Donna in the Senior Year Ch. 01

"Oh yeah, you're about two miles away then." Now some pieces had to fall into place, and indeed they did.

She said, "Okay Paul, how about we share a car service?" Great idea. It was much better than dragging ourselves by subway into Manhattan, and then another hour up to our neighborhoods. And then I noted that it was the first time she had said my name. It was funny how hearing a girl say my name had an impact, like being assured that I was now somebody significant in her life.

She called from a pay phone a couple of blocks away. I wondered if I should say goodbye to Warren, our host, but college party etiquette was pretty loose. I wasn't going back up there for that. Next week I might have an interesting story for him about what had happened.

The car was an old Dodge that had probably been a medallion taxi once. It still had a partition across the interior that gave us a bit of privacy to talk. More cannabis was going through me and the car seemed to be moving incredibly fast. And yet my perceptions were skewed enough that the trip paradoxically seemed to take a long time.

We got more talkative back there and I told her about one of the role-plays I had been in. I tried to keep it simple and only described the "pick up" game version where two people pretended to be strangers meeting at a bar or cafe.

"That sounds kind of interesting," she said.

"It can be fun but sometimes you forget you're playacting and it turns into a psychodrama."

"Really, what can go wrong?"

"Well, it one case that girl Charlotte invited me to her apartment and then she - or rather her character - changed her mind and threw me out." I didn't say, she made up for it later when I came back. I left that to Donna's imagination, but for a moment I could picture sitting on a footstool while Charlotte straddled me. She had been wearing a straw hat and not much else. Man, 1975 was the best year ever.

Donna said, "I'd like to try something like that." Oh right, the role play itself. Still, that was a big hint. She continued, "I bet I could come up with my own ideas." If she did, then who better to try them with but me?

I decided to compliment her, or her gender at least, "I'm sure you could, women seem to have a knack for scripting these things." Playing live-action Barbies and Kens, I had decided a while back.

We seemed to take an inordinate amount of time crossing the Whitestone Bridge, like we were moving but not getting anywhere. I recognized from previous experience that it was an illusion caused by the pot, although I had always been on foot when it had happened before. Yet I could understand Donna perfectly when she spoke again. The effects seemed to vary every time I used it, probably because illegal drugs always had unknown dosages and mixtures.

She was looking out the front and not at me as she said, "Sometimes this whole expectation of meeting somebody, getting all lovey-dovey, it's a fantasy. It would be easier to have a relationship that is basically just an arrangement."

That seemed like a continuation of the disappointment she had expressed earlier. I didn't quite take everything she was saying at face value, but I guessed there had been something disappointing that had recently happened and I was curious to know what it was.

I said, "You mean like an arranged marriage?"

"Something like that. Apparently those worked pretty well."

"Then make an arrangement with me."

Now she looked at me. "Wouldn't you rather have some nice sweet girl? There must be some at City College."

"You seem nice to me."

"I can be pretty difficult when I'm in a weird mood, like now."

"Maybe I'd rather be with you, you'd be more interesting I think." Besides, people who are truly difficult rarely admit it. I was hoping with that she might move over and cuddle with me but she didn't. Instead she looked out the windshield again and said, "We'll see."

We arrived at her apartment building on a side street between Lydig Avenue and the Parkway. I said, "Did you live here with your parents?"

"No, I have my own place here."

Nice how another bit fell into place. "How about I come up and we finish that joint?"

"Oh, that's a good try. It's not really the pot you're interested in."

"Well, it is pretty good."

She frowned at me but that seemed to be a put-on, "Are you after a one-night stand?"

"I've never had one."

"Why not?"

"I've never wanted one," was what I came up with.

"I see, you've a nice guy, or so you seem."

"Not too nice, I hope."

She laughed and I continued, "I'd like to have your number."

I found a receipt in my wallet to use for paper but neither of us had a pen; I had to borrow one from the driver. Then I said, "So I'll be seeing you." I tried to control it but it sounded like a question.

"Yes, soon I think." Then she kissed me and said goodnight. Something moved in me as she left and closed the door. I was trying to feel upbeat but the other side of my nature came through. What happens if she wakes up tomorrow and disowns everything she did tonight?

My mind was a bit clearer now. I tried not to think about her on the short trip up to my house but I wound up thinking about other women. Two of my ex- girlfriends, Michelle and Judy, were still on the newspaper but they hadn't come to the party. I was glad that they hadn't; their presence would have complicated things.

I also saw Michelle at my part-time job at a typesetting company in Manhattan. She had gotten me the position and then had become a supervisor. She was a pretty good manager and she remained friendly to me, but it still was a bit irksome to have her as a boss. I remembered late night trysts with her in the shop when we were still a couple. I thought of those when she was bopping around the place now with her clipboard and her hair in a bun at the back of her head.

I thought that both she and Judy had gotten a bit full of themselves now that they had new boyfriends, older guys who had good jobs in the city. Perhaps that wasn't a fair opinion but I had it anyway. They both seemed - well, slicker, more assured now and I felt I had been left behind in a space between adolescence and adulthood.

Michelle had said at the end that I had been a "fun" boyfriend but now she was looking for "maturity" and "exclusivity." In other words, her days of open-relationship running around were over. Dear Michelle, I know it wasn't personal, it was just business. She herself liked using quotes from the Godfather movies. Anyway, I had long suspected she was more ambitious than I was.

I resolved to be a little more ambitious myself this year and put in more hours at work. College had become pretty routine and I knew I had spent too much time messing around. This Donna paid for her own place, and she seemed like a fairly confident sort.

When I got out of the taxi I thought, I've assumed Donna is a senior like I am but I didn't ask. Well, I hoped to know in a couple of days at the most.

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