You Must Remember This

Chapter 12: The Devil Will Drag You Under

John followed a reliable schedule every morning during school days: he would wake up to his alarm clock, which he kept on the default tone; look out his bedroom window to decide what sort of weather it was that day; put on clothes without much regard for fashion or style, only instinct; stumble to the kitchen and make himself a bowl of cereal with a glass of orange juice; brush his teeth, by now used to the unpleasant taste of the toothpaste; wave goodbye to his parents if they were awake; and walk a few blocks to the bus stop. John's bus stop was located across the street from a grocery store and bakery; some of the other students would have pastries and coffee while they waited, and some would have Doritos and Gatorade. He had sometimes considered grabbing a croissant or something, but it didn't feel right. He would grab a newspaper and start reading it while he waited for the bus, which was dependable enough to always show up right when he was starting to become absorbed in whatever he was reading that day. Still barely awake, he would get on the bus and find a seat that was to his liking; often, this would be a seat across from Beth.

Beth wondered what it was about the newspaper that John found constantly fascinating every day. Once she had picked up a copy at her bus stop, expecting something vaguely political or economic, but she only found updates about board meetings and a new chain of salad bars. John seemed like the type who would attend board meetings as a recreational activity, but until she suddenly developed an interest in the banalities of suburban life, no more newspapers for her. That left her on her phone most days unless she had homework to do. One morning, when she was in the mood for conversation, she asked John how he was enjoying his newspaper; the answer, she assumed, would be the same as on any other day, but if she were lucky it would start a conversation. John looked up, surprised as usual, and dropped the classifieds page in his astonishment. Beth, not knowing if John held a particular interest in antiques or plumbing services, bent down to return the page to him, carefully avoiding crumpling the paper. Still in a generous mood, and worrying that he did not in fact need the classifieds page, she saw that his right shoe was untied; John had never quite mastered the double knot. As she was already bent down anyway, she then took the initiative to tie John's shoe for him, all while maintaining a casual smile that conveyed this was normal etiquette and just what friends did.

"How are you on this fine morning, Beth?"

"I'm fantastic, how are you, John?" Their conversations had grown more frequent due to the club, which encouraged small talk between fellow good people as a means of boosting camaraderie. Beth and John were both reserved enough to generally avoid this whenever possible, but after the newspaper, the ice was broken and it would have been weirder, they thought, not to continue acknowledging each other.

"I'm hanging in there, I'm hanging in there. How are your friends?"

"What a funny coincidence, John, I have some exciting news about one of your best friends, but I don't know if she told you already."

"Do tell. My interest is piqued."

"Regina and Tom are officially a couple now." John dropped his newspaper again, this time picking it up before Beth could. Tom and Regina's courtship was brief, so brief that Beth had no knowledge until she saw Tom and Regina holding hands in the hallway after school and forced her to explain what happened.

When Tom asked Regina the first time if she'd like to study with him, she was so happy to finally be the recipient of the inquiry that she said yes immediately. The same logic applied a week later when Tom proposed a more romantic trip to the mall. Regina had discovered through trial and error that while John was not opposed to eating lunch with her occasionally at school, shopping was a no-go. She even left the opportunity open for other, more John-suitable social events, but John found movie theaters smelly, and he didn't seem like enough of a foodie for lunch out on the town (more precisely, as he seemed content with a sandwich or some variation thereof daily, would he really want a manicured salad? Or even more precisely, would he look happy and Instagrammable while eating one?). Unlike that self-absorbed, cynical, holier-than-thou John, Tom was able to make the first move, and that combined with his smile and desire to treat her to lunch (at nice restaurants, too) was a winning combination. Her prince had come.