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I think back, but then shake my head. Amy frowns, which always makes her look younger. I almost feel like pulling out a lollipop to try to cheer her up.
“I wish I hadn’t gotten so nervous,” Amy bemoans. “I drink when I’m nervous. I mean, that place was so glamorous. JD and his cousin were so glamorous. And hot.”
Sitting up, she reaches into her pocket for her cellphone and frowns again. I’m guessing she didn’t get a text or call from JD. She lays back down. “Yeah, I’m not making it to class this morning.”
I wish there was something more helpful I can say, but all I muster is, “There’s enough milk left if you want cereal for breakfast.”
“Where are you having lunch?”
“I made myself a sandwich. Probably going to study at Moffitt during lunch.”
There are amazing eateries around campus, and relatively affordable, too, compared to other parts of the Bay Area, but eating out every day is not in my budget.
As I step out of our unit, I run into Jordan, also going down the stairs. With her designer jeans and blow-dry, she doesn’t look like she’s headed to class, but she’s always stylish wherever she goes.
“So how was The Lotus?” she asks in a tone that reveals she’s not asking because she wants to start a friendly conversation.
“Nice, I guess,” I reply.
She sniffs. “Then you weren’t really at The Lotus. At least not the exclusive one. Just some other club with the same name.”
Whatever. I don’t need Jordan’s validation. “Yeah,” I agree.
But this seems to irk her more. “The Lotus I’m thinking of is insane.”
“I thought you’ve never been there.”
She bristles. “It’s what I’ve heard.”
“I’m sure it’s a different club anyway,” I say, hoping she’ll drop the subject. “The one we were at is owned by a guy named Darren Lee.”
Jordan stops in her tracks, but I continue down the stairs, feeling her stare on my back.
“Darren Lee?” she echoes, catching up to me.
Darn. We are talking about the same club.
“You were at Darren Lee’s club?” she asks incredulously.
I solve the mystery for her as to how someone like me could have been inside a place like The Lotus. “Like Amy said, she got an invite from JD Lee. Turns out he’s Darren’s cousin.”
That seems to make some sense to her, but she’s still skeptical. “Amy got the invite?”
I look at the clock on my cell. “I better run or I’ll be late to class.”
I jog away, leaving Jordan still a little out of sorts. I make it to statistics on time, then it’s tap dancing, the one just-for-fun class I let myself have each semester. I eat my sandwich while walking to the library, where I study for two hours before my next class, Advanced Health Policy, my one afternoon class of the day. It’s held in the Goldman School of Public Policy, one of my favorite buildings on the north side of campus, a quieter, more residential area.
I get there early and the previous class is still in the room, so I wait in the common area. On one of the tables, someone has left a printout of a paid summer fellowship with the State Assembly’s Committee on Health Care. My eyes light up. My current internship is with a county program on food security that only lasts until the end of the semester, and it doesn’t pay. A paid fellowship related to health care would be so much more up my alley than working as a barista and store clerk, the two jobs I had last summer. Grabbing my cell, I take a photo of the printout.
When I make it back to my apartment, all I want to do is hop on my computer to research the nonprofit and start putting together the application. But I run into Amy soon after I step into our room.
“Who’s jacket is hanging in our closet?” she asks.
“Oh, uh, Darren,” I say as I drop my backpack on the floor.
She follows me to my desk. “Why is it in our closet?”
“He let me borrow it.”
