Snapshots of a Simple Life: The Club on Friday Eve

 

Photo by cottonbro from Pexels

My life in Colorado has brought numerous experiences I’ve wanted to write about while simultaneously requiring all of the brain power I would have used to write about them. Thus (as some of you have noticed) the blog has suffered. Usually when this happens, it’s because my expectations are too high, so I’ve decided to pull out this series of little sketches from my days to introduce you to the people and places I am learning to call “home.” I hope they bless you ;)

On the last day of September, the autumn chill takes hold full force, and the mere suggestion of meeting outside makes Madeleine bare her teeth. We find ourselves creeping into the chapel instead, feeling more like youth group kids than grad students with real, adult lives. The boys pull out chairs, but we all end up sitting on the floor.

We make each other laugh. This is my favorite thing about our group. The personalities are wildly different, but the connection still holds, has held ever since the first week of classes when we were randomly thrown together.

“I feel like you were one of the cool kids in undergrad,” Joel says, looking at Madeleine.

“What even, no way.” She shakes her head, but I smirk because we’ve all thought the same thing. With her black patent leather booties and perfect bangs, Madel exudes seemingly effortless cool-ness.

“Actually,” Joel amends, “I feel like you’re one of the cool kids now.”

“Let’s stop talking about this,” she says, turning to me. “How’s your job?”

Our conversation ping-pongs as always; we are tired and can’t stay on one topic. This is the part of class where we’re meant to talk theology, but we always end up talking life instead. Ellie tells us about a weekend date.

“I saw your post!” I say, and Joel is instantly pulling out his phone to look.

“Aw, you guys are so cute!” Joel holds up the photos. I am becoming increasingly convinced that he is the most basic white girl I know. “Are you the only one of us in a relationship?” he asks, looking around at all of us.

The rest of us nod.

“What are your types?” Madel asks, eager as a middle schooler.

“Oh gosh…” Jesse’s gaze darts out of the circle.

“Jesse, I wanna hear your type!” I exclaim, catching him before he can change the subject.

And now again, we are off on another tangent. Ever the extravert, Joel begins informing us about the things he looks for in a girl. When he says “brunette,” Ellie glances at me and nods. I frown at her and she grins.

Madeleine says something about finding “skeletons in the closet” attractive. “Attracted to trauma,” Joel teases.

“We’re counseling students,” I say. “That’s literally all of us.”

We dissolve into peals of laughter once again. Our time always ends too quickly, leaving us forever on the edge of knowing each other. I think that’s why we float on the surface, maybe even part of why we laugh so much. We have yet to earn each other’s trust.

And yet. The next week rolls around and we dip our toes in again. It’s worth the risk. Madeleine asks her deep question. Jesse shares his strong opinion. I get a chance to quote the Screwtape Letters. Slowly but surely, we come more into ourselves before each other, and every week I look forward to another glimpse.

Mostly, my connections come from church, or the gym—places that are more accessible in my day-to-day, in contrast to the yawning commute I make twice a week to school. But when people from home ask if I’m making friends, they are asking about classmates. And delightfully, with these four gorgeous faces in my mind, I always get to answer yes.