Lights Out (Last Call)

Indiana

May 2006

S tanding in front of Jimmy’s Bar and Grill waiting for my friends kind of sucks. The lights behind the beat up old sign perched precariously above the door flicker with a warning. Lights out. We all know this is the last night we’ll be here and together in our favorite hang out. It all ends just a few hours from now. Sure, we’ll have fun throwing back shots and reliving the last four years of university. We’ll promise each other to stay in touch even as we scatter across for new jobs, new lives, and inevitably new friends.

I exhale a deep breath.

The end of an era for sure.

“Why the face, Indy?”

I turn toward Kit, smiling as he practically launches himself into me, all two hundred plus pounds of muscle and sunshine wrapping his arms around me.

“I’m good.” I muss his hair and he snarls at me even though he wears it wild and curly anyway. “All wrapped up on campus?”

He nods, kicking a pebble with his sneaker. “Yeah. Loaded up the beater ready to head west in the morning.”

“All the way to Cali, huh?”

His smile slips as he nods. “Yeah. Crazy, right? An east coast guy trading oceans. It’s my best shot though. I can apprentice with my uncle.”

“I know. I’m excited for you.”

“Don’t give me that puppy dog look of yours, man. We can’t get all mushy and shit until we’re wasted several hours from now.”

I chuckle. “You’re right. I’ll keep it together a little longer.”

“Good man.” He nudges my arm with his. “Lowen’s coming.”

We both wave at our friend as he jogs across the street, dodging two cars to get to us. As usual, he’s dressed way too nice for a grimy dive bar like Jimmy’s but that’s Lowen. He’s always red carpet ready.

“God, could this humidity be any worse,” he complains once he reaches the sidewalk. “My eyeliner’s gonna run.”

“Oh no,” Kit mocks. “Not the eyeliner.”

“Shut it, Adler. Just because you’re not as pretty as I am doesn’t mean you need to hate.”

“No one is as pretty as you are, Low,” Kit says, with a too sweet smile.

“Ugh. Why do I even like you?” Lowen flips non-existent hair off his shoulder. He cut it a few months ago when he started interviewing and he wears his stylish good looks like a model.

“Maybe because I’m the reason you passed Civics?”

Lowen rolls his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, so you’ve got a brain behind all that brawn.”

Kit grins, wrapping his thick arms around our petite friend. Lowen laughs, kissing Kit’s cheek.

“I’m going to miss your hugs.”

“Don’t you start too,” Kit warns. “No mush until midnight. At least.”

Lowen waves his hands in front of his long lashes. “You’re right. I promised myself I wouldn’t cry tonight.”

I scoff. “Automatic fail, gorgeous.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence. I’m a heart on my sleeve kind of guy. What can I say?”

“Don’t ever change, huh?”

Lowen smiles. “Back at ya.”

Three guys walk past us to enter the bar along with a group of women.

“Where are the others?” Lowen asks, glancing down at his fancy watch. “We said seven, right?”

“Yep,” Kit says, glancing around. “Oh. I think I see Ridley’s car pulling up.”

Sure enough, Ridley’s beat up orange clunker backs into a space across the street. The space with a No Parking sign right next to it.

“You’re gonna get towed, dude,” Kit calls out.

Ridley slips out of his car, dragging a hand through his stick straight hair. Today’s color is bright blue, but last week it was green. He’s always coloring it some bold color. He’s tall and lanky and slowly but surely covering every inch of skin with tattoos. He’s also one of the smartest people I know.

“Hey guys.” He crosses the street and gives us all quick hugs. “What’s good?”

“You don’t see the No Parking sign?” Lowen asks.

Ridley looks over his shoulder again and then shrugs. “Eh. So they tow it. It’s not like I’m taking it with me. It won’t make the drive to Chicago.”

Another pang of loss hits my chest. We’re really separating after being tight for years. Before I can get too in my feelings about it, Bane and Jerryn come around the corner. They usually take the subway so that makes sense.

These two are always tied at the hip to the point where we thought they were dating for the longest time, but nope, just best friends. They’re moving to Bane’s hometown in Seattle to work for his dad’s financial consulting business. Bane is the hopeless romantic of the group, and with his big brown eyes, sensual mouth, and a body a sculptor would love, he has no trouble at all catching the eye of any one he targets. In contrast to that is Jerryn, sandy blond and sweet, a little shy, with bookish good looks. He’s dated on and off, but never quite found his footing. Maybe in Seattle, he’ll have his glow up.

And that leaves me. I’m staying in New Onyx, just thirty miles north of Willow Bay, the sweet town where we all met at university in English Lit three years ago during our sophomore year. Six nineteen year old fuck ups who managed to mature and actually graduate. The ceremony is tomorrow, but tonight, one last get together. By Saturday morning, we’ll all be off to start the next phase of our lives.

Bane pulls the door of Jimmy’s open. “After you, gentlemen.”

I laugh as I playfully punch his arm when I pass. The bar is filling up quickly, but Lowen spots a table near the pool tables and we hurry over to grab it before someone else can.

“Two pitchers of whatever they have on tap tonight and two dirty martinis for Low,” Jerryn asks. “Anything else?”

“Don’t forget the round of shots,” Kit says, pulling out a twenty-dollar bill and handing it to him. “On me.”

“Big spender,” Jerryn says with a wink.

He walks off, navigating the growing crowd. Jimmy’s is the only kind of fun bar in town. There’s a biker bar that no one but bikers and their friends goes to and a hookah lounge, but that’s not really our thing. So Jimmy’s it is. But tonight is the last one in more ways than one.

“Can you believe this bar is closing after thirty years?” Bane says, glancing around. “Granted, it’s not the nicest place but it’s all we had.”

“We won’t be here to mourn the loss,” Lowen says, but his voice is sad. “It’s a new chapter for all of us. Jimmy deserves his retirement.”

“For sure,” Bane says, leaning back in his chair. “I guess in my head I thought it would be fun to come back and visit sometimes. All of us, you know?”

“That’s not a bad idea, Bane.” I sit up in my chair. “We should plan a yearly get together. Otherwise, we’ll lose touch. That’s just how life is.”

“Hell yeah,” Ridley says. “We have to do that.”

“I’m in,” Lowen says.

“Me too,” Kit adds.

“Jerryn will come,” Bane says without hesitation. “He’s already bummed about us moving on.”

“At least you two will be together,” Lowen says.

Bane nods. “I’d be lost without Jer.”

“Ditto,” Jerryn says from behind Bane as he returns carrying a tray with shots and martinis. Behind him a waiter sets down two pitchers of beer and several mugs.

Bane passes out the drinks then I lift my shot glass. “I propose a toast.” The guys turn their attention to me. A thousand thoughts flood my mind at once, but I settle on trying to keep it light for now. “To the best friends a guy ever had.”