Lilac Mines Read Free Page A

girl with a German accent who keeps welcoming the crowd to “Sow-ah-puss.” The real Eva could be doing almost exactly this thousands of miles away. She could be hunting for the side-whatevers to her relationship with Kate—or worse, what if Kate is so fabulous that Eva doesn’t need anyone else? Felix calculates the time difference and realizes that Eva is most likely sleeping. Her arms thrown over her head, as if she’s dreaming of roller coasters. Kate trying to spoon her un-spoonable body. In Berlin or Prague, it’s already tomorrow. Eva is living in the future, and she’s not calling Felix to tell her what it’s like.
    Felix wishes she had backpacked through Europe after graduation instead of working at an internship that became a tedious editorial assistant position. Then she would know what early summer weather was like there, how it would touch Eva’s skin. Is the light buttery or sharp? Are the toilets the same? Is it true there are no homeless people? Who will Eva give her change to?
    â€œI am hoping everyone is having a good dance,” the DJ purrs over a techno pop song.
    â€œShe’s cute,” says Crane.
    â€œYou have a girlfriend, lady,” Felix reminds her. Sandy and Crane are very monogamous, but Sandy hates to dance.
    â€œI mean for you. You’re free, remember?”
    â€œOh. Right.”
    Felix doesn’t know how people meet in clubs. She doesn’t know how to make the transition from looking hot and dancing well to actually hooking up the names and numbers and body parts. She keeps moving, her fists punching at the ceiling. For now it’s enough to be in a new place.
    Crane buys her a ginger ale/vanilla Stoli, Felix’s drink since she decided she needed A Drink. It was the perfect beverage—pale and unadorned enough to make her think of detective fiction, but still wet with sugar. Crane sways as she hands it to Felix, sloshing her own apple martini as she balances on her cast.
    Robbie drinks beer, preferably micro-brew, but he’s not a snob about it. “Hey, lushy,” Robbie yells to Crane over the music. “When do you get that thing off?”
    â€œCouple more weeks still. My brother told me that I probably broke it because I broke it before, in gymnastics when I was little. Something about how once you kill the nerves in a certain part of your body, they don’t regenerate. Like, I can’t feel the ground quite right with that foot, even though the bone is strong. Everyone thinks it’s the bone that’s the problem, but really it’s the nerve.”
    Felix feels faraway from the conversation. She sees Eva enter the club, wearing big Elton John glasses and trailing two hip-hop chicks. She decides to try out an idea, the way you can try out things in a bar. “Hey, you guys, what would you think if I ran away?”
    â€œNot to Europe!” Crane says. “I forbid it. I don’t want to hear any more about her tonight.”
    â€œIt’s okay to miss her,” says Robbie. “Crane, have a little sympathy. I remember when Andrew and I broke up—”
    â€œI’m not talking about Eva,” Felix insists, although she wants to let the name linger in her mouth. The small, neat bite of it, like tapas. “I just sort of want to go somewhere. I want to do something more interesting, more creative or whatever.” Even through her drink’s shimmer, she can feel the cliché of her statement. Everyone she knows is thinking about quitting. To Do Something More Creative or To Give Back A Little. But unlike Felix, they’re too busy being successful. Felix hates being a cliché, longs for a world not divided between mimics and reactionaries. Where would that be, she asks herself, the womb?
    â€œMaybe I’ll do a little traveling. On this continent, don’t worry. To, like, New York,” Felix says, thinking, Sure, I could just break into fashion design. Her