The bartender walked up to John and met him on the opposite side of the bar. Before she could ask, he answered, “I’ll have the Hutch.”

        She nodded and reached under the bar to grab a pint glass and walked over a few steps to pour a beer from the tap. As she did so, John’s eyes drifted toward the bottles of liquor behind her. The afternoon sunlight streamed through the windows, making the brilliant amber of the whiskeys smolder and the crystal-clear vodkas and gins gleam.  The bartender returned and set down a bubbly glass. She then turned and grabbed one of the fiery bottles and a shot glass. While she poured, John put the $7.50 on the bar. He took the small glass and downed the whiskey, lingering in the burn before taking the pint and occupying his booth in the corner.

        He took a sip of the beer and felt the gentle, cold liquid fizzle its way down his throat. He couldn’t help but let out an audible ah as he eased the glass down on a coaster. A few seconds later, John took the glass again and took a few gulps, tilting his head further back with each swallow, eyes closed. He felt the cold beer flow through him like holy water over an infant’s head. He set the glass back down and met eyes with a familiar face in the window. It was an old friend. They spent all their time together last year when John was still in school, before he ran with a different crowd. The friend waved with a smile and took a seat across from John.

        “Hey, John,” he said while taking off his backpack. “Do you not have class today?”

        “No, I don’t,” John said he as rotated the glass on the table with one hand. “What are you up to?”

        His friend perked up and said, “I’m about to go study for the big test. It’s only a month away, so I have to get going on that. On my last practice test I only got…”

        John looked down at the beer while his friend droned. The playful bubbles, one after another, jumped from the bottom of the straw-colored liquid to meet the remaining foam. He looked back up at his friend and took the last couple gulps of the beer before interrupting.

        “Look, I know all about the big test. You know I know all about the big test. Last year I was exactly where you are before it all went to shit. Do we have to go over this every time I’m in here?”

        “I was just going to say that if I only improve just a few points, I have a pretty good shot at Cambridge next year,” the friend said hopeful as ever.

        “Cambridge isn’t everything. You can have a perfectly fine life without Cambridge,” John spat.

        “Well, sure, but it’s a great school, and there will be some great opportunities for me if I get in.”

John exhaled as he pressed his palms on the table to help himself slide out of the booth and said, “I’m going to head to the bathroom and get another drink.”

        John ambled toward the restroom until he felt that his friend was gone. He reverted his path back to the bar, and this time, he didn’t wait for the bartender to arrive.

        “Can I get another Hutch?”