ladykiller, were you?” she teased. “Who did you use?”
“ Byron mostly. 'She walks in beauty, like the night. Of cloudless climes and starry skies; and all that’s best of dark and bright, meet in her aspect and her eyes.' You learn that one and you’re set for the rest of your school years.”
They soon drained their glasses and Brendan, as good as his word, headed for the bar. As soon as he was out of earshot, Francine grabbed Cassie by the arm.
“Cassie, he’s gorgeous!” she squealed. “Don’t you think he’s amazing?”
“He’s a looker,” Cassie admitted. “But you saw him first. If you want me to back off, just say.”
“Me?” Francine looked genuinely puzzled. “He’s cute, but I’m leaving in a few weeks. I’m not looking for a boyfriend, and he’s way too nice to waste on a one-night stand." Quickly, she added, "I know, I know, you don’t do those anyway. I bet you he doesn’t, either. You should go for it! Ask him out! Or get him to ask you out if you want to make it more complicated, whatever.”
“But what about Nick?”
“What about him? Cassie, you had one date with the guy. You’re not even sure if it really was a date. He didn’t ask you out again.”
“He kissed me.”
“He did? You didn’t tell me that!” Francine realized she was getting sidetracked and shook her head tipsily, “Anyway. That doesn’t mean you have to act like you’re married to the guy. You can’t promise undying fidelity to someone who hasn’t even asked you for a second date. Look, think about it. I’m gonna go dance so you can hang with him without a third wheel.”
She tottered off, and within moments she was at the center of a throng of appreciative men, all trying to dance with her as she strutted her stuff to the thudding rhythm of Call Me Maybe.
Brendan returned with a bottle of beer for himself and Mai Tais for the two girls. “Has Francine gone?” he asked.
“She’s dancing. She’ll be back soon.”
“Ah. Well, nice to be just the two of us.”
They talked for a while longer – how much longer Cassie didn't know. The conversation flowed smoothly as she asked him about his life in Australia and reciprocated by telling him about growing up in Massachusetts.
He moved to America with his mother when he was fifteen. She had raised him alone in Queensland after his father died. Eventually, she met Brendan’s stepfather, a Brooklyn native who brought them to the States. Brendan joined the fire service in New York before transferring to Cape Cod.
Cassie shared all sorts of silly stories about the early days of rooming with Francine, college exploits, and teaching tribulations. He matched those with anecdotes about dramatic rescues made into something hilarious as he narrated them like action movies.
Eventually, Francine returned from the dance floor, downed her Mai Tai and nearly collapsed. She clung to Cassie, giggling helplessly.
“Time to get this one home,” Brendan laughed. “It’s been really nice chatting with you, Cassie. Would you like to grab another drink some time?”
“I’d love to!” Cassie’s mouth replied before her brain could intervene. “It’s just – this probably sounds strange, but I might be sort of seeing someone. I had a date the other night, and I don’t know exactly what’s going on, probably nothing, but I don’t want to do anything to hurt either of you, so I thought I should say something.”
“Oh! Right.” Brendan looked surprised. “I’m sort of seeing someone myself. But look, I’ll give you my number. Maybe we can have a drink just as friends.”
“Great!” Cassie grinned like a maniac, trying to cover her awkwardness. Brendan scribbled his number on a napkin. She wrote hers down in exchange, then he walked them out to the street to find a cab, helping her to prop up Francine. He saw them off with a cheerful wave, oblivious to the pouring rain drenching his shirt.
In the back of the cab, Francine’s head lolled on Cassie’s shoulder as she dozed off. Cassie screwed up her eyes and berated herself for handling that last exchange so badly. Think about the good stuff instead, she thought. There was a lot of good stuff!
She felt her phone vibrate through her purse. She pulled it out and saw Voicemail flashing on the screen. It looked like her phone had been trying to give her this message for quite a while – over a dozen missed calls were showing. She tapped the phone to retrieve the message.
“Good evening, Cassie.” It was Nick. “I hope I’m not calling at an inconvenient time. I just wanted to let you know that I really enjoyed your company last night. I’ll be back in town the beginning of next week and would like to see you again. I have tickets for the Symphony on Tuesday. The program’s a little heavy on schmaltz, it’s got a lot of Beethoven, but the tickets were a gift from a friend of Dad’s, so I’ve got to use them. It’d be a lot more bearable if you were with me. I promise I’ll take you to something better next time. Let me know if you’re free. See you soon.”
As she hung up, the phone buzzed again, a text this time.
Hi! It's Brendan. Really enjoyed meeting u 2nite.
Let me know if u want 2 get a coffee sometime. Be safe getting home!
Cassie tried to figure out what to do next, but the mixture of wine and cocktails and the motion of the cab was making her head spin.
She decided the best course of action would be to switch off her phone, shove it back inside her purse, and leave all decisions until the next day.
Chapter 3
Despite downing a pint of water before going to bed, Cassie was not surprised to wake up with a hangover the following morning. After a mix like that, hydration was simply damage limitation. But hey, she thought, what’s the first day of vacation for?
She dragged herself out of bed and put on a strong pot of coffee. She was halfway through her second cup and had just tossed some bacon in a pan when Francine surfaced.
“Coffee…” she groaned, shuffling toward the table.
“Bacon sandwich? Best cure for a hangover,” Cassie said, sliding a cup over to Francine, who nodded painfully and sat sipping gingerly until the food was ready. As her headache subsided to a manageable level, the events of last night came flooding back.
“Francine?”
“Mmmm.”
“I got a message from Nick last night. He wants to take me to the Symphony on Tuesday.”
“What?” Francine sputtered, nearly choking on her coffee. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“You were passed out and drooling on my shoulder by then.”
“Are you going?”
“I don’t know – yes? Probably?”
Francine assumed an air of exasperation, “Do you want to go?”
“I guess. He seems cool, and we had a good time at the benefit.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
Cassie h
esitated, trying to think of a way to explain things that would make sense to her friend, “You remember that guy from last night? Brendan?”
“Do I! How could I forget? It’s not every night I see a seriously sexy fireman hitting on my roommate. Did you like him?”
“He seemed nice. He asked me if I want to get coffee.”
“And are you going to?”
“Well, not if I’m gonna go to the Symphony with Nick.”
Francine opened her mouth to reply, but then stopped herself. They finished breakfast in silence and Francine got up to make more coffee.
“Cassie,” she said, turning to her. “You know I love you, right? But I have to tell you, you are crazy. First you tell me you like Brendan, then you tell me you won’t even get coffee with him because Nick also asked you out.”
“Nick asked me first!” Cassie cried.
“Is Nick your boyfriend?” Francine asked. Cassie shook her head. “Right. You told me you didn’t even know if the benefit was a date! Let me ask you this: did Brendan ask you to go on a date, or just to go for coffee?”
“Just for coffee.”
“Right. So it’s not a date, then, is it? You can go for a completely platonic coffee with a guy, can’t you? Especially when Nick is not your boyfriend?”
“I guess.” Cassie mumbled like a chastised teenager.
“Why not invite him here?” Francine offered. “I can hang out, be your chaperone, make sure you don’t give in to your baser instincts and accidentally be unfaithful to your not-boyfriend.”
“You know, that’s not a bad idea.”
“I know. Even hungover I’m a genius. If you’ll excuse me, I am going to take a shower, and I’m planning to stay in there until the hot water runs out and you decide you’re going to be thrilled to be rid of me in a few weeks.”
Francine refilled her coffee and wandered out of the room while Cassie grabbed her phone and replied to the two messages.
She sent Nick a quick text saying she’d love to join him for the Symphony and would call later to work out the details. That done, she replied to Brendan.
