The drive out to Arlington was congested, and he hit plenty of traffic, but this was expected. Rather than letting it bother him, he actually embraced it. The traffic strangely felt good—because it felt normal. Traffic was a normal problem, a problem that everyone had. It was familiar, almost pacifying. So, he sat in it like everyone else, changing lanes occasionally, usually to no avail, the entire time driven by thoughts of drinks and of laughter and of being a normal person again.

He turned onto Dave’s street and did a silent fist pump when he saw a car pull out right in front of Dave’s building, leaving behind an empty space. He put on his blinker, pulled past it, and then parallel-parked back into it. Then he shut off the engine and stepped outside to a couple pairs of hands clapping. Joe immediately knew the source, and he grinned.

Peering up to the 3rd floor of the apartment building before him, he could locate Dave’s balcony, and upon it he saw Dave and Nick, the two of them with drinks in hand, sitting on cheap plastic chairs, with their feet kicked up on the balcony railing. This was a common mode.

“Nice spot,” Dave called out.

“Thanks,” Joe said. In the twilight of the young evening he could see the faint orange glow of Dave’s cigarette bounce back and forth as he took a drag.

Within a few minutes, Joe was up on the balcony alongside them. They drank rum and cokes, and Joe joined them, pouring himself a loaded one. Deep down he knew it was irresponsible, he knew it was reckless, but since he’d already committed to it, he wasn’t going to half-ass it. The night was going to be like old times, he’d decided.

He sat alongside his friends, smiling and laughing easily as the twilight turned to night. It was frightening how swiftly his drinks went down the hatch. By the time they left to go meet the rest of their group and head off to the bars, they each looked drunk already. Joe reveled in it. He needed the respite—he needed it more than anything. He told himself that again and again.

It was a perfect summer night and the streets of Arlington shined before them. They found their other friends, and fully immersed themselves in it. Merged together, they were a group of ten, walking down the street, more like floating.

“Holy shit, Joe is smoking already,” one of his friends observed, a girl whom he’d known since high school. “How long have you guys been drinking?”

Joe just laughed. Every second of the young evening was just delightful. It was also delightful how he’d forgotten all about his phone for so long. Sadly, as soon as he made that realization, it seemed to leap out of his pocket so he could give it a quick glance as they walked along.

He froze in mid-step.

There was a new text from Danielle. It had arrived sometime within the past hour and it read very simply.

dude wtf

His good feeling subsided in an instant, and he even froze in mid-step, lagging behind his group.

Everything had been going so well. No weirdness. No cumbersome thoughts. Just good friends and hanging out. But her text represented a serious threat to all that.

“It has to be fucking bullshit though, right?” Joe asked the question out loud. By then his friends were already a block away, so they didn’t hear him. A few random passersby did, but they promptly ignored him. While catching up to his friends, Joe rapidly played back each of his recent encounters with Danielle. He tried to take a step back, to look at them with fresh eyes. Soon enough he realized that chances were very good he was just an asshole, and that was the only story to tell, really. She’d been nothing but great to him, and he was ignoring her, essentially—even ghosting her. She was just an awesome, fun girl, and Roy—that guy was a complete lunatic. Everything he’d said was sheer lunacy. That’s what made the most sense. It was Occam’s razor—the simplest explanation was most likely the correct one.

It all clicked, and Joe actually nodded, with a relieved look on his face, his confidence further spurred in the shine of alcohol, the two running hand in hand. It was all so clear now—Roy was insane, and Danielle was truly awesome. So he’d had a few unusually strong dreams recently about an ex-girlfriend from the past—big deal. Probably everyone did that. He must have let it slip to Roy, his musings about Jennifer, and so Roy had latched onto that, for whatever bizarre reason that was.

Everything was simple, actually. Explainable. Joe exhaled, in deep relief, and he texted her back as he walked.

hey, i’m sorry, Danielle… i was going thru some stuff. But i’m back now

Throughout the remainder of the walk he checked his phone often to see her reply, but there wasn’t one. He thought he needed to give her a little more in order to get one back, something with just a little bit of spice. They reached the bar they wanted to go to, and while waiting in line to get carded, Joe texted her again and quickly hit Send before he could think better of it.

btw i had a dirty dream about you last night

He put his phone away and then didn’t think about it over the next couple rounds of drinks. Then, while standing in line for the bathroom he checked his phone again. She had sent three replies.

nice to have you back :)

i’d like to hear about it

copious details please

Joe grinned, and began texting her back.

* * *

Nick stumbled over to Joe.

“Those rum and cokes just murdered me earlier,” he said woozily.

Joe, focused on his phone, didn’t reply.

“Damn, you’ve been texting her all night,” Nick said. “I think you’re in a lot deeper than you let on.”

Joe heard, but didn’t bother to acknowledge the comment. He hit Send on another message, and then tucked his phone away.

“She’s on her way over,” he said, finally.

“Yeah? Danielle? She’s coming all the way out here?”

Joe explained. “She was in Virginia already. At a dinner with some of her girlfriends. That’s wrapped up now, but she’s not ready to go home. So she’s meeting us.”

“That’s cool.”

“What’s everyone else doing?” Joe saw their group slowly starting to rally.

“The girls,” Nick muttered. “They want to go somewhere they can dance, you know?” He added a shrug.

The guys had been protesting that idea for over an hour, but he figured it was only a matter of time before they gave in.

“You gonna join them, Nick?”

He shook his head. “Nah, I’m wrecked, man. Dave and a few others are heading back to his place, so that’s where I’m going.”

This was a natural split in his group of friends, occurring right about the usual time, with some going to the clubs, while the others went somewhere more relaxed. Or, who was he kidding, they were going somewhere they could sit down and smoke a bunch of pot. Such a split was one of the more telling personality tests, in Joe’s mind.

Like Nick, Joe felt wrecked too… but also glorious. The night had been a tremendous return to form. Even though he’d spent much of the time texting with her. Occasionally while reaching for the phone in his pocket, his hand met paper instead—Jennifer’s letter, of course. A charm he’d kept on him all day, hoping it would spur a miracle.

It didn’t, obviously, he admitted sadly to himself.

He drank deeply from his beer, while often looking over to check the barroom door. He was actually staring right at it when it glided open, and to his great delight, he saw Danielle make her entrance. She carried a small string purse and she wore a light summer dress that fluttered gently around her thighs. As she walked her silky dark hair danced around her shoulders, and from the way she moved, it was clear she’d been drinking, at least as much as Joe had. She gave him a wide, boozy grin as she approached, and Joe knew she was just seconds away from melting into his arms.