On an Edge of Glass

test.”
    “And to take you out to lunch,” Ainsley adds.
    “ And to bring you this,” Mark says.  He hands me a stuffed animal.
    I look down at the small brown fluffy thing in my hands.  “What is this?  Is it… ” I turn it over to examine the other side.  “A hedgehog ?” 
    Mark puts his hands up in the air and rolls his eyes dramatically.  “I, too, am completely baffled by the significance of the hedgehog, but Miss Ainsley here insisted on it instead of something useful like a pocket protector, or a foot warmer, or eyeglass cleaner.”
    I’m shaking my head and smiling.  “I don’t even wear glasses.”
    Mark’ s shoulders lift.  “Still would have been more practical than a fuzzy hedgehog.”
    Ainsley sticks out her tongue at him and throws back a lock of blonde hair.  “Mark, I explained before that the hedgehog doesn’t represent anything or serve any logical purpose.  It’s simply cute for the sake of cuteness.”
    Mark gives me a see-what-I’ve-been-dealing-with look.
    Payton laughs and pulls my arm in the direction of the parking lot.  “Come on,” she says, digging her keys out of her purse.  “I’m completely starved.”
    “ Me too.”  Mark swings my hand in his.  “I think that we should go to that new Greek place over on Westwood.  The hedgehog says he’s heard they have an excellent baklava.”
    Ainsley giggles and slides her sunglasses down her nose.  “Oh Mark, you’re too much.”
     
     
    “So, how was it?” Payton asks after we’ve ordered our drinks.
                  We’re in a courtyard that’s been outfitted with one of those canvas tent coverings so that it can be used even once the weather turns cool.  There are dozens of potted plants of varying heights positioned around the tables.  An elaborate outdoor fountain burbles soothingly in the center of the stone and stucco patio.  Two low-slung brick walls, nearly being swallowed by creeping ivy, curve around both sides of the space like parenthesis.     
                  “Honestly, it wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be,” I say, unfolding a napkin on my lap.  “Don’t get me wrong—my brain is throbbing like it’s just been flattened by a zamboni, but I feel like it could have been worse.”
                  Ainsley crinkles her nose.  “What in the world is a zamboni?”
                  “It’s one of those machines that resurfaces the ice at a skating rink,” Mark replies matter-of-factly.
                  “Ohhhh, okay…”
                  “Anyway, back to the test…” Payton redirects, rolling her hand in the air.  She’s wearing three different gaudy rings and a bracelet cuff with a smiling panda bear emblazoned in the center.  “How do you think you did on it?”
                  I look up and let out a big breath.  “I won’t know for a few weeks but it felt okay, you know?” I realign my fork and knife so they’re perpendicular to the edge of the table.  “I had some difficulty with one section but overall, I think I did fine.”  This is not entirely true.  I struggled more than I thought that I would.
                  “Brian and Pam will be happy,” Payton says, taking a sip from her glass.
                  “Totes,” Ainsley chimes in.
                  Brian and Pam are my parents—the power-suit-wearing mega lawyers. 
    “Well, I care more about what the admission panel at Columbia thinks,” I say tersely, trying not to let my brain linger on how I probably should have been studying last night instead of kissing Ben. 
    I smooth out my napkin again a nd fiddle with my phone.  The waitress arrives with a pad in hand and we order and debate whether or not to get hummus and pita chips for the table.
                  Mark decides, swishing his hand out and saying definitively, “I think it’s always a good idea to err on the side of hummus.” 
                  Who can argue with that?
                  What happens next is that we start talking, and then the dishes of food are brought out until our table is overflowing with Greek cuisine.  We’re passing around the hummus, and the stuffed steamed grape leaves that Ainsley bravely ordered. I laugh at a story that Payton tells with her mouth half-full. 
    When the waitress makes a stop at our table, w e ask for a round of ouzo even