“Friendly. People drift, people fade in and out of your life.” Doug still had a strong group of friends from college. Even though it was amicable for the most part, the divorce forced people to take a side. They were always on Doug’s side, though. The friends Walker gained when he and Doug began dating left just as easily.
“You know what’s cool, though? Really cool.” Walker leaned closer and caught hints of Cameron’s familiar cologne. “No matter how long it’s been, how many years, when I see people from college, it’s like we’re twenty again. All the memories and the jokes, and even the drama, come back like they just happened.”
“Big problem.” Henry joined them outside. Walker didn’t know how he wasn’t gasping for air in his fitted v-neck sweater. “The keg is kicked, and Jordan is hoarding the rest of his alcohol. He did this whole monologue about us being freeloaders.”
“Can we get some more?” Cameron asked.
“The stores are closed.”
“You know, there is the wine,” Walker said.
Cameron and Henry traded looks.
“It’s actually really good. Trust me on this.” Walker was determined to prove his worth. Wine’s worth.
He moved between them back into the kitchen, which was empty now that there was no more alcohol to be had. He found his bottle of wine on its side tucked in a napkin holder.
Henry passed him a fresh Solo cup. Walker searched Nolan’s drawers and came up with a thin steak knife. He twisted the knife into the cork, Macgyvering it into a corkscrew.Would they even know what Macgyvering means?
“You see, wine gets better with age. Hard alcohol is all well and good now, but once you’re meeting friends after work for a drink or going to dinner parties or regular parties, where it isn’t about who can get wasted the fastest, you will realize,” he uncorked the wine and took in the sharp aroma. “That wine is your friend.”
Walker poured himself and the others a cup. “It’s the classy, and surprisingly economical way to get buzzed. You can pick up a decent bottle for five bucks.”
“I do love being classy, y’all,” Cameron said.
“And when you come home from a long day of teaching kids or shuffling papers in a cubicle, a glass of wine can take the edge off.” He handed over the cups to Cameron and Henry. They hung on his every word.Behold the power of wine.
“It smells like my parents,” Henry said.
“That’s natural. That feeling will go away, I promise you.” Walker raised his cup. The others followed. He glanced at Cameron, who flashed him a knowing smile. “To you, gentlemen. To the future. To getting wasted like an adult.”
They cheers’d. Wine soothed Walker’s throat and coated his stomach like the old pal would.
“That’s some good shit,” Henry said.
Cameron nudged Walker’s shoulder. “Way to go, Wine Guy.”
Henry held up his cup again. “To the Wine Guy.”
Φ
That became Walker’s name for the rest of the night. Wherever he went, “Hey Wine Guy!” It was like he had introduced these kids to texting. Their lives would never be the same.
He relaxed on a ratty couch with Cameron and other students talking about old professors. Many of them hadn’t changed; a few had gotten worse. This didn’t feel so weird anymore. He was talking to people at a party. Age was irrelevant. He was the Wine Guy.
“Hey Wine Guy, what are your thoughts on Two Buck Chuck?”
“I think it’s okay. Great when you’re twenty-three and broke, but as you get older, you realize the value in paying slightly more for something slightly better.”
Walker thought back to all the college parties he attended as a student. Not much had changed. Even with people looking at their smartphones every two seconds and pulling up clips, it was still about people talking and connecting.
“Oh shit!” Nolan yelled. Blue and red lights from outside lit up his face. “It’s the cops!”
People ran over each other to escape or find refuge. It hit Walker that he was at a party with underage people, many of whom had drank wine he brought.
“Fuck on a stick.” Cameron jumped up. He pulled Walker down the hall. People crowded into the kitchen.
“The back porch?” Walker asked.
