The Studs Lonigan Trilogy - James T. Farrell [186]
After the dance Red said:
“It’s hell dancing with a broad as tantalizing as Fran Reilley. She knows she’s got everything and it just teases your pants off. She eggs you into thinking you can get away with murder, and then pulls herself away and goes right on talking as if she didn’t even think of what she was doing. Then she starts it all over again. Christ, Studs, she drives you into utter misery.”
“Yep, Red, she’s luscious.”
“The guy who gets her is getting his jack’s worth. Only nobody will do it without the ring. She knows how to play her game,” Red said, half in tribute.
“Hello, fellows,” Larkin said, offering a limp, sweaty hand that made Studs feel as if he was grasping a chunk of contaminated meat. He greeted Larkin with condescension.
“Gee, I’m glad you came, because we all want to get behind Father Gilhooley in the drive to raise funds for the new church.”
Studs and Red gave each other the wink.
“Studs, how’s it going?”
“Nothing to complain about,” Studs replied disinterestedly.
“Well, I hope that now we’ll be seeing a lot of you, and Kelly, too.”
“That goddamn fat slob,” Studs sneered, as Larkin walked away.
Another dance started. Studs hesitated about asking her. Fran came up to him and demanded that he dance with her. He saw that she was with a sappy-looking guy he didn’t know. The bird was taller than he, but he’d take him on. He saw himself meeting the guy out on the street, asking him, Are you tough? and letting him have something he wouldn’t forget very easy. He danced a bit woodenly, and Fran made it worse, because she kept leading him. She made a dirty crack about Fran Reilley. Studs guessed good-looking broads were that way about other broads. After the dance, she told him he wouldn’t be a bad dancer at all, if he got more practice. She went off to join Fran Reilley and some other girls. He looked around until he saw the girl walking towards the other wall with the sappy-looking egg. He felt she’d notice him if he kept looking at her, and he might seem like a goof. He watched Austin join the group around his sister, Fran. Austin talked. He heard them laugh. What the hell could they see to laugh at in anything Austin said?
“Hello, Studs! Say, I’m glad to see you, just like old times,” Johnny O’Brien said, smiling, shooting his arm up as if a button had been pressed, and giving Studs the collegiate hand-shake. Studs remembered that Johnny had been a fat, husky kid. Now he was thin, pale, a bit lifeless. Johnny asked him what he was doing. Studs told him.
“I’m over at the U. Belong to Kappa Psi now. Come on over some time, and I’ll introduce you to the boys. Fine bunch of brothers, they are.”
“Say, I hear they’re anti-Catholic at the University. First thing you know, you’ll be losing your religion,” Studs said, kidding to make talk; he saw that the sappy-looking guy was walking away.
‘Well, some of the professors are. You know, they believe in evolution and teach it in their classes, and say things against the church, but, of course, that doesn’t affect me. And the fellows in my frat, say, Studs, they’re all swell fellows. I’d like to have you meet them.”
“You’re all dressed up like Joe College,” Studs said, letting his glance wander. She was dancing with Larkin, smiling at something the mush-face said. Somebody ought to take a picture of the guy. Johnny continued speaking.
“Now, you take this suit. As I said, it’s new, first time I wore it. Had it made to order at Jerrems, seventy-five bucks. That’s the way I believe in getting clothes, if you want to be really well-dressed. Pay for them and get clothes that fit properly and make you look distinguished. You can always tell what kind of a guy a fellow is, and how he rates, from the clothes he wears. A lot of guys you know have enough suits to