For Those Who Don't Believe in Love Songs

Chapter 17 Pt 1- Jello Shots

April 5, 1997

James' thumb traced a circle over the top of Martha's hand as she leaned her head against the bus' metal stanchion. A pothole hammered her temple and she sat up. Across the aisle, four boys debated something Martha hadn't tracked. Three of them burst into laughter upsetting the forth.

"You okay?" James asked.

Martha nodded and tried to smile.

They were meeting a group including, among others, James' Advanced Dynamics professor and the university's Vice Chancellor of Research for dinner. Martha wasn't looking forward to it, but had agreed to accompany James for the sake of politics. As their research progressed, they would need access to equipment and funding and being in the Vice Chancellor's good graces would be invaluable.

James reached to pull the cord, requesting a stop. They stood and Martha gripped the stanchion to steady herself as the bus made the wide turn off of Piedmont Ave, onto Bancroft Way, and to a stop. They stepped off and started for the restaurant.

Martha's first semester and a half had been far less idyllic than she'd expected. For one thing, it turned out that college was actually quite difficult. It wasn't high school and she couldn't phone it in. After classwork and lab work, there wasn't much time left for a life. On top of that, she and Lina had slowly developed a state of mutual disdain. Swear to God, if she begins another sentence with 'Yo,' I'm going to lose it!

And then there was James... Maybe she'd expected too much. Maybe she'd dreamt an impossible fantasy. But it felt greater than that.

They passed under a balcony holding three girls smoking cigarettes. Their conversation was unintelligible from the height and through their drunken laughter, but Martha had a hunch they weren't discussing cosmic paradoxes or gravity's effect on electromagnetic radiation.

Martha returned her focus to the sidewalk in front of them. This dinner was going to be boring. She'd have to listen to James charm them. He'd offer his song and dance as if the professors were beyond him. He'd condescend. Martha had come to understand that he usually condescended – to others and to her. But for the duration of the meal and for James, she'd smile and play along. She wondered if the other Marthas felt this conflict. Other Marthas... Her stomach clenched.

They continued on past another apartment building, then a pair of sorority houses, and then a fraternity house hosting a party, its foundation pulsing from excessive bass. A crowd of undergrads gathered at the foot of its porch vying for entry. Above them, four of the fraternity's members acted as gatekeepers.

Suddenly, Martha stopped. "I don't want to go to this."

James waited a moment then said, "Okay."

"That's it?"

"Yeah. I'll call the restaurant and they'll inform the party that we couldn't make it."

"But this dinner was a big deal," Martha said. "You're not upset?"

"Honestly, it's a setback. But a much bigger setback would be if you decided that you didn't want to be a part of the research at all – which has always been, and still is, an option."

"I know, I know. Thanks."

"So... What should we do instead?"

Martha turned to the fraternity house.

"A frat party?" James asked.

"Yeah. Never been to one. Think you can get us in?"

James surveyed the house for a moment. "S.A.E? Think so." He unfastened his tie, folded it and stuffed it into his jacket's inner pocket, then untucked his shirt and loosed its top button. He took her hand and said, "Let's find out."