"Hoorayy!!" we all cheer, surrounding her and clapping to the beat. We form a little parade into the common room, where we all gather round and follow Dee-Dee's lead as she cranks up the volume and begins to dance even faster. So caught up are we in the celebration that we don't even notice the approach of Don Henley until it is too late.
"Dee-Dee!!!" He bellows over the din. "Turn that DOWN!"
Dee-Dee stumbles in surprise, then offers a cheery "Happy St. Patrick's Day, Mr. Henley!" tipping her hat as she mutes the stereo.
He ignores her, his gaze sweeping around the room, "And the rest of you. It's 8:15. Get to class!"
Grumbling, we mobilize, taking solace in the fact that it is Wednesday, which means only a half day of school.
The minute classes end we are out of there, a green clad troupe composed of me, Chastity, Rose, and Dee-Dee parading merrily down the streets.
"Joyeuse Fete de Saint Patrice!!" She calls out to passerby on the streets, before deciding that the sentiment is completely wasted on the incredulous French.
"Happy St. Patrick's Day!" She bellows as we come barreling around the corner of Park Thabor.
"The same to you!" someone answers, which stops us dead in our tracks. We look around to see a handsome young man smile mischievously at us before continuing on into the park.
We claim a table outside O'Connell's and promptly order a round of beers. We're proud to be told that we're officially the first St. Patrick's Day revelers and enthusiastically agree to having our picture taken for the pub's wall. The sun is beating down wonderfully and I hardly even mind it when we are joined by Graham, my ultimate nemesis. His pint of beer renders him unfit to rollerblade; he has to make his way unsteadily to the nearest bus stop instead.
Every so often Dee-Dee gets up and treats us and the other customers to a jig, until her boombox begins to run out of batteries. We are saved for entertainment by the arrival of a parade, which settles in the square across from us. The music, the dancing, the sun, the Irish coffee.... all is truly right with the world.
Sadly, our party breaks up when Dee-Dee has to go home for an early dinner with her family, so Rose, Chastity, and I drown our sorrows in a nearby hookah bar. Then, we decide to bring an appropriate end to this day by heading for our favorite place in Rennes. With the tipsiness, sunstroke, and mint colored smoke swirling together in a magical giddy haze, we frolic the springtime cobblestones to Chez Guerin. At the corner of the street just before Chastity's neighborhood, we have a moment. We realize that it's March.
"You guys," Chastity says softly as we stare at the Citroens and Peugeots making their way up St. Helier, the woman at the other end of the crosswalk holding her baguette, the flowers, the buildings, the canal.... "I don't ever want to leave."
That night there was dancing back at O'Connell's, and Chastity and her host sisters and Rose and I went, festooned in green. Rasheed was there, but not Donovan, and so it was a very lively, bright sort of night, with all the beers clinking and music playing and green beads and confetti and laughter and dance. Both of Chastity's host sisters got very drunk, even the sensible one.
Since it was a celebration sort of night, Rasheed and I splurged and took a town car back to Betton.
"I'm in love with Rrrrrrrrrrose!" He trilled, lolling around in the backseat.
"Who isn't?" I said grumpily.
There was a full moon out, and it rose high over the countryside as we accelerated onto the open road.
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