Reunion at University Avenue, Page 3

  Chapter Three

  SIX MONTHS HAD passed, and as much as things had been different, very little had changed. Mike’s band of rebels, calling themselves the New Democracy Party, had lost the fall elections – indeed lost every Senate seat up for grabs save one, an uncontested seat for on-campus residents. Yet, there was a silver lining in this failure. Much of the old guard in the Gator party had been swept out of office when their terms expired, leaving him as leader of the Senate minority.

  Now, as another campaign approached, everyone expected him to file for re-election, with the only discussion being on which party he would align with – the redefined party of The Circle, the Alliance party, with Aimee Jackson as the presidential nominee and much support from older independents, or the new generation’s SOAR party (which was privately known as Students Opposed to Aimee and Richard).

  The truth about his intentions was not known by anyone, which only fueled the speculation.

  Mike saw his friend from a distance. Rick was reading the on-campus paper, The Free Gator Times, and the expression on his face revealed to Mike which article he was reading at the very moment. It was not a pretty sight.

  The editorial read: “Rick Roberts, like many SG insiders these days, must be anxious about his future. The first day of recruitment into the University’s officially designated student elite has begun, and by the end of the week, several dozen new members will be “tapped” to join The Circle. The only way he can run for Student Body President next year is if he gets in. At least that’s the conventional wisdom. God only knows why these students perpetuate a tarnished organization’s power by pretending that it has any power to begin with. But we wish Rick luck. May he be corrupted by the promise of the kind of prestige that Student Government cannot already provide him.”

  But Mike knew as Rick did, that it could be a nerve-wracking experience for those interested in membership – some people fail repeatedly before be tapped, while others never get in. Several fraternity presidents have tried and failed to gain entry into The Circle. So, a lot of his frat’s ambition rest on his shoulders, and he has only a decent shot of getting in now, on his first try.

  Even more than that, Rick was being pressured by SOAR to turnout the votes of his fraternity and the non-Greeks he can persuade for the upcoming election. Smartly, however, Rick did his best to hide his troubles, even if the effort failed to work on some of his friends.

  Rick grew elated when he saw Mike heading his way. Mike was an example of one of those persuadable he needed to swing over to his side. The idealist would not stop complaining about the election, suggesting that he was torn between two good friends – Richard Lowell on the Alliance ticket, and SOAR’s nominee opposite Aimee Jackson, Kit Moody. He was disgusted with the Alliance campaign tactics and even some of Alliance’s unsavory elements, but struggled with the possibility of splitting his beloved Academic Council in two.

  Rick crumbled the paper, and tossed it into a nearby trashcan. After they met up, Mike offered his opinion: “Relax, being ridiculed by the Times is a ritual we all go through, and the sad thing is it might actually help you get tapped. The Circle, as much anyone else, likes to spite the paper as much as the paper bashed them.”

  “That still guarantees nothing,” Rick said obviously as they moved their way out of the plaza.

  “Of course, but if anyone deserves to be recognized for their work in SG this year, it’s you. The Circle should recognize that.”

  “Too bad you don’t have a vote in there,” Rick pointed out as Mike turned in the direction of the student union, glancing toward the third floor of that infamous building.

  “You know, Rick, there are days… But I almost don’t want to know what goes on in there more than you want to be there.” Mike pulled out his phone and checked the time. “I gotta jet; got class in five minutes.”

  As he walked away, Mike remembered something. “Don’t forget! The Academic Council bash is tonight, downtown!”

  “I’ll be there.” Rick stood and watched his friend pass him by. As a gentle spring breeze rubbed against his skin, Rick shivered. “It’s too cold to be springtime in Florida!” He also thought for a moment that an important opportunity had just walked away from him.

  UNFORTUNATELY, FOR RICK, no one from The Circle called him that day. By evening, he had grown frustrated, even angry with himself and the whole system he had worked with for the last year. The Circle promises a strong career, great connections, and a rich and rewarding life after college – but only if you are picked by its active members.

  Like the fraternity he is a member of, The Circle is cliquish, protective of itself and its members, and would never let go of any perceived transgressions. Even members of The Circle have been known to be tossed out for their lack of solidarity.

  So, when that prestigious leadership honorary never called, he began questioning himself and all his actions and associations over the last two years. He soon sank into the desk chair of his dormitory room. Mike Adams. He was a friend of Mike Adams. That had to be the reason they were denying him membership. Or perhaps it’s because he failed to recruit the persuadable idealist over to their side.

  What can it be?!? Rick was still venting when the “swoosh” sound interrupted his stream of consciousness. An orange envelope had slid underneath the door to his room. He ran to pick it up, and opened the door.

  On the other side of the hall, an entryway door slid shut.

  Damn, just missed him.

  But inside that envelope, he saw a tan-colored piece of paper with a typewritten message: “Join OUR Circle, Rick. Put this on and meet us at Graham Square at 8:20.” Rick leaned over and peeked into the envelope. A gold ring with a unique inscription – in a language Rick didn’t recognize – was inside.

  He tossed the envelope aside and saw the clock.

  Shocked, he spoke out loud to no one in particular. “Shit! I’ve got get across campus in less than five minutes!” None of neighbors blamed him for sprinting across the hall and jumping down the staircase to get out of the building.

  CONTRARY TO POPULAR belief, the Academic Council does know how to throw quite a party – even if their idea of fun has something to do with their chosen major. Of course, the conventional wisdom about the Academic Council’s Treasurer still held true. Mike Adams was uncomfortable in packed rooms with loud, pounding music.

  That is why he volunteered to be the bouncer at the front door to the night club. Well, that and Mike was always interested in seeing what kind of people would be willing to show up at an event sponsored by the Academic Council. Given the way dance parties go, being a bouncer is the only real way to meet everyone that shows up.

  Brrr… This is got to be the only time in history when a night in Florida was actually cold! Mike rubbed his hands together, as he waited the next rush of party-goers to come by and seek entrance.

  Luckily for him, he did not have to quiver under the warmth of his leather jacket for long. A small crowd of people was making its way down to his club, just as another beat-heavy song came to an end inside.

  “Hi! Welcome to the A.C. Bash at 60 Seconds!” he said to the smartly and tightly dressed group of college students. Most of them were not notable, and got the quick wave through. Bennita Jones, however, held back from the group.

  “You volunteered for this job again?!?” she asked him.

  “Hey, you know how much I really like dance music.”

  “Mike, you really have to learn to live a little.”

  “I do just fine. Now, go mingle. Kyle is in there waiting for you.”

  “Is SHE there?” Bennita meant Aimee Jackson, of course. Her distaste for and general lack of trust in the Alliance nominee meant she had sat out this election and kept a low profile even when Richard Lowell, a fellow engineer, was nominated to join Aimee’s ticket.

  “Kyle invited her.”

  “You could have stopped her!” she insisted.

  “Hey, I like her just fine. Besides, I am only suppo
sed to stop people from getting in who aren’t on the list. Not pass political judgments on them.”

  “Oh, fine. Maybe I can find Josh and some of the other old-school people to talk to.”

  Mike let her go and laughed under his breath. Bennita was putting herself into social exile with some of her friends for political reasons, and even Mike found that to be a little silly. I guess she just sees herself as a guardian of our movement, and seeing it for the first time as a losing fight. His mind began to wander, waiting for the next clique to arrive.

  RICK WAS RUNNING late. He knew it, and he was pretty sure Mike knew it. It was not his fault; The Circle was pretty articulate – verbose, even – during the initiation process. Luckily for him, since it was a leadership honorary, they had enough respect for the new recruits to not pull off any fraternity-style hazing. Still, they could have been considerate enough to not drone on like that.

  It was just before midnight when Rick arrived. He felt bad when he noticed Mike had pulled out a stool and a magazine to read – clearly no one had arrived for a good while, and he was getting bored.

  Rick got out of his brand-new SUV and with two chirping sounds, he locked it up. Mike stepped off his stool when he noticed the approach of his friend and colleague. He tossed the magazine on the stool, and stretched out his hand.

  “Rick! Glad you can make it, man!”

  “Hey, I’m happy I finally could.”

  “Let me guess – I was right about the whole thing.”Rick said nothing. That, in of itself, told Mike everything he needed to know.

  To break the apparent ice, Mike asked the obvious question: “How was the initiation?”

  Rick sighed and relented to telling him something. “Good, but long. The conversations were … interesting.”

  “How so?”

  “Well, a lot of the members there talked about possible recruits – and urged us to help out in getting the rest of the tapping class to join.”

  “That doesn’t sound like a normal secret society to me.”

  “Of course not, Mike. You know that. Florida doesn’t have an Ivy League school, so we have no need for the silly rituals that Yale’s Skull and Bones has. But you want to know something?”

  “What?”

  “There was a lot of talk about getting people like you involved. You really should consider applying, regardless of what you might think about us.”

  “You gotta be kidding.”

  “Not at all. They are looking to unite the best and the brightest into a single network of friends. Just because you disagree with some of them politically doesn’t mean The Circle doesn’t think you’d be a good addition to the team.”

  “Ha!” Mike said with a huff. He turned in the direction of campus, and whispered, “It doesn’t really matter anyways.”

  “Why? The Circle could help you become President of the Academic Council.”

  “Because… I accepted… Rick,” he turned to face his friend again, his cheeks reddening with nervous energy. “Georgetown Law School accepted me today. I didn’t want to tell anyone until I resigned from the Student Senate, but I’m leaving Gainesville.”

  “Wow.”

  “I have no regrets, and I’m not looking back. It’s time to move on.”

  Rick didn’t know what to say. He and other friends of Mike had joined a betting pool to gamble on Mike’s future. The odds of Mike leaving Gainesville were easily 100 to 1. This was a shocking twist of fate.

  “Mike…”

  “I know, I know. So, let’s get inside and have some fun – before it’s too late!”

  THE MUSIC, WHILE loud, had softened some since the party had begun. The bar, while stocked, had emptied some of its stores, as well. There were fewer people active on the dance floor, as groups had broken off to do some talking.

  Rick patted Mike on the back and did his own splitting once inside, while Mike went straight to the bar and asked for a Heineken. It was not his favorite form of alcohol, but was the most popular form he cared for.

  “Here’s to the Gator Party,” a familiar voice said as he showed up next to Mike at the bar.

  “May she rest in peace,” Mike said dryly.

  “Hey, we all let her die officially,” Kyle said defensively, “but we kept her going by splitting the establishment in two.”

  Mike turned to face his one-time mentor and glared at him. “Do you really think that’s what has happened?”

  “Yes, and we are on the winning side for a change.”

  “Kyle, if you taught me anything in my 4 years in SG and the Academic Council, it’s that The Circle is relentless, plotting, and deceitful. Our goal may have been to win power, but don’t you think they wanted it that way? And that some of Aimee’s people wanted to use her appeal with you and the others to manipulate us into joining their elite?”

  “Oh, come on, Mike, lighten up! We wanted to change things and Aimee – not Kit – is the person who’ll make it happen for us.”

  “Well, reasonable people can disagree on this.”

  “Yes. And let this not ruin our Council bash, what’s left of it,” Kyle said hurriedly as he rushed over to Aimee’s side as she listened to a group of architectural students.

  Mike, for his part, drifted over to the political science group, who were in the midst of a hardly original contest – for every senator you couldn’t name in alphabetical order, you downed a shot before giving the next person a chance to pick up where you left off.

  He could not help but overhear that Bennita and Adam were chatting together, but he couldn’t hear them because the poli-sci group was roaring with another blunder of a senator’s name.

  “Yes, I agree. He’s too much of an idealist to be anything but disappointed in real politics,” Adam said.

  “So, you really think Ben Savage would be good?”

  “Yeah. Cory on Boy Meets World? A likeable idealist who learns to accept his place in the world. If he’s good as Cory, he’d be good to play Mike in the movie version of SG.”

  Bennita thought about this for a moment, and shook her head. “You know what Ben would have to learn how to act?”

  “Yes. He would need to know how to be an idealist crushed by reality. Huh. Ben Savage playing a cynical bastard. Now that would be funny!” Adam said with a laugh as he dosed another mixed drink.

  IT DID NOT take long for the entire room to learn of Mike’s decision to attend Georgetown Law School in the fall. It shocked them all, as they suspected he would stick around for a few more years as a graduate student. He had clearly changed himself under the noses of everyone he knew, and that left their minds spinning. He had been a sort of a Don Quixote of Student Government. In one swift stroke, he seemed to be the rare addict able to quit politics cold turkey.

  Cynic or not, being outside of The Circle, his life just might have gotten interesting enough to watch.