CLANDESTINE : Spencer Reid

35

JJ moved out of the apartment she shared with her roommates a few months ago. She could afford more space, she said, so why not have it? I get the feeling this is the last New Year’s Eve people in the office will share together. Garcia told me before we left on December thirtieth that she’s going to be sneaking out thirty minutes earlier and to make sure Morgan is distracted when she does. Prentiss seems to be coming along because the rest of us are. I get the feeling Morgan might dip out earlier too, since he’s been talking about some yacht party his friend has an in with.

            I realize I need actual friends, since it seems like I’m staying in DC for at least the next year. During that time, I’ll get PhD applications together, or something. Figure out where I’m going next. Even in the new apartment, I’m out of new ways to get to work. The path is too familiar.

            Getting to JJ’s apartment takes too long and I’m freezing. This year, the dress code was festive cocktail, and JJ basically told us all the expectation is sequins and sparkle. Maybe people don’t want to come because the dress code is so flashy for a cramped apartment with coworkers. Maybe, like me, these people don’t really have private relationships outside of work.

            When I get buzzed in, I huddle against myself in the elevator.

            I feel ridiculous. My arms are cold. I never wear red since I think it’s a bit much. I’m trying to convince myself that the colour is deep enough that it’s fine. The colour of a pomegranate. Really, I hate those more than the pants, a flashy black and silver sequin mess. Honestly, they are cute, even if I will never wear them again.

            JJ opens the door to the apartment. She’s wearing a black shirt with feathers and velvet pants. What I’m wearing seems appropriate.

            “You made it,” she smiles at me.

            I step inside after her. I didn’t want the hassle of searching for my jacket like last year. No cabs were available, so I took the subway and walked, and it was terrible. I clench my jaw to keep my teeth from chattering as JJ brings me to the dining room table.

            Tonight, I only brought a flask, and I’m only letting myself drink mixed drinks from it. I’m pacing myself. People are chatting, laughing, the music playing. A few people are already dancing, which didn’t happen until much later into the evening last time. Although, I suppose that I showed up later too.

            “The team is probably in that corner,” JJ points out. “Pour yourself a drink and then come meet us!”

            “Okay,” I have to talk loudly to get her to hear me. Some of the noise is coming from an adjacent apartment I think. That, or the beat to this song is really fucking weird.

            I do make a drink, but when I try to find out where the team is, I get mixed up in the crowd. It’s getting hot in here. I snake my way along the walls, and I’m sure that none of them are here. I have a drink, and then another. Whatever lights JJ’s friends brought to illuminate this place with a variety of colours, and mixed in with the colourful outfits and sparkling clothing, I feel a headache coming on.

            “Bouchard!”

            I turn my head.

            Reid’s head peeks out from above the crowd. I stick up my hand to wave at him. It’s difficult, but I push my way through the crowd of girls who are blocking my way. With him are all the others.

            “My shot friend!” Morgan laughs, wrapping an arm around my shoulder and pulling me into him tightly.

            I put a hand on his chest, “yeah, not tonight. I’m getting old like you.”