by Jamie Knight
From across the quad I hear another voice call out. It’s Sarah and she’s saying my name.
“Lindsay!” she calls loudly.
I fight back the tears and compose myself by taking a few deep breaths. Sarah and her friends surround me.
“That was wild,” Madison says. “We could see it all from across the quad. You have some spirit there, sister.”
“I can’t believe you grabbed him!” Sarah exclaims. “He looked so surprised. You are quite the tigress.”
Wait, what is happening? Why are they acting nice to me?
“I don’t know if I could have done that,” Alison says. “He’s a big boy.”
“With big muscles,” Madison says coyly. “He is a specimen of a man.”
“I wish he was my boyfriend,” Milli chimes in. The rest nod and they all look like they are daydreaming about Brent.
Are they acting this way because they like me? Or are they only interested in being friends since I know Brent? Does it really matter? I mean, the goal is to get popular and have people to hang out with. Now it is apparently happening. Does the ends really justify the means?
It’s been so long since anyone has been interested in anything I’m doing. I’m just going to enjoy the attention for now and worry about everything else later.
Chapter Four
Brent
Four years ago…
I want to offer my new friend, Robert, a ride back to his home for Christmas Break, but I’m not sure how to ask in a non-offensive way. The guy doesn’t have enough money for a plane ticket and is barely scrounging by to get a ticket for a bus ride. What kind of trip would that be? Two days sitting on a bus doesn’t sound like much fun to me.
For one thing, from what I’ve seen and read online, how can you sleep upright in those chairs with strangers all around you? And stopping at random places, eating food out of vending machines, seemingly random 3am layovers spent waiting to transfer to another coach. It must be a draining, grueling, and unpleasant experience. And I can save him from that, so I might as well suggest a road trip.
Robert grew up poor. I can tell he worked hard to get here and still works his butt off to just survive. He cuts the corners he has to to get by. He has probably eaten ramen noodles out of a cup for a month just to fill his belly so he can save the rest of his budget to pay for bus fare. He’s got real determination and I like that in a friend.
Personally, I will never know what that’s like, to struggle that way, to have to be mindful of every dollar spent. But I’ll also never know that kind of fortitude. It has to build character. I have to imagine you make a choice to either be positive and keep moving ahead, doing your best to improve your station, or you give up and idle through life. Robert is the former, otherwise I would never be considering asking him to join me on this journey. He’s a winner and I like winners.
I walk into his dorm hall and take the stairs. It’s always good to get a little extra exercise when you can. I run up to the 7th floor and head down his hallway. There’s hip hop music being blasted out of a room. I walk by and instantly start tapping my feet to the beat. I turn the corner and see Robert’s dorm. This is definitely the quieter section on this floor. This is where actual studying takes place. His door is open, but I knock on it anyway.
“Hey, Man,” I say, waltzing into his room and flopping into the threadbare beanbag chair by his bed.
“Brent,” he says with a nod, never taking his eyes off the book he is reading. He is indeed studying, just as I figured he would be.
“What’cha got going on?” I ask. I lean back into the beanbag and put my hands behind my head.
“Just studying for the Biology test,” he answers. “Can’t believe they’re springing one on us right before Christmas Break. Don’t they know that our heads aren’t completely here?”
“They do need to work on when they give out tests,” I say with a laugh. “You’d think with all of the scientific know-how that exists across all academia they would have figured out the optimal time of the day and the best month to test students on their knowledge and abilities.”
“Exactly!” he says turning to me and closing the book. “They should also apply that methodology to middle school and high school. Back then we had to get up way too early. Sleep deprivation was a big deal. I think it affected our performance.”
“Look at us,” I say with a chuckle. “We’re just a couple of science nerds.”
“So true,” he says joining in on the joke.
The laughter provides a good pause in the discussion. Time now to broach the subject. Hopefully he will be able to swallow his pride and agree to come.
“I actually came up here to ask you something,” I say. “What do you think about going on the great All-American road trip?”
“What do you mean?” he inquires.
“I mean for Christmas Break I drive you back home cross-country. We pack up a couple of bags, jump in my car, and hit the open road,” I explain.
“Oh, I don’t know if I could put you out like that,” he says with a frown. “Besides, I think I’m just going to take the bus.”
“Nonsense,” I argue, pulling forward and putting my hands on my knees. “Your hometown is actually on the way to mine, if I’m not mistaken, so I can drop you off, and then I can pick you up on the drive back.”
I can see him thinking about it. He has to be considering just how awful two days on the Greyhound would be. I am not in his situation, but I do know about his pride. But wouldn’t it be nicer to cruise in a Ferrari? With your bestest buddy, after all? Isn’t it worth setting aside not wanting to “put someone out” and giving it a go?
Besides, I’ve been really wanting to take the Ferrari out for a long run for quite a while now. Having a wingman would be helpful in not only passing the time, but also if any problems arise along the way. It’s always good to have someone with you to back you up.
“I don’t know,” Robert says, his fingers gripping the back of his chair. “The bus won’t be that bad.”
I roll my eyes at him. “Robert, we’ll be out there on the freeway with total freedom,” I tell him. “We can do whatever we want! You gotta come with me.”
“It does sound like a nicer experience,” he says, smiling slightly. “But really, I seriously don’t want to put you out.”
“Look, I can really use the company,” I state my case further. “Plus, it will be an epic adventure. The ultimate road trip you can tell your grandkids about. What do you say?”
He laughs. “Grandkids! You crack me up. But okay… Alright, let’s do it!” he says finally agreeing. He reaches over and fist bumps me. “And thank you, Man. I really appreciate you asking. It sounds like it will be a blast.”
“Oh, it’s going to be awesome,” I confirm with confidence.
The next week break starts, and we load up the car and head out. We had to pack light as there is only a bit of space in the trunk, and in the backseat, which is really just there for show. No way anyone could ever ride back there, at least, not for a long drive. But the good news is we’re just a couple of guys and do we really to lug a bunch of stuff around anyways? Best to play it fast and loose -- we’re young, after all!
After we hit the road and revel in the sweet air of freedom. We sort through some music playlists and realize we like a lot of the same groups. Always helps when your musical tastes are similar.
As we head down the freeway, we chat about our life goals. I want to become a doctor and help people. Turns out Robert wants to do the same thing and is going to major in Biology. We even more alike and in synch than I had originally thought. But there is one commonality that we don’t share, and that is wealth.
I don’t have any other friends like Robert. He grew up with practically nothing and worked hard to get into school. But even with this information, when we do pull onto his hometown and onto his street, and I finally see where he lives, it is a bit of a shock.
It’s a rundown duplex in a part of town that�
�s better days are far in the past. At one point this might have been a thriving area, but now there are boarded-up businesses, potholed marked streets, unkempt yards, and falling apart apartment complexes and houses.
I’m actually a little nervous driving through here. I also feel like kind of a jerk. The price of my car is more than most of these people will make in ten years. It doesn’t sit right with me, but here we are, and I am going to follow-through with it. I have to hide my shock as not to be rude.
We park out on the street. Robert takes a deep breath and turns to me.
“You don’t have to go in if you don’t want to,” he says.
“Nonsense, I’d be happy to meet your parents,” I assure him, a smile plastered to my face.
“Okay,” he says while managing a smile of his own.
We get out of the car. I can’t help but look around the neighborhood as I click the doors locked. I wish I wasn’t so worried about my baby getting broken into, but I do. It feels like a target out here in the open. But I told Robert I would go in and I am a man of my word.
Robert’s parents meet us at the door. They seem like nice people. His father is dressed in a white t-shirt and blue jeans, with rugged black work boots on. His mother is in a slightly worn, but nice looking pink dress with a flower pattern.
“Brent, this is my mom and dad,” Robert says presenting them.
“Nice to meet you Mr. and Mrs. Miller,” I say with a smile.
I shake hands with Mr. Miller but Mrs. Miller will have none of that and goes in for the hug.
“Please call me Patty,” she says. “You two have had a long drive! I can’t wait to hear all about it.”
“But it was quite a bit of fun, Mom,” Robert says. “Have to admit, it was cool to ride out here in style.
Mr. Miller looks out at the Ferrari parked on the street and is noticeably impressed.
“Wow Brent, that is some vehicle,” Mr. Miller says and then whistles. “I’ve only seen something like that in magazines before. That or in a Fast and Furious movie.”
“I definitely feel fortunate to be driving it, Mr. Miller,” I say. “The dealer left me a note on the steering wheel after I picked it up. It said, ‘Control the power, don’t let the power control you.’ I take that to heart every single time I turn on the ignition.”
The man nods. “Please, call me Brian,” Mr. Miller says. “And that is good sound advice.
“It certainly is,” Patty says. “Robert always chooses wisely when he makes friends.”
They both grin proudly at their son. Mrs. Miller rubs Robert on the back. I can tell that his parents really support him and are affectionate. They definitely don’t seem distant, like mine are.
Just then the high-pitched voice of a fifteen-year-old girl cuts through the air. “I’ll be right there!” she calls out. “I have a surprise for you, Big Brother!”
I see through the screen door and down the hallway as the girl emerges from the kitchen. She has on a nice white dress, yet it’s a bit worn like her mother’s. In her hands is a large oval-shaped cake. She must’ve just finished putting the vanilla icing on it. She is in a rush, however. She must be so excited to have her brother home.
“That’s our little Lindsay,” Brian says, gesturing towards the house with his chin.
The girl has long, straight, dark brown hair and a heart-shaped face with pouty pink lips. She has dark eyes like her brother, but hers are larger and prettier.
Lindsay takes careful steps down the narrow hallway, balancing the large cake in her hands. When her father opens the door and she walks out to set the cake down on the little table on the porch, her foot catches a bent board. She can’t get free. Her leg twists and her grip on the cake loosens.
“Oh no!” she blurts out as she falls and lands face first into the cake.
“Aw jeez ya’ dummy!” Brian says and slaps his hand to his forehead.
Lindsay gets up slowly. Her face and dress are covered in cake and icing. She puts her fingers through the goop and pulls it down in clumps. Underneath her face is beet red with embarrassment. Tears line her big brown eyes but somehow, she holds them back. Shaking, she struggles to her feet. She just looks so funny standing there looking all messy I can’t help but start laughing. Her family joins in.
“Sweetie, you’re too much of a klutz to ever land a husband,” Patty says through giggles.
“You’re going to be one of those crazy cat ladies if you keep this up, Sis,” Roberts laughs.
But even as we laugh at the situation and taunt her, Lindsay does something remarkable and unexpected. She straightens up and starts to clean up the cake. She takes the pile of ruined pastry and frosting inside. She then comes back out with a broom and dustpan and cleans it all up without saying a word.
I’m still laughing a bit but then realize something, this kid has a strong will. She didn’t let this setback and our jokes stop her. She didn’t cry, she just showed a bit of embarrassment in her cheeks. That’s some sort of mettle. I am intrigued by this reaction. I definitely want to see it again.
Chapter Five
Brent
Present day…
I’ve been dying to check out this new food truck called Philly’s Grand, so I call Robert up and a few other friends to meet me there. It’s parked outside the main quad of campus, in a parking lot near the student union. I head out on a beautiful November evening and wait to meet my friends. It’s pretty warm for almost winter.
We’ve had a bunch of trucks that set up around campus and offer a wide variety of different types of food. Tacos, burgers, pizza, and even one that serves fried chicken and waffles! You might think that combination doesn’t work together, but it totally does. The sweet with the savory can be a powerful one-two punch. And we even have a food truck that serves fresh lemonade. I know it’s just sugar, water and lemons, but the way they make it is amazing to me. Just pop in a whole lemon and squeeze into the sugar-filled cup, then mix with water. Might be my all-time favorite beverage.
The food truck I want to check out tonight does Philly cheesesteaks. Supposedly they even have the right bread. I’ll believe it when I eat it. They offer cheese whiz, but I’m more of a provolone guy, myself. It will be interesting to see which one Robert chooses once he gets here. I like to know what side my friends are on!
Sam, Jackson and Kyle all show up around the same time. Roberts then makes his entrance while talking on his phone. He hangs up right before joining the group.
“Hey guys!” he says. “I’m ready for a cheesesteak, how about you?”
“Are you kidding?” Jackson says. “We’ve been waiting on you. I’m starving!”
We order our food, collect it, and then sit down at a one of the picnic tables in the quad. Everyone seems to be enjoying their sandwiches. I went for a large with provolone. The other guys all went for the whiz. I am not a fan of processed cheese and kind of find it to be a bit gross. But to each their own. And the bread is good, but it doesn’t come close to the sandwiches I had when I visited Philly. I wonder if any place outside of there can really replicate that. Still, I’m going to have to make a mental note to hit this truck up again. It is good.
“So, Robert, how is Lindsay doing with her classes?” I ask, as we sit and eat. I’m not sure why his little sister popped into my head, but she did.
Robert shrugs and takes a bite of his cheesesteak. “I think she is doing well,” he answers. “But I haven’t really asked her.”
Part of me likes that Lindsay got a scholarship to go to school here. She may be Robert’s bratty little sister, but it gives me more opportunities to tease her and make her face turn red. It really is one of my favorite things to do.
“Do you know what classes she is taking?” I ask.
Robert gives me a look, dark eyebrows raised, and takes another bite of his sandwich. “I don’t know, Man. The usual freshmen classes, I guess. What do you care?”
I shrug. “Some of those first-year classes can be killer. I don’t know
. I figured you would be showing her the way or something. I don’t have siblings, so I don’t know how it works.”
Robert shrugs. “I suppose.”
“You know what was killer? That biology test today,” Sam says as he stuffs fries in to his mouth.
“Tell me about it,” Robert agrees. We all nod, while chewing. “I don’t think the professor covered half of that stuff in class. I despise when they bring stuff up that’s only in the book.”
“Because it means you have to have actually read it?” Kyle says with a laugh. He tosses a French fry at Robert, who, amazingly, catches it in the air and then eats it with a grunt.
We all get a good chuckle out of that. And as we do, I look across the quad and see Lindsay hanging out with a group of girls. When did this happen? It looks like she’s with Sarah and her crew of popular girls. I am a bit confused and suddenly want to know what is going on. But all I can gather with quick glances is that they are getting slushies from another food truck.
“Hey Robert, you see over there?” I say pointing to Lindsay and her friends. “Your little sister is hanging with a particularly popular group of girls. When did she start being friends with them?”
He glances and then shrugs. “Lindsay can do what she wants,” Robert says while taking another bite of his cheesesteak.
It’s not really an answer. Robert doesn’t seem to really care what his little sister does. But this new development seems odd to me. Lindsay shouldn’t be around those stuck up girls. They will try to change her, make her more like them.
I feel the need to get her attention and tease her a bit. “Hey Lindsay!” I shout out from where we’re sitting.
I think it’s loud enough to hear, but she doesn’t turn our way. It bugs me. Is there some reason Lindsay isn’t acknowledging me? How do I get her to look at me? I better be proactive and take matters into my own hands. I get up on the bench and look out in her direction and create a megaphone with my hands.
