'No. She said she got into Notre Dame. Who picks IU over Notre Dame?'
'Plenty of people. Why do you always dump on IU?'
'Okay. Look. I hate Notre Dame more. I'm just saying if you apply to those two schools and get into both, presumably you want to go to both. So you'd pick Notre Dame. It's a better school, right?'
I nod. 'I guess.'
'But she didn't get in there. Nor did she get a, what did she say, thirteen hundred five and a half or something on her SATs? Remember that shit?'
'Yeah. She lied about her score.'
'And she lied about Notre Dame too. Trust me… Did you ever see the acceptance letter?'
'No. But… well, maybe she didn't.'
'God, you're so naive,' he says, mispronouncing it 'nave' on purpose. 'I assumed we were on the same page there.'
'It was a sensitive topic. Remember?'
'Oh yeah. I remember. You were so sad,' he says. 'You should have been celebrating your escape from the Midwest. Of course, then you pick the second most obnoxious school in the country, and go to Duke… You know my theory about Duke and Notre Dame, right?'
I smile and tell Ethan that I have trouble keeping all of his theories straight. 'What is it again?'
'Well, aside from you, and a few other exceptions, those two schools are filled to the brim with obnoxious people. Perhaps only obnoxious people apply there or perhaps the schools attract obnoxious people. Probably a combination, a mutually reinforcing issue. You're not offended, are you?'
' Course not. Go on,' I say. In part, I agree with him. A lot of people at Duke-including my own boyfriend- were hard to take.
'Okay. So why do they have a higher ratio of assholes per capita? What do those two schools have in common, you ask?'
'I give.'
'Simple. Dominance in a Division-One, revenue-generating sport. Football at Notre Dame and basketball at Duke. Coupled with the stellar academic reputation. And the result is an intolerably smug student body. Can you name another school that has that combination of characteris-tics?'
'Michigan,' I say, thinking of Luke Grimley from our high school who was insufferable in his chatter about Michigan football. And he still talks about Rumeal Robinson's clutch free throws in the NCAA finals.
'Aha! Michigan! Good one, nice try. But it's not an expensive private school. The public aspect saves Michigan, makes Michigan alums slightly less obnoxious.'
'Wait a minute! What about your own school? Stanford. You had Tiger Woods. Great swimmers. Debbie Thomas, that skater, didn't she win a silver medal? Tennis players galore. Plus great academics-and it's private and expensive. So why aren't you Stanford grads as irritating?'
'Simple. We're not dominant in football or basketball. Yeah, we're good some years, but not like Duke in basketball or football at Notre Dame. You can't get as jazzed over nonrevenue sports. It saves us.'
I smile and nod. His theory is interesting, but I am more intrigued with the realization that Darcy got rejected by Notre Dame.
'Mind if I smoke?' Ethan asks as he removes a carton from his back pocket. He shakes a cigarette free, rolling it between his fingers.
'I thought you quit.'
'For a minute,' he says.
'You should quit.'
'I know.'
'Okay. So back to Darcy.'
'Right.'
'So maybe she didn't get into Notre Dame. But she did get Dex.'
He strikes a match and raises it to his lips. 'Who cares? Let her keep him. He's spineless. Sincerely, you're better off.'
'He's not spineless,' I say, hoping that Ethan will convince me otherwise. I want to latch onto a fatal flaw, believe that Dex is not the person I thought he was. Which would be a lot less painful than believing that I am not the woman he wanted.
'Okay, maybe 'spineless' is too strong. But, Rach, I'm positive he'd rather be with you. He just doesn't know how to dump her.'
'Thanks for the vote of confidence. But I actually think he just decided that he'd rather be with Darcy. He picked her over me. Everybody picks her.' I gulp my beer more quickly.
'Everybody. Who besides spineless Dex?'
'Okay.' I smile. 'You picked her.'
He gives me a puzzled look. 'Did not.'
I snort. 'Ha.'
'Is that what she told you?'
After all these years, I have never aired my feelings about their two-week elementary-school romance. 'She didn't need to tell me. Everybody knew it.'
'What are you talking about?'
'What are you talking about?'
'The reunion?' he asks.
'Our ten-year?' I ask, knowing of no other reunion. I remember the disappointment I felt when Les insisted that I had to work. Those were the days before I knew to lie. He had scoffed at me when I said I couldn't work, that I had to go to my ten-year reunion.
'Yeah. She didn't tell you what happened?' He takes a long drag, then turns his head, exhaling away from me.
'No. What happened?' I say, thinking that I am going to fall apart and die if Ethan slept with her. 'Please tell me you didn't hook up with her.'
'Hell, no,' he says. 'But she tried.'
As I finish the rest of my pint and steal a few sips of Ethan's, I listen to him tell the story of our reunion. How Darcy came on to him at Horace Carlisle's backyard afterparty. Said she thought they should have one night together. What would it hurt?
'You're kidding me!'
'No,' he says. 'And I was like, Darce, hell, no. You have a boyfriend. What the fuck?'
'Was that why?'
'Why I didn't hook up with her?'
I nod.
'No, that's not why.'
'Why then?' For a second, I wonder if he's going to come out of the closet. Maybe Darcy is right after all.
'Why do you think? It's Darcy. I don't see her that way.'
'You don't think she's… beautiful?'
'Frankly, no. I don't.'
'Why not?'
'I need reasons?'
'Yes.'
'Okay.' He exhales, looks up at the ceiling. ' 'Cause she wears too much makeup. Cause she's too, I don't know, severe.'
'Sharp featured?' I offer.
'Yeah. Sharp and… and overplucked.'
I picture Darcy's skinny, high-arched brows. 'Overplucked. That's funny.'
'Yeah. And those hipbones jutting out at you. She's way too skinny. I don't like it. But that's not the point. The point is-is that it is Darcy.' He shudders and then takes his beer back from me. 'Hold on. Let me get another
