Chapter 64: You Can Move In With Me
The West VillageRoss's Apartment
"Goodbye, sweetheart." Ross kissed Carol on the cheek and smiled warmly. "Have fun with your friend tonight."
"...Thanks." Carol's smile arrived slightly late. "I'm sure we will."
"Good!" Ross looked at her with the satisfied expression of a man who had just solved something. "You know what I think our problem is?"
Carol waited.
"You don't have enough good friends," Ross said, shaking his head with gentle concern. "Look at me — I have Monica, Chandler, Phoebe. I have a whole group. My outlook on life is completely positive. Nothing gets me down." He placed his hands on her shoulders. "The issue is on your end. Open up more. Spend time with people. I genuinely think that'll fix things between us."
"You might be right," Carol said.
"Of course I'm right." Ross straightened slightly. "I have a PhD."
Carol's smile held.
She had heard about the PhD a significant number of times since Ross had received it. He had a gift for connecting it to any subject regardless of relevance — dinner conversations, passing comments, responses to questions that hadn't asked for it. The period immediately following the graduation ceremony had been particularly intense.
She had eventually said something firm on the subject. Ross had reluctantly scaled back.
He still believed that being called "Doctor Geller" was one of the finer things to happen to any human being, which was his right, but perhaps not every conversation needed to begin there.
"Anyway," Ross said, adjusting his jacket, "have a great time with — what's her name again?"
"Susan," Carol said.
"Right. Susan." He nodded. "What a name."
He left with his chin up, headed to meet his friends.
A Bar in the West Village
"Hey everyone."
Five voices responded simultaneously as Adam walked in.
Monica, Chandler, Ross, Phoebe, and Joey were all at the usual table. Adam had been introduced to the full group gradually over the past few weeks, the alumni connection with Ross and Chandler providing the initial bridge.
Joey was Chandler's new roommate — the handsome Italian guy Monica had championed enthusiastically. The photography teacher arrangement had fallen through due to a complication involving an elderly neighbor and extremely bad timing, and Joey had materialized in the vacancy.
Chandler's initial disappointment had evaporated quickly. Joey shared his taste in television, his enthusiasm for beer, and his capacity for comfortable silence. They'd been close friends within a week.
Phoebe had recently moved out of Monica's apartment, which Monica had only discovered when she opened Phoebe's bedroom door and found it empty. The discovery had affected her mood considerably, and she'd been slightly subdued all evening.
"Nineteen years old and hanging around in bars," Ross said, with the cheerful tone of a man who enjoyed teasing people he'd decided to like. "Is that really responsible?"
"If he weren't hanging out in bars with us, where would he be?" Chandler said. "A coffee shop?"
Everyone laughed.
Adam laughed along, aware that the joke was funnier than anyone at the table currently realized.
"Bars, coffee shops, it doesn't matter," Adam said. "It's about the company."
"I love that," Phoebe said immediately.
Chandler tilted his head in acknowledgment. Joey raised his eyebrows and nodded with the slow gravity of a man who had understood the point completely, though he had arrived there by a different route. Ross and Monica both nodded.
"So how's Columbia?" Phoebe asked. "Is it exciting?"
"Mostly good," Adam said. "The dorms have thin walls."
Chandler and Ross burst out laughing simultaneously. Monica rolled her eyes. Phoebe and Joey exchanged a look of mild confusion. Joey, with the professional instinct of a trained actor, laughed anyway on a short delay, timing it well enough that nobody questioned it.
"You get used to it," Chandler said, still grinning. He clapped Adam on the shoulder. "Eventually."
"I'm actually thinking about finding an apartment nearby," Adam said. "Moving out of the dorm entirely."
He'd done the tax calculation after receiving the advance from Random House. American personal income tax at his bracket was significant, and the money was sitting in his account doing nothing useful. The most straightforward solution was to redirect it into rent, which was both practical and tax-relevant.
It was the first time he'd genuinely understood why Americans tended to spend rather than save. When a large percentage of idle money disappeared into taxes anyway, spending it on something useful started to look like the rational choice.
Monica sat up straight.
"Move in with me," she said.
The table looked at her.
She pointed at the general direction of upstairs. "Phoebe just left. The room is empty. I need a roommate. You need an apartment. The building is right here." She spread her hands as if the logic was self-evident. "It's perfect."
End of Chapter 64
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