Caroline decided that we should arrive together.

  First of all, because I would probably feel less anxious going in if I’m accompanied. Which is absolutely true. Second of all, because it would maybe instill some jealousy if Taylor happens to watch in our direction as we enter the meeting room.

  Which he does. And it works. Well, at least he’s leering. Now does he feel jealous? I can’t tell.

  “Hey! Come on in please,” Emily welcomes us with a warm smile. As she hugs Caroline, her eyes fall over me. “I’m so glad you came, Alex.”

  Her arms are still open and my heartbeat quickens at the thought of having to hug a total stranger. Is she really a stranger? I did see her multiple times since we work at the same establishment. But did I engage in any conversation before the forced one I had at the Café? No. Never.

  What decides me is the look on everyone’s face inside the room. All of their eyes ready to pop out of their sockets, their mouth agape so largely they could fit an entire orange in there. And Andrew’s expression is the best one. He’s frowning in addition to all the rest. And blushing. Is he embarrassed? Upset? Vexed? I would take any of them. All three would be ideal.

  So, I bend over and hook my arm at her waist, squeeze her closely for a second, and give her a smile that doesn’t quite reach my eyes but is still more than usual. She’s doing the same face as the others now. What did I do? “Uh, so, just, help yourself, there are drinks and food and a little closet for your coats.”

  “We don’t wear coats, Emily,” Caroline remarks but our colleague is already walking away from us. I just shrug and approach the table where the bottles are displayed. Between Jack Daniels and Woodford Reserve, I have to choose the first one, although neither of them is my favorite.

  I pour myself a glass and turn around to silently observe the rest of the guests. The room is already cramped, but they haven’t moved the enormous round table in the very middle, leaving the majority of it unused. Russel comes to me with a glass in his hand. “You went for the whisky too?”

  “Yes. I like it a bit too much.” I admit. He might be one of the few I don’t mind exchanging with. He’s one of the oldest of the professors, yet, instead of becoming a cantankerous, unbearably self-sufficient fiftyish-year-old, he developed his field of knowledge with humility and wisdom.

  His little smile is sincere. “It’s my weakness too. I’m happy you decided to join us. It’s been a while since we really talked. Probably—”

  “In Dr. Felandra’s class.” He nods and takes a sip of his beverage. “How is she?”

  He groans. “Not great. She might have to program a C-section.”

  “She’s at the hospital right now?”

  “It’s been four days. And no dilation. It could put the baby at risk to wait longer. They’ve already pushed the limit because she wanted to experience the natural way so badly.”

  I watch the liquid swirl inside my cup and reminisce about the birth of Elena. A terrible one too. Mom had to go through the forceps and the balloon before they chose to do a C-section. It took her months to fully recover. “I truly hope she’ll be okay.”

  “That’s nice of you. I’m supposed to see her tomorrow.”

  “Well, tell her I wish her the best.”

  “Of course, Alex.”

  “Thank you.” I say and he pats my shoulder before leaving. Childbirth is one subject I hesitated following during my courses. Despite our advancement in technology and all the tools we invented, it seems we still have a lot to discover and improve. Because as much as these tools might help the delivery and the doctors doing it, it is often to the detriment of the woman’s health. Who has already suffered a great deal during the previous nine months. After Elena’s traumatizing birth, it added another possibility regarding my future career. But either way, I was definitely led into medicine.

  Only when I tilt my glass into my mouth do I realize it’s empty. And as I pour myself another one (a much bigger one), Emily speaks up. “So! Thank you all for coming to tonight's first party of the year. I usually organize such events for us to mingle and have the opportunity to get to know each other better. And for that, I’ve thought of a quick little game that we could do! Everyone, come take a Bingo grid.”

  A game. Where I have to talk to others. How great. I take a burning gulp of my whisky and put myself in line to get the paper. Caroline beams not far away from me and I see Andrew speaking to Taylor nonchalantly. He has already tumbled head first in his mission it seems.

  Sarah’s low and grumpy voice rises up behind me. “What an old-fashioned way to mingle. We could have played spin the bottle.”

  “Are you crazy? I’m not kissing Billy. Or even Howard. Can you imagine your lips against Nathan’s?” Sarah giggles, unperturbed. Her friend continues. “Not to mention most of the professors are married.”

  “I know. Still. It would have been funnier.”

  They stop talking as we approach Emily and we all get a sheet. My eyes fleet away diagonally and I glimpse at a few of them. Speaks five languages, has already been arrested for theft, practiced sexual activities in their own classroom, went to all of Depeche Mode’s concerts and many, many more. I’m not even sure what mine is. What could they’ve put in there that represents me? It has to be between ‘reads all of Dr. Gorgio’s articles’ and ‘went to a libertine house’ but how could they have known for the latter?

  Sarah’s voice emerges again. “Holy shit. I didn’t expect that.” Her friend laughs. She adds. “This is going to be hilarious.”

  Emily gathers everyone’s attention one last time. “There will be punishment for the worst two scores! You can start.”

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  And everyone engages in conversation. While they all seem to be knowing each other even a little bit, I don’t know where to begin. With whom. Who’s a fan of Depeche Mode? Anyone could have committed theft, although my eyes immediately dart towards Sarah for a reason and what even is a “numismatist”?

  I put my name over the frame with Dr. Gorgio’s article because Emily couldn’t really know anything else about me. At least one point is secured. Sarah’s name on the theft frame. Because what the hell. But after that, I’m lost.

  “Hi, Alex?” Nathan approaches me and his awkward smile mirrors mine. I now remember his reaction after hearing about my interest in this scientist’s articles. This frame could be his but what would be my own then?

  “That’s me.”

  “Well, I’m asking but I might already have an idea for yours.”

  “I have absolutely no idea for you.” I admit without an ounce of amusement yet Nathan laughs.

  “Nothing has caught your eye?”

  “Besides Dr. Gorgio’s papers, but that one is probably mine.”

  “You don’t know yours? I thought it was this one.”

  “Then it’s mine. But what is yours?”

  “I’m not supposed to tell you, you have to guess.”

  “I’m not so good at guessing.”

  “Well, I haven’t stolen anything in my life and I’m not too much into music.”

  “Do you own a Honda Civic?”

  “I’ve decided to use the bus to avoid contributing to the pollution.”

  I have to bite my lip hard not to sigh to his face but after a quick glance at the proposition again, I choose one. “Then you have to be the one who created a community garden at the campus.”

  “Bingo. You’re smart.”

  We both write our names in the corresponding squares and he leaves after a small wave. If I have to do this with every single person in this room, I would rather fabricate a weapon with whatever I find in the area and terminate my own life.

  Instead of playing, I pour myself a third glass (up until the rim) and station purposefully next to the conversations that I can overhear.

  Andrew often moves in my peripheral view and he’s been following Taylor since the beginning of the game. Carefully turned towards him, his pencil stuck behind his ear. They seem to laugh and enjoy their time together as they navigate from group to group and gather answers. I stare at my pitiful progress. Only three.

  At some point, I lose track of time. My third glass is down and the whisky has reached my brain way up there. Until Emily shouts for everyone to hear her properly. “Okay guys, I’ll be taking the papers now. We’ll know in a few minutes who the two losers are.”

  Five answers. Out of twenty-six. Despite listening to the conversations, my non sober state prevented me from concentrating. The bottle and the alcohol have been my buoy into this sea of people and I’m now facing the consequences. This is usually what happens when I attend a party that I don’t want to be a part of; I persuade myself of the necessity that I’m pleasing to everyone and I can only reach that attitude with a bit of magic in my veins. Only, the day after, my head is pounding and my throat is dry and besides embarrassing myself in front of the group, it didn’t do any good at all.

  Caroline trots to me with a shining grin on her face. “How did you do?”

  “Terribly.”

  “Figured. You talked more with the buffet.” She pinches my cheek and I slide my hand inside my hair.

  “Did you talk with Taylor?” I ask and her eyes start glittering.

  “A little. When I had to find his statement.”

  “Tell me it’s the one with the libertine house.”

  She gasps and slaps my arm affectionately. “Alexej! Of course not. It wasn’t easy to talk to him. He’s very shy. But Andrew did a great job helping me. Taylor asked me out.”

  “I’m glad you got what you wanted.”

  “Why do you sound mad?”

  “I’m not.”

  Emily interrupts our conversation with a few claps of our hands. She waits for the room to be quiet before giving out the names. “Tonight, we have two people who didn’t play the game appropriately. And to punish them, they’ll be forced to talk to each other for seven minutes straight!”

  Caroline eagerly shouts next to me. “What’s going on?”

  “Seven minutes in heaven!” She answers as if it helped me understand. I lift my brow. “You don’t know this game?”

  “Obviously I don’t.”

  “Two people are chosen to spend seven minutes in a dark space, like a closet or a storage room. Usually to kiss. It’s a teen’s game.”

  “Never heard of it.”

  “What kind of parties did you go to?”

  “Wasn’t invited.”

  “Shocking.”

  I giggle uncontrollably because of the alcohol disinhibiting my senses. Some turn our way and we pinch our lips to stay quiet.

  “Our two losers are… Alex and Andrew!”

  Well, that’s no surprise coming from me but him? What has he done for the whole night? We roamed in the room during the entire game, he spoke with every group, I could see him at every corner, always following—

  Taylor.

  He was glued to Taylor for more than an hour and was so focused on being Caroline’s wingman that he didn’t give the game a single glance. Did I even get more answers than him? That would be terribly ironic. And conveniently priceless.

  I’m summoned close to Emily while I try to hide my sarcastic grin on my face, in vain. “You do seem happy to have lost.” Emily jokes and the realization of what’s about to happen finally hits.

  I’ll be stuck. In a closet. With Andrew Miller. To kiss?

  No. To talk. Which is as bad.

  We could do none of these options.

  “It’s nervosity. I’m sure there’s another way out of this.”

  “That was the game, Alex.” She insists. But she can’t force me, right? I’m an adult. I did my vaccines. I pay my bills. I don’t mess with anyone.

  “What if I refuse?” I whisper because Andrew’s approaching in the corner of my vision and I definitely don’t want him to hear me begging.

  She pouts and watches me intently. “That wouldn’t be very funny don’t you think? Come on. Seven minutes. That’s nothing.”

  That’s everything. That’s an eternity. Especially with Andrew Freaking Miller with me in it. “What about I only go there? Alone? I’m sure I’m the one with the least good answers.”

  “Actually, Andrew has no answers at all. Well, that’s not true. He put only his.”

  “Which one is it?”

  “You should have played the game, young man. Now in the closet! Both of you.” She adds, pointing at the man behind me. I can’t look behind. I don’t want to see his expressions and I don’t want him to see mine. He would immediately know what I think. And if I enter the closet pissed off, it’ll be even worse. The alcohol is already pumping hard in my blood and the feeling of a headache pokes through my brain like large needles.

  All of them watch us at the threshold and I squeeze between boxes and hangers. They stab my shoulders and backs. “See you later!” Emily shouts lively before closing the door.