You Must Remember This

Chapter 30: A Little Priest

When not struggling to start his college applications or playing video games, John occasionally found the time to go socialize with his friends. The classic core of Beth, Regina, and Juliet proved most forthcoming, mainly because they saved him the trouble of taking initiative, and their idea of a good time was eating food with little else needed. John walked up to the rose garden and saw Beth sitting on the bench texting the others; she looked up at him and beckoned him to sit down instead of awkwardly hovering around her.

"What are the odds that Juliet will have guilted Frank into showing up?" Beth asked after the usual pleasantries and upon realizing that both of them were a bit early.

"I don't think Tom is coming, and although Frank does live fairly close by, I know he's busy prepping for the club. I'm sure he has better things to do."

"I think it's more likely he wanted to avoid a repeat of last year. Regina and Juliet were, shall I say, sociable."

"If Frank didn't at least tolerate her presence, I doubt she'd be vice president of the club."

"He may tolerate her, but if I know her, I think she more than tolerates him."

"Maybe he just likes the attention. I know I would," John remarked, now thinking back on all the "attention" he had received over the years. There was something about the park in the summer, maybe, that drew out those feelings—the heat and fragrance, perhaps. And it was this that John and Beth savored for a few minutes before Regina and Juliet arrived, and without wasting any time they left.

"Why don't you bring Tom with you, anyway?" John asked Regina while they stood in line at Dirt & Grass.

"That's a great question. Hmm, why don't I bring him? Beth, why don't you bring Behrooz?"

"Some things are best enjoyed privately. That's less about socialization and more about obligation—the good kind of obligation. But nowhere in my visualization of the perfect date with Behrooz is a whole supporting cast. We can't leave you out of this, Juliet—why don't you bring Frank?"

"Well, Frank isn't hers to bring," John muttered, but Juliet interrupted as if she had an epiphany:

"It slipped my mind completely, but you're a genius! You're all geniuses! I never quite thought about it like that before; I know he's not to be disturbed this summer, but, just but, when the time comes he will be brought whether he likes it or not. Anyway... ice cream. You should try the smoked salmon, John."

"Ugh, smoked salmon! Who would order that?"

"Frank," Regina groaned. They took their ice cream back to the park, and John still could not believe his good fortune. He was an outsider, a casual watcher in the darkening streets who did not really know anything about his dining companions besides what they presented outwardly to him. He enjoyed his infrequent social outings with the girls because they made him feel interesting. What he said held great importance to them, choosing ice cream flavors or deciding where to sit down. He used to clearly bristle whenever social media was brought up, but now he didn't turn frigid when they inevitably Snapchatted and Instagrammed their adventures. He really did stick out, though, three people with sunglasses and stylish outfits, and then John in jeans and a T-shirt awkwardly crammed in-frame. They outnumbered him, that was as clear as day; and if they wished to dictate how it was John felt at any moment, he couldn't stop them. He was more than a token, but John did not know what to think of himself nor anyone else. At least the ice cream was good.

But why was he there? His visits to the lake had exigence; they were separated by distance and time from the mortal world. Time looped back on itself there, which is why sophomore year felt as close as yesterday and that year's trip had been filed before then, before John learned to be his own protagonist. So why was he with them in the park? John looked up at an unfamiliar sky through frightening leaves and shivered as he found what a grotesque thing a rose is and how raw the sunlight was upon the scarcely created grass. Raw, that was the word: there was no filter, no peer pressure, nothing to stop Juliet stealing a spoonful of his ice cream when he wasn't looking or her mischievous smile with milk-stained lips when she was caught in flagrante delicto. There was too much heat, and they had to eat their ice cream quickly before it melted. In the heat, everything melted together in John's mind, as if they were made of wax. Everything was made of wax, the textured leaves, the wiry men playing tennis, Mr. T in the far distance playing alone with his dog. John was tempted to go say hello to him, but he was so far away, and the others were so near.