They al got tickets to a concert at the old steel factory down the street, to see a young, handsome singer who wrote tortured love songs and whined about the troubles of being twenty-five. Their friend Isabel a was visiting from New York, and she came over before the concert to drink beers on the porch, but al she did was wander around and say, “This place is huge. Your apartment is huge.”

“Yeah, we like it,” Lauren said.

“No,” Isabel a said. “You have no idea. You should see my apartment in New York. It’s teeny. And expensive. This place is a mansion.”

“Then move here,” Lauren told her. “Move to Chicago!” Isabel a just smiled and continued to look around in wonder.

Lauren and Shannon were in a fight that started when Shannon cal ed Lauren a slob. “Isabel a, don’t you think it’s disgusting when someone leaves Q-tips on the sink?” Shannon asked. Isabel a shook her head and kept quiet.

“You’re the one who sits in that bathroom for an hour and plucks your hairy eyebrows,” Lauren said. “If anyone’s a pig, it’s you.”

Isabel a just smiled and looked happy that she didn’t have to weigh in. Now Lauren and Shannon were sitting on the porch, sighing and scoffing to let everyone know that they weren’t speaking to each other.

El en was in the kitchen pouring wine when Isabel a asked her, “So, have you seen Louis since he’s been back?”

It was like a movie: El en spil ed her wine, Isabel a jumped, and Lauren and Shannon forgot they were ignoring each other and looked at each other with wide eyes.

“Louis is back?” El en asked.

“Yeah.” Isabel a made a face. “Sorry, El en. I thought you knew.”

El en shook her head and swal owed some wine. “No,” she said. “I didn’t know.”

“Sorry,” Isabel a said again. “I just assumed he would have cal ed you. I saw Phil last weekend and told him I was coming here for the weekend and he mentioned it. He just got back a couple weeks ago. I’m sure he was going to cal you.”

They al looked at El en, who was now calmly drinking her wine. Lauren could tel that she wasn’t upset. Surprised, yes. But not upset. They’d known El en long enough to be able to read her mood by the way she held herself, and right then, she was as straight as a pole, alert, and excited.

“Fuck,” Shannon said softly.

“Yeah,” Lauren answered. “I know.”

They went to the concert, where Lauren and Shannon made up, then got in a fight again when Shannon forgot to watch the Porta-Potty Lauren was in, and let a man open the door, which had a broken lock. “Everyone in line saw me with my pants down,” Lauren screamed.

“So what’s new?” Shannon asked.

They went to a bar cal ed Life’s Too Short near the old Cabrini-Green buildings. The whole area was under construction and the streets were lined with half-built condos and shel s of townhouses. Because nothing was around it, the bar paid no attention to the city’s rules about shutting down by four a.m. The bartenders let everyone stay in the bar’s outdoor area. Nothing good ever came of this, but they kept going back.

They sat in a corner of the patio where they could see everyone that walked in. They were fascinated with watching Margaret Applebee, a girl

they knew from col ege. She’d always been kind of fat, but had dropped about forty pounds that year and was, according to Shannon, “whoring it up al over town.” She was talking to their friend Mitch McCormick, pressing herself against his arm, and they were al waiting for him to tel her to go away.

“Who does she think she is?” Shannon asked. “Like Mitch would ever be interested in her. It’s so embarrassing.”

“She’s persistent, though,” Lauren said. “You gotta give her that.”

“I don’t even recognize her,” Isabel a said. “She lost forty pounds? She’s a whole different person.”

None of them saw Louis walk in. They were al so focused on the Margaret Applebee fiasco that they didn’t notice him until he was standing at their table saying, “Hey, El en.” El en tried to smile and then immediately burst into tears.

“She’s real y drunk,” Lauren said to Louis.

He took her by the arm and led her away from them. Now they watched the two of them, heads bent together, talking quietly to each other.

“Oh shit,” Shannon said. “Margaret Applebee is gone. We missed it. Where’s Mitch?”

El en came back over to the table, crying harder now. She couldn’t real y talk, but they could guess what had happened.

“He’s a jackass,” Lauren said.

“He’s not worth it.” Isabel a rubbed El en’s back.

“You should just forget him,” Lauren said.

“I think Mitch went home with Margaret Applebee,” Shannon said.

El en was up and out before any of them the next morning, and she came back to the apartment with Bloody Mary ingredients, a large block of cheddar cheese, and a log of summer sausage.

“I’m sorry, you guys,” she said. “For how I freaked out last night.”

“No worries,” Shannon said. She’d already made herself a Bloody Mary and was now cutting off hunks of cheese and sausage to shove in her mouth. Isabel a lay on the couch, listening to the conversation. She was too hungover to move, but made a noise and motioned for some cheese and sausage. Lauren cut some off and brought it over to her.

“I cal ed Louis this morning to apologize to him too,” El en told them.

“Why?” Shannon asked.

“Because I want to be friends,” El en said. “I at least want to be friends with him.”

“Do you think that wil work?” Lauren asked.

“I think it’s my only choice,” she said. They were quiet for a few moments.

“There’s something weird about summer sausage,” Shannon said.

“There’s a lot of things weird about summer sausage,” El en said.

“It should be disgusting,” Lauren said. “I mean, you leave it wrapped up and unrefrigerated forever, but when you open it, it’s stil delicious. It’s one of the great world wonders.”

“I think it’s curing my headache,” Isabel a said. She tried to sit up and then lay right back down. “Never mind,” she said.

“I think you guys might stil be a little drunk,” El en said.

Later, they al agreed that she was a disaster waiting to happen.

Lauren met Tripp at a bar in Bucktown that had maps al over the wal s and pool tables in the corner. He wasn’t much, but she kept seeing him. For her birthday, he gave her gift certificates to the bar downstairs and a dirty romance novel that you buy at a grocery store. “I know you like to read,”

he told her. The card read Dear Lorin, Happy Birthday. Sincerely Tripp.

“Do you think he knows he spel ed your name wrong?” El en asked.

“He didn’t even put an exclamation point after ‘Happy Birthday,’ ” Shannon said. She frowned at the card. “So serious. Happy Birthday—period.”

“I’m just cal ing because I’m bored,” Lauren explained to her friends when she dialed his number.

“You must be,” they answered.