Chapter VI: Whatever
Orr attempted to extract Toff, and the argument he had with her, from his consciousness, but never succeeded at it for long. Every time a thought of her would crop up, he dove headlong into the symbolic and abstract relief of his courses. When her accusing admissions replayed in his head as he tried to sleep, he hushed them with review or thoughts about studying more efficiently. He began studying in a dusty corner of the library, spending the walk there on a schedule and the walk back on review. He stopped answering the door unless he heard his sister's voice blasting from the other end. And, he spent Thanksgiving at NYU with her and her counter culture friends. This strategy worked for a week before Toff's voice first broke through his impregnable defenses and another week after that before it penetrated a second time. But, for the large part of two weeks, he studied Toff out of his brain, and did so with ever-increasing and ever-refining efficiency, so much so that his brain became once more accustomed to the exploration of creative solutions, and Orr began to grasp and excel at all of his material. So much had he improved in these two weeks that on the last pre-final tests, he scored the highest grade in half of his courses, and was in the top five in the rest.
The first event to break Orr's concentration happened at his sister's "Just Eat Shit, Then Rename Everything Tradition" (or "Jets Ret," which Sarah claimed means "Dead Light" in Spokane), and discovered that Toff's semi-pink hair was not a localized phenomenon; three of Sarah's friends had transformed their hair similarly: two men and one woman. Orr was seated next to one of the men, whose named it turned out was, "Thomas." Thomas considered himself an expert "in the art of Aphrodite" and upon seeing the "sad shell before him," decided that no person should look so beaten without being imparted with some valuable (and well-learned!) advice. And, though Orr tried to avoid hearing it, Thomas was adamant and soon subjected Orr to this veritable gem: "Listen, man. All you gotta do, what women really find irresistible, and trust me because I..." he pointed at himself to avoid any ambiguity, "... should know, the thing you gotta do is fucking create, create the fucking shit out of them; you gotta be a Goddamned Kerouac, brilliant and mysterious, spouting poetry out of your hand and fucking smoke out of your mouth." Thomas laughed. "Seriously, man. Pick up the guitar or some shit; paint in fucking Japanese on your chest. You just gotta do something, you know? Be the unique guy, the guy they remember, and they'll fucking pine after you." He laughed again and promptly turned to the woman across the table from him and started chatting her up.
Orr barely followed the inarticulate spew of advice, but the general idea, "be original" reminded him of Toff's accusation. After all, she had said that his experience of liking her was simply non-traditional and therefore false. Either the Aphrodite expert next to him was entirely incorrect (an obvious possibility) or originality could only be considered romantic if it took a predictable form: writing, music, art, and so forth.
But, was Toff really the sort of person to only digest originality that was original in an unoriginal way? Orr had perhaps thought of his friends as trying to be normal and had rejected them for that attempt, but he had never thought of his friends as actually being normal under whatever facades they put on; and thus, they were not they the sorts of people who would reject originality in any form. But, suddenly, the thought occurred to him, was Toff simply not original enough to accept his emotion?
Orr remained silent throughout the rest of dinner, until Sarah forced him into a game of team Scrabble, which given that most of the group had revealed excessive gratitude for wine, soon devolved into hormone-rich social games like "I am a cool guy," and "I am a pretty girl, but I don't care about that shit." Orr's combination of derision and fascination distracted him from his thoughts for the remainder of the evening.
But, as he took the subway home, the question flashed once more in his brain, and even as he fought it with a fierce review session of the the various data structures he had learned thus far, he found himself, suddenly thinking, for example, Maybe she's not worth liking after all... and was forced to redouble his efforts: How does an AVL tree work? ... Well, when a new node... And, only the next morning had the question been fully relegated to his long-term memory.
The second time that Toff refused to vacate Orr's consciousness was in fact a direct product of his strategy of defense. As soon as the late November quizzes were over, his brain demanded temporary relief from the rigorous coursework, but the instant he consented, Toff flooded in once more, and now refused to leave. But the week-long pressure-cooker of his subconscious had worked wonders on the question of Toff, her originality, and whether Orr should like her at all. The first thought that came to him was, This is your problem. You're stuck in a Godelian bind. And, he was. If he consented that Toff was unoriginal, then he decided that she was not worth liking, and the ease with which this decision came to him suggested that he had never really liked her very much in the first place, which revealed that (after all) she was correct and not unoriginal at all, which made her quite intelligent and wise in Orr's eyes and brought a familiar jump to his esophagus, implying that he did in fact like her, and thus that she was incorrect in her judgment of him and thus unoriginal after all. And so forth.
He sat and reflected on this cycle of self-contradiction, then he went to lunch, sitting in a far corner to avoid being seen, and reflected on it, and when he went to sleep, he lay down and reflected on it. What does it mean to like someone? Is it the jump in one's insides or the blindness in one's judgment of the other person? Or is it just being distracted when they're around? Or, or, or.
It took him until Saturday evening to solve his riddle. But, his solution was elegant and precise, and would have made Toff proud. His conclusion, in its infinite simplicity was this: whatever. Lest this conclusion fail to emit the proper level of appreciation, it should not be confused with an arbitrary decision to set aside a question as too difficult, nor as an apathetic mantra. Rather, to Orr, "whatever" implied a fault in the riddle itself. That is, the questions of whether Toff was a perfect creature, whether Orr's internal movements resulted from attraction or not, and so forth, were less interesting than (for example) the unworldly questions of whether Curiosity (or Jack) killed the cat, how to turn giant "S"s into (equivalent) giant sigmas, and how to ensure that a tree maintains a B+. In other words, Orr's "whatever" was the most highly intellectual "whatever" with which that word had ever been bequeathed.
And, Orr ran with it.
He pulled the hook of "whatever" onto every aspect of his worried life, from his abandoning of his friends and family for fear of losing intellectualism to his absurd belief that living in squalor increased his intellectual prowess. "Whatever" became a weapon for him. He discovered dozens of walls that he had set up for himself for what now seemed no reason at all and quickly set about disposing of them. And, in the end, he realized that even the "whatever" weapon was something for which he took unnecessary pride, that it too had become a hindrance needing to be torn asunder, and so he set it to its own self-destruction and stared at what remained of his once cluttered belief system: a single structure to hold the tenet that learning was worthwhile, the tenet on which "whatever" had initially been based, and even it, which had stood throughout Orr's life, found itself on shaky ground, close to collapse. And, with that, he smiled, climbed into bed, and lay in it staring at the ceiling and drifting.
---
Orr awoke two hours later, with the feeling that he had no interest in disembarking from his bed, and yet, he thought, he had no choice. He wanted a new life, a life without the arbitrary walls that slowly narrow a person down until only their habits remain, a life in which the choices he made were based on simple truths, not complex conjectures about murky things like feelings and opinions. And, more than anything, he wanted to enjoy himself now that he was unfettered by the chains of his youth. In three weeks, he would be free of the idiotic, egotistic decision to take six courses, and he wanted to have friends with whom to celebrate and with whom to then spend time the following semester and years.
So, he set about rekindling his old friendships with the little bit of time he had left. He had no false premonition that he would come upon Toff and Tom dancing in the quad, merrily beckoning for him to join them with all forgotten, but he hoped that his honesty and perseverance would woo the two and perhaps even convince Toff to accept Tom's company again. (It is always so easy to be honest and to persevere in one's imagination.)
His plan was simple: he would accost first Toff and then Tom and convince each in turn that they should all spend time together once more, especially given the upcoming break. And, if they had other friends (Dan, for example), Orr would be all the happier, if only for the opportunity to make some new friends of his own.
And, with that thought, he jumped out of bed (banging his head on the ceiling), collapsed down the stairs, and proceeded to dial Toff's number to enact his plan as quickly as possible.
She didn't answer.
But, even as her phone rang, and her voice mail kicked in with its shrill, uncomfortable, "You've just called..." Orr's brain (now practiced in creativity) had concocted another scheme to find her, extracting somehow the phone number that Dan Copod had recited to Toff over three weeks prior: 754-631-8200, and even as he tried to make sense of a complete plan in his head, his fingers were already dialing the number with deft speed. And, now, in an instant, somebody answered.
The voice said, "Woodbury!"
Orr, confused, said, "Dan?"
The voice said, "I am sorry." And, Orr heard the almost inaudible click that marked the end of a cell phone call.
Though momentarily confused by the call, his brain was already hard at work on another solution. It analyzed haphazardly which places Toff could be. He doubted that she would ignore his call, which suggested that she was either watching a movie or was otherwise preoccupied... perhaps spending intimate time with Dan (the thought of which, to Orr's pleasant surprise, did not cause him the slightest uneasiness). The latter was more likely but the former more useful, because he could not very well barge in and interrupt a couple's time together, but he could loiter around a movie theater and wait for movies to end. (Doing nothing was, of course, not an option.)
So, Orr grabbed his calculus textbook and took the subway South to the closest movie theater to Columbia, hoping he wouldn't miss Toff as she departed from the theater, if she had ever gone.
It was, fortunately, a short ride, and one that brought Orr to the theater just as late night movies were ending. Unfortunately, his brain had been so set on the goal of discovering Toff that it had neglected the slightly less pressing goal of not freezing to death. And, the burgeoning winter, whose only goal is to freeze as thoroughly as possible, entertained Orr with blasts of frozen wind. In response, Orr took to jogging in small circles around the sidewalk and almost tripped at every half-second.
Just after his thirtieth trip, Toff's voice from directly in front of him said, "Orr?"
He looked up. At first he didn't recognize her, now with normal hair again, and a giant, white parka, but the voice had given her away, and he smiled.
She said, "What are you doing here?"
Orr said, "Looking for you."
Toff said, "For me?" She donned a bemused smile.
Orr said, "Yeah. I called you." He was out of breath. "And, you didn't answer." Another breath. "So, I thought you might be here."
Toff said, "And if I weren't?"
Orr said, "I'd have to think some more."
Toff said, "I see."
Orr said, "I'm sorry..." He was becoming cold again. "Mind if we start heading back?"
Toff said, "Not at all," and she started walking away from the theater.
It was only at this juncture that Orr noticed that she was alone.
He said, "Where's Dan?"
Toff paused in front of him and looked back. She said, "Oh... long... story."
Orr nodded, though she couldn't see him, and said, "I'm sorry." He caught up to Toff, and the two started walking together.
Toff said, "It's okay. It wasn't your fault."
Orr said, "True."
They walked in silence. Orr had twice attempted to apologize unsuccessfully. And, he felt a voice inside ridiculing him, insinuating that any further attempt must be prohibited at all costs. At one time, this would have stopped Orr.
He said, "Well, actually, I'm really sorry that I disappeared on you."
Toff turned to look at him as she walked and almost collided into a leather-jacket-wearing Jerry Seinfeld lookalike. She said, "It's... It's okay. I was kind of a bitch to you."
Orr said, "No..."
Toff said, "Yeah, I shouldn't have told you how you feel. That's ridiculous."
Orr wondered for a second if she was right. He said, "Whatever."
They walked in silence again.
Orr said, "So, the thing is this. I want to be friends again. And, I want us to be friends with Tom too. I really want to spend time with you two again."
Toff turned to look at him again and almost ran into what looked like the same person. Her body stiffened. She said, "I... I don't think so." She paused. "I mean, I'd love to hang out with you, but I'm done with Tom."
Orr nodded. He said, "I figured, I guess. It's just... and I mean no disrespect at all... but, I don't think he really did much wrong." She didn't respond, so he continued. "I mean, he shouldn't have led you on, but the thing is, we were all really good friends, and I don't think he was wrong to spend so much time with you."
Toff, her voice low, said, "I don't think that he was really that wrong, morally, but he still hurt me, a lot, and I have no interest in talking to people who hurt me like that, for better or worse."
Orr nodded again. He said, "I can't argue with that. Then let's us two hang out. And, I'll go see how Tom's doing by myself."
Toff, her body still stiff, her voice still low, said, "Okay."
Another pause.
Orr said, "So, changing topics... I had this idea for a game, and I thought that you and I could maybe make it together."
Toff, still sullen, but with voice rising and tinged with curiosity, said, "A game?"
Orr said, "Yeah. A logic-based board game."
He had her full attention now. And his own, since the idea was coming to him as he spoke it.
He thought, I can't believe I'm making this up!, but in thinking about thinking, he instantly brought the whole magic of creativity to a halt, and could only mutter, after a long pause punctuated by Toff's curious glances in his direction, "Yeah... That's as far as I've gotten so far with it... But, I thought... that you might want to take part."
Toff, luckily, was ecstatic. She shrieked, "Of course! That sounds awesome!" Then, in a (slightly) calmer tone, she began flying through ideas, like characters named for Aristotle, Boole, Leibniz, and so forth, or cards that give you pieces of information (like "not Wednesday" or "not Wednesday implies not ice cream"), and your goal is to derive something using those facts, or something like Taboo, with teams, a time limit, and one person trying to have her team derive something given a some fun-forcing restrictions. And on and on her ideas went.
Orr smiled and nodded at them, thinking many were good, many impossible, and others nonsensical, but mostly happy to watch Toff so beside herself with excitement, and he wondered if he had perhaps accidentally landed upon a successful idea. But, even as he thought it, and the bubbling heat of ego rushed up through him, he pushed hard to tear it back down, to remain only someone trying to enjoy himself with friends, desperate only for good experiences. And, on thinking this, he pushed away his self-consciousness and began theorizing about how to implement or supplement Toff's ideas, and the two were quickly immersed into the same endless world of a newly begun project.
And, they reached Columbia without even realizing that they had walked instead of taking the subway.
---
Two days later, Orr, for the first time since he began attending, looked behind him in his logic class just before the class began. He spotted Toff instantly and smiled at her. Tom had grown his hair out, was wearing the scruffy beginnings of a beard, and kept his head low, so it took Orr until after the class began to spot him. But, as soon as he did, he couldn't keep his eyes off of his old friend. He missed most of the lecture (which was about Bertrand Russell, the present king of France, and definite descriptions), turning as often as he could to glimpse Tom's altered state.
Tom had hair to the bottom of his ears; he no longer wore glasses; his face had grown more slender, almost gaunt, and he had worn so many holes into the parts of the long sweatshirt he was wearing that Orr wondered if it protected him at all from the cold. On his tenth glance, Orr noticed that Tom's hair also looked different; it looked wiry and fragile. Two glances later, he noticed that Tom's eyes were now different colors, though he couldn't tell which from the distance, and that there were dark lines under Tom's eyes. And, another five glances after that, he saw a small cut on Tom's right cheek.
By now, class was coming to an end, and Orr finally settled into his seat and looked at the professor, who shot him a frown, intending (he feared) that his negligence would cost him dearly in what had been her growing favor.
Oh well, he thought, and stared at the front of the room, unable to understand anything.
When the class ended, Orr navigated his way through the crowds to intercept Tom, but Tom had grown adept at leaving the room quickly (though not as quickly, Orr noticed, as Toff, who appeared to have simply vanished as soon as everyone else began standing). He dashed out of the classroom and glanced around, finally spotting some bouncing hair and the half-back of a shirt that could only be Tom's. He hurled himself toward that area, barely avoiding the oncoming students and all but colliding with the students moving in his direction as well.
And, soon, he was right behind his former friend, mesmerized by the bouncing hair, and found himself staring at it, unable to accelerate. What had he wanted to say? What did he expect Tom to say?
He took five large steps and was beside Tom. He said, "Hey, Tom."
Tom looked over at him and then stopped suddenly. Orr, who had not expected this behavior, continued a half-step farther and almost collapsed in his attempt to stop. He turned to face Tom. Students around them were grumbling about the unnecessary obstacle in the hallway. One girl muttered, "People are so insensitive!"
Orr grinned.
Tom, again without warning, began walking again and, as he passed Orr, who was struggling to turn back and begin walking alongside Tom all at once, said, "Hi, Orr. Listen, I gotta go."
Orr called, "Wait!" and though Tom didn't, Orr managed to catch up. He started, "I'm..."
But, Tom cut him off. "It's okay. Don't apologize. I'm just late for a meeting."
Orr said, "A meeting?"
Tom said, "Yeah, I'll talk to you later."
And, at that moment, they reached the door outside, and Tom took off at a run.
Orr thought, I'm going to need a better strategy. But, he was also going to be late if he didn't hurry back inside.
---
Orr spent his next class deciding how he should next approach Tom. His most obvious option, to look him up and call him, sounded at first appealing, but Tom's antisocial look and mannerisms reminded Orr too much of himself two months prior, and he decided that Tom likely would not answer arbitrary phone calls. But, the thought of himself gave him another idea, or (rather) reminded him of how others had gotten a hold of him: unexpected visits. And, with barely another thought, he decided that this would be his best plan.
That evening, he found Tom's room and knocked on his door. The door was framed in leis, and a large whiteboard covered the door itself, with the words, "We love you, Tom! Hen&Ted " written in blue marker (though the marker itself was no longer around). Attached both sides of the doorframe, now lying deflated on the floor, were two balloons, one blue and one white.
Someone was moving around inside, and after a few seconds, Tom opened the door.
Tom said, "Oh, hi, Orr."
Orr said, "Hey, Tom."
They stood in silence, Orr unable (again) to decide on a speaking algorithm, and Tom for his own reasons.
Finally, Orr said, "Mind if I come in?"
Tom thought for a moment and then said, "Not at all! ... You'll have to be quick, though. I'm pretty busy." And, he led Orr into the room.
It was a single room, with the bed unlofted, and little extra space because of it. The room was perfectly neat, including the bed, but the room also looked empty; no posters lined its walls, and the only signs that someone lived here were the blankets on the bed, the computer and some papers and books on the desk, and the man standing before him, motioning for him to take the lone chair.
After Orr sat down, Tom sat on the bed. They stared at each other.
Orr said, "It's been a while," and he chuckled.
Tom said, "Yeah." He smiled slightly and for a moment.
Again, they stared at each other in silence. And, again Orr broke it, this time with more gumption.
He said, "Okay, so the thing is this... I'm sorry it took me so long to figure things out... but I'm ready to ask my friend for help."
Tom said, "Help?"
Orr said, "Yeah. I'm pretty unhappy."
Tom said, "And, you want therapy?"
Orr said, "No, I want friends... I want people with whom to enjoy myself."
Tom said, "Well, I'm sorry, Orr. I waited a long time, I did, but I've got my own friends now. I'm not the Tom you used to know."
Orr said, "But, I'm not the Orr you used to know either. Just give me a chance, see if you can deign to be my friend. It can't cost you anything but time."
Tom thought about this notion for some time. He looked around his room. Then back at Orr. Then around his room again. He said, "I just don't see it happening. I'm sorry, Orr... But, I'm pretty busy these days. Time is something I can't really afford"
Orr said, "That's fine. I'm not asking for all of your time, just a day, an hour, even half an hour. And, if you can't afford it now, maybe in a week, or next semester. But, eventually, some time has to free up, and I'd like to ground it as soon as it's free."
Tom nodded and said, "Okay." But, he refused to smile.
Orr smiled at him and said, "Thanks."
Again, silence overcame the room. Tom looked at his watch and opened his mouth, waited for another moment, then closed it again.
Orr, not sure what else to say, said, "So, Toff and I are making a game."
Tom jerked his head up immediately. He said, "Toff?"
Orr said, "Yeah."
Tom looked down again and began scratching at his knee. He said, "How is she, anyway?"
Orr said, "She's good, I think. As excitable as always."
Tom nodded in painstaking absentmindedness. He said, "You hang out with her a lot, then?"
Orr said, "I didn't." He paused. "I mean, I did... and then I didn't."
Tom looked up at him, one eyebrow raised well above the other. It was the first familiar look that Orr had seen and he smiled at it.
Orr said, "We hung out for a while, then stopped, and now I think we're starting again."
Tom said, "Sounds melodramatic."
Orr said, "Not really."
Tom said, "Ahh..."
Orr said, "Anyway, I know I'm not the best person to be running about giving advice, but... You should apologize."
Tom said, "I did." He looked down again.
Orr said, "Again."
Tom said, "I did a lot." His voice was rising.
Orr said, "More then."
Tom looked up at Orr again. His eyes were narrow, and tears were forming in them. He said, "And, what's the point?"
Orr said, "Because..."
But, Tom interrupted him. "What should I have done?"
Orr said, "I'm not saying you did anything wrong. You should apologize because you hurt her."
Tom's mood improved an infinitesimal amount. He said, "She doesn't want to talk to me."
Orr said, "I don't think that not apologizing will help that."
Tom said, "Whatever." He shrugged.
Orr suppressed a sigh and said, "I can't force you to do it. But, I think it's the only chance you've got to save that friendship... If you want to."
Tom nodded. He said, "Yeah. Okay." Then, after a tiny pause, said, "I should probably get back to work."
Orr said, "Okay." He stood. "Let me know if and when you want to hang out. I'm a bit busy, but I'll make time."
Tom said, "Yeah, you and your six classes." He shook his head. "Maybe next weekend."
Orr nodded and said, "Give me a call."
And, he walked out the door.
---
The following Friday, Toff called Orr and asked if he wasn't busy and minded a study partner, and he (without any hesitation) said that he would not mind at all. And, that evening, they ate dinner together and spent the night studying.
At dinner, Toff showed Orr some scrawled notes she had written over the past six days about the game. Mostly, it was a list of names, from "The Modus Pony" to "The Lion-Hearted Oiler" to "Fragley" (who is known to yell, "Frege!" when he gets excited), and so forth. She had also developed something she called a "randomized riddle." That is, any normal riddle in a game would be too easy to solve after a few times playing. Toff's solution was a riddle whose contents depended on a couple of dice. It was based on the classic cannibals and other people trying to cross a river on a boat that can only fit two people. But, the exact characters (and tools) appearing in the Toff's scenario depended completely on dice. First, two cannibals and two logicians are added to side 1, along with the boat; then, the player would roll dice until she rolled a double (both dice having the same side up), and each other roll would add a new character or a new tool, partly depending on other factors in the game, and partly just by luck. For example, a roll of 1 2 might add a child and her parent to side 1, and the child is unwilling to go on a boat without her parent alongside her. Or 4 3 might add a dog on one side and a cat on the other, each of which must be accompanied by a human and which cannot be on the same side unless there are at least three humans to keep them apart. And, so forth. Some such riddles might be impossible (e.g., a roll of 6 2, which brings 2 cows to side 1, neither of which can fit on a boat), and some might be easy (e.g., a roll of 5 6, which brings a hot air balloon to side 1, thus allowing as many as 10 people (or 2 cows) to cross the river at once if they so desire). But, in the end, most would be designed to be challenging in unique ways in any given situation.
Orr listened to these ideas with a growing sense of awe and shame, having not thought about the game at all, and with growing interest because the ideas wrought in him an image of how the game might actually look.
Toff's description of her work took them through dinner, and Orr didn't have to explain that he had not progressed them at all until they began their walk back.
As they left the dining hall, he said, "Well, those are some awesome ideas--I'm sorry that I don't have any to add."
Toff said, "It's okay. You've got lots to do. And, I understand that you've been trying to woo Tom as well." She shot Orr a mischievous grin.
Orr said, "Yeah... Well..."
Toff said, "He's a hard sell."
Orr nodded.
Toff grinned at him again and said, "I hear that you also discussed me with him."
Orr said, "Well..." He realized that it was probably insensitive of him to have talked about her with Tom, and he was about to apologize, but Toff spoke before he had a chance.
She said, "Thanks. I can't say I'm any less angry at him, but it was nice to hear him apologize."
Orr said, "He apologized?"
Toff said, "Yeah, he wrote me a poem."
Orr said, "A poem?"
Toff said, "Yeah, a sonnet."
Orr said, "Wow."
Toff grinned at him for a third time, and this time, he returned her grin, and the two friends laughed together in the cold night.
Then, Toff mentioned the abstract direction that the logic course had taken (including first Russel's definite descriptions and then Frege's sense and reference in order to try to capture the expressive power of natural languages), and Orr took the opportunity to freshen up on the former topic, which he had missed in his initial obsession with Tom.
When the two arrived at Orr's room, Orr was surprised to find a figure huddled against the door, wearing a large coat, scarf, and hat. He thought, at first, that it was Mike, with new clothing, but Toff said, "Hi, Tom!" as they approached. And, when they reached the door, she added, "I'm glad to see you haven't been waiting long."
Tom looked up, uncoiled his scarf to reveal his scraggly face, and said, "Hi, guys!" He stood up.
Orr, dumbfounded, fumbled with his key to open the door and let the two in. He said, "What are you doing here, Tom?"
Tom waited to answer until they were all inside, Orr in his chair, Toff in Mike's, and Tom on the floor, at which point he grinned at Orr and said, "You're, what, the last person not to own a cell phone? You wanted to hang out, but I couldn't get a hold of you, so I had to call Toff here." He smiled at her. "Well, I might have called her before I tried to call you, but the point still stands."
Orr said, "The point?"
Tom said, "So, I hear that we're going to be studying some logic together."
Toff said, "I invited him to join us."
Tom smiled again. He said, "It might not be my most exciting Friday night ever, but I'm excited for it all the same!" And, after a pause, he added, "Should we start with the definite descriptions? I'm sure that they'll show up on the final."
Toff nodded and said, "Okay."
Orr nodded too, not completely sure with what he was agreeing, for his wordless perplexity at seeing Tom had slowly transformed into thoughtful perplexity. Is it really that simple? Are we suddenly friends again, in a matter of a week?
A rising deluge of success was beginning to flood over him, and he blushed. But, even now, when the newness of their time together brought out the forgiving, the jocular, and the generally friendly in all of them, before the quotidian struggles of different personalities and insurmountable pasts once more submerged them into cold emotion, Orr could see that emotion still surging underneath, hiding behind Tom's laugh, and Toff's grins. They were barely looking at each other, and Tom looked at Orr's Adam's apple instead of his face when he spoke to him. A part of Orr hoped that these mild discomforts were also a part of the newness of their experience and that they would soon drift away, but another part worried that the simple friendships of high school could never be relived, that only adult friendships were possible now.
And, even as Orr had this thought, he realized once more that walls were being built around him, limiting what he could do and who he could be. But, now, because he had torn away so much, he looked upon the vast expanse of his belief system and saw it for what it was: an engineering problem, a space where walls needed to be built, but could be built intelligently, self-consciously, and above all, elegantly, and that the resulting person, if designed correctly, could be an elegant mixture of happiness and productivity, of social conformance and individualism, of radical ingenuity and common sense. And, for the first time in over four years, Orr had inadvertently discovered a project worthy of a child prodigy.
He looked up. Tom and Toff were both looking at him quizzically, having perhaps noticed how long he had been silent.
He told a joke about a man made out of jello.
Everybody laughed.
THE END