by Kitty Parker
He grinned smugly. "Nope. Why should I be?"
"Oh, I don't know," I began sarcastically. "Maybe because it's our first college class ever?"
"It's econ," he replied, waving a hand as if to brush away any concerns there might be. "It'll be a breeze. You know me, Evie. I'm going to run Wall Street someday."
I rolled my eyes. "You're so arrogant. I should toss you into the gorge for that."
He eyed the deep ravine on our left that Fall Creek had carved over time. "You couldn't even lift me up."
"I might be small, but I'm strong." I flexed a bicep to emphasize my point.
"Pft," he snorted. "Sure you are. That's why I had to move your bookcase into your room for you."
I gave him a shove as we headed across the bridge, joined by many other freshmen making the journey from the dorms on North Campus to their classes.
I truly considered myself fortunate for having such a positive relationship with my ex. Most of my friends who had dated in high school weren't even on speaking terms with theirs. I attributed the ongoing friendship between Amory and myself to a few different factors:
First of all, he was a decent guy and amusing to no end, so I really did want to keep him around. He was the sort of person whose reputation belied him; he had a name for being an overly opinionated, rich bigot, and while this was somewhat based in fact, it was more of an exaggeration than anything else. Amory often pretended to be more extreme than he was, sometimes to get a rise out of people and sometimes just to make them laugh, and people who didn't know him well generally thought this to be his true personality. It wasn't. At heart, he was a good person, and I liked him.
Second, he understood and had accepted the reason why I'd broken up with him. Although I respected our differences, I knew that I couldn't be with someone who became visibly uncomfortable every time he had to talk to my gay cousin and ex-hippie aunt (I was very loyal to my family). Besides, my feelings for him weren't as strong as his feelings for me, and I'd felt that it was unfair for him to remain attached to someone who couldn't give him the love he deserved.
Third, he still loved me but had told me that he respected me enough to accept my decision and let me go. This had earned him my highest admiration.
Being the incurable romantic that I was, I had faith that Amory would find the right girl for him, and when he did, I planned to do everything in my power to help him get her.
When the two of us finally found the correct room in Goldwin Smith Hall (after walking up and down the main corridor in confusion three times), we slipped inside and I attempted to take a seat toward the middle. Amory, however, had other plans. Grabbing my arm, he dragged me all the way up to the second row.
So much for anonymity.
It wasn't as though I wanted to be a wallflower. Far from it, really. I just preferred to voice my opinions when the class broke up into discussion sections rather than be that one kid who made a big stink out of everything during lectures.
But of course, I'd almost forgotten: Amory was that kid.
Suddenly, the lecture hall, which had been hitherto buzzing with conversation, grew quiet as a middle-aged man in khakis, a dark blue blazer, a collared shirt with a bowtie, and glasses perched on top of his gray hair stepped up to the podium at the front.
"Good morning," he greeted us.
There were some mumbled responses.
"Welcome to Intermediate Macroeconomics. My name is Dr. Burry, and I'll be the one standing at the podium and enlightening you this term."
A collective chuckle went around the room.
"You can find our syllabus and your assignments on the course page online," he continued. "You have some reading to do for our next class, so don't slack off, or you will be subject to my wrath and some good old-fashioned embarrassment in your discussion sections." He flipped a switch on the podium that caused his computer desktop to be projected onto a large screen at the front of the room. "Since this is our first day, I figured we'd start with something topical rather than going back and examining the lives and theories of dead economists, as interesting as they might be. As I'm sure you all know, there's been a lot of buzz recently in the US and the European Union about enacting a cap-and-trade carbon tax to curb emissions."
The pointer up on the screen shifted over to a link on the task bar, which popped up when clicked upon, turning into an article on the New York Times website.
"Now, because of the negative externalities of pollution," Dr. Burry continued. "There have been numerous calls for reform and government intervention. Something we'll be talking about later on in the term is what sort of policy approach is appropriate for dealing with such things. The question we're looking at today, though, is whether a carbon tax is a logical response and if so, how high it should be."
Although this was hardly a query meant to be thrown to the class for discussion, Amory's hand shot up.
I rolled my eyes. Here we go again…
Dr. Burry seemed rather surprised that someone already had a question when he hadn't even really begun his lecture. "Yes, in the second row."
"Sir," Amory began in the most pretentious voice he was capable of. "I can say with absolute certainty that there should not be a carbon tax at all. It will cripple industry and slow GDP growth drastically. The market itself will take care of the problem as alternative energy becomes more efficient. The market, sir, is never wrong."
"Way to make a great first impression, Amory," I mumbled sarcastically.
Dr. Burry, however, seemed amused. "What's your name?"
"Amory Atherton, sir."
"Well, ladies and gentlemen," Dr. Burry continued, addressing the entire lecture hall. "Considering Amory's insight and how soon into the lesson he had it, I think that now is a great time to introduce a couple of awards I sometimes give out in class."
Amory sat up a bit straighter in his seat, proud of himself for winning a prize on his first day.
Dr. Burry turned to him with a grin. "Congratulations, Amory. You've won the prestigious Schmuck of the Day Award."
I doubled over, desperately attempting to stifle my laughter as Amory turned pink and attempted to shrink into his seat.
Oh yes, I was going to love this class.
* * *
"What a douche!" Amory growled as the two of us walked down the hallway to his room. Neither of us had class again until the afternoon, so we'd planned on maybe hanging out a bit before heading to lunch.
"Admit it, Amory," I teased. "He totally owned you."
"But I was right!" he insisted. "Asshole's probably a communist."
I rolled my eyes. Amory thought everyone he didn't like was a communist. "He's more likely a professor who doesn't like random morons interrupting him while he's lecturing, which is completely understandable."
Amory pouted as he shoved his door open. "Hey! I resent that."
I waltzed into the room and flopped down on Amory's bed. "Well, I like him. You just can't deal with the fact that he thinks you're a schmuck."
"Who thinks Amory's a schmuck?"
I jumped slightly, not having noticed a certain redhead lounging on a futon in the corner of the room.
Oh, great. Tully time. Just act natural, Evie, or Amory will get suspicious and start asking questions…
"Our econ professor," I replied. "He totally shut Amory down during lecture. It was awesome."
Tully gave me a lopsided grin.
I'd missed that grin…
"Sounds like my kind of guy. What's his name?"
"Dr. Burry," Amory grumbled, his lip curling in obvious distaste.
Tully cocked his head to the side thoughtfully. "Burry, huh? Rings a bell. You know his first name?"
I furrowed my brow, trying to remember. "Oh God, what was it? It started with a J…John? No…Jake? Jim? Oh, Jude! That's it."
Tully leapt off his bed as though someone had set his pants on fire. "JUDE BURRY!?" he exclaimed. "The Jude Burry is your econ professor?"
I stared at him b
lankly. "Uh…yeah?"
"HOLY SHIT! Can I meet him!?" He ran up to me and grabbed both of my hands in his. I felt a slight tingle from the contact, though that could have been because his grip was starting to cut off my circulation.
"Tully, you're hurting me!" I squeaked.
He dropped my hands like they'd burnt him. "Sorry!"
I gave him a weird look. His behavior was really starting to creep me out. "Tully, are you on crack or something?"
He let out a hearty laugh. "No, no, of course not! Don't you know who Jude Burry is?"
"Um…" I looked over at Amory for help, but he just shrugged his shoulders. "My professor?"
"Try one of the greatest forwards in the history of Cornell hockey!" he cried. "And he's your professor!" He suddenly scooped me up in his arms and began spinning me in gleeful circles. "Oh, I could kiss you for taking his class!"
I blushed heavily at that but chose to hide how awkward I felt. "Tully, if you don't stop spinning me around, I'm going to puke on you."
"Sorry," he chuckled, plopping me down on his bed. "That's just really exciting."
From across the room, Amory gave him an amused look. "You're weird, man. Whatever, I've got to go pick up my dry-cleaning. I'll see you later." So saying, he pulled open the door and disappeared down the hallway.
I could have killed him for ditching me. Stupid rich boy with his stupid dry-clean only sweaters…
"So, not to press the subject," Tully began, smiling down at me sheepishly as he stood beside his bed. "But, er…could you somehow…introduce me to him?"
I had to laugh at his evident hero-worship of my professor. "Probably sometime, yeah, in a while. I haven't even met him yet. He just knows me as that girl who was sitting next to the Schmuck of the Day, laughing her ass off."
"Schmuck of the Day, huh?" he chuckled. "He actually gave Amory an award for being a tool?"
I sat up on the bed and nodded. "That he did."
In the ensuing pause, Tully cautiously took a seat beside me. "So, um, how'd you like the class?"
Don't make it awkward, Evie. Just play it cool…
I bit my lip, feeling the tension building in the room. "Er…it was…good. I liked it. Have you had any classes yet?"
He nodded. "Yeah, introductory Dutch."
I raised an eyebrow. "You're taking Dutch?"
He shrugged, that lopsided grin once again making its appearance. "Why not?"
"Fair enough. Do you know what you want to major in yet?"
He seemed immensely pleased that I was actually making an attempt to converse with him. "Nope. I definitely want to do something important, though. You know, shake the world up a little."
I smiled, though the dull ache of remembrance throbbed in my heart. "You haven't changed at all, have you, Tully?"
His grin became almost wistful. "Neither have you."
Oh, God…
I needed to do something before I started crying or doing something equally embarrassing.
Tully's stomach growled just then, giving me the perfect solution to my predicament.
"You want to go get lunch?" I suggested.
He nodded. "You read my mind."
"More like I heard your stomach," I chuckled, standing up and heading for the door, pausing to wait for my companion as he slipped on a pair of shoes.
"It is pretty loud, isn't it?" he joked.
I smiled, attempting to increase the lightheartedness of the situation. "I think it has a mind of its own."
There was that lopsided grin again. "Many parts of the male body do."
Oh my God, he did NOT just say that…
"Ewwww, Tully!" I wrinkled up my nose. "We're about to go eat,for crying out loud!"
"Sorry," he chuckled. "It was just too good an opening to pass up. You really did walk into that one, you know."
"Boys…" I muttered as I exited the room, Tully close on my heels.
We'd barely made it to the stairwell at the end of the hall before we were accosted by loud, bickering voices coming from below. Looking down over the railing, I could make out the familiar figures of Amory and Elizabeth standing in the foyer and bitching at each other, the former's arms full of clothes in plastic dry-cleaning bags.
"Nobody's forcing you to listen to them, you know!" Elizabeth snapped, hands on her hips in a clearly pissed-off pose.
Amory glared at her. "You are when you go around singing that 'Sadie Hawkins Dance' song to yourself!"
She glared right back. "You can't tell me what to do! I can sing if I damn well want to, whenever I damn well want to, wherever I damn well want to!"
"Oh yeah, cause it's a free country and all that, right?" he spat, sneering at her.
"As a matter of fact, it is! And you…" she poked a finger into his chest. "…of all people should know that, Mr. Cut-Throat-Anarcho-Capitalist!" She added a bit of a mocking tone to this epithet.
"Well, Ms. Personal-Liberties-Crusader," he retorted. "You're disregarding my sovereignty by invading my personal bubble with your finger!"
Sharing a look, Tully and I wordlessly decided that it would be best for us to intervene at this point. We bolted down the stairs, Tully taking a flying leap to land in between our feuding friends.
"HEY!" he shouted as I ran up behind him. "Chill the fuck out, you guys! We could hear you all the way upstairs!"
I shook my head as though I were scolding two squabbling kindergarteners. "Children, children. Play nice, now. We were just going to head to lunch. Maybe some food will make you two less grumpy, hm? Or do I need to reinstate time-outs?"
Amory scowled at me. He hated it when I did anything that insinuated that I was older and/or more mature than he was (even though he wastechnically younger than me by about six months).
"I'll go," Elizabeth agreed, shooting Amory one last glare for good measure. "I could use something to eat…as well as some less infuriating company."
Amory pretended to look wounded. "Ouch. That one stung."
I rolled my eyes and headed out the door, hoping that Tully and Elizabeth would follow me. They did, but not before Elizabeth had made a nasty face at Amory's retreating back as he climbed the stairs to put his clothes away.
As soon as we set off toward North Star, one of the dining halls on North Campus, Elizabeth started in on a rant about my ex.
"What a fucking asshole!" she growled.
I sighed, knowing Amory's antics all too well. "What did he do this time?"
"Well, I was just walking through the hall, minding my own business," she explained. "And I was sort of singing this Relient K song to myself…softy, you know. Then he comes in with his stupid dry-cleaning and goes (here she did a spectacular imitation of the boy in question) 'If you absolutely must sing out loud, at least get some better taste in music.' I mean, where the hell does he get off criticizing me? I've barely known the kid for a week and I already can't stand him!"
"Someday," Tully mused. "We're all going to be at your wedding going 'You remember when they thought they hated each other? How funny was that?'"
Elizabeth smacked him upside the head.
"Hey!" he protested.
"You know, Elizabeth," I pointed out, enjoying the moment. "The reason Amory asked me out in the first place was because we got in a fight in history class. He likes girls who'll stand up to him. Hell, he's probably head-over-heels for you by the look of things." I was kidding, of course. It was just fun to get Elizabeth flustered.
She gave me a look. "Don't even go there," she deadpanned.
I shrugged. "Stranger things have happened."
We had reached our destination by this point. Elizabeth, busy glaring at me, failed to notice this and promptly walked into the glass doors in front of us.
"See?" I chuckled as Elizabeth rubbed her forehead. "You're so busy thinking about him that you don't even notice the world around you!"
Tully practically had to shove a fist in his mouth to keep from laughing.
Elizabeth was not amused.
&
nbsp; * * *
By the time the afternoon had arrived, the day had grown a bit windy. This was actually quite a relief from the humidity that had been plaguing Ithaca all week. However, the breeze was also proving quite problematic in the wardrobe malfunction department. I had to be incredibly mindful to hold my medium-length, flowy skirt down when the nasty updrafts came along, otherwise I'd run the risk of pulling a Marilyn Monroe and treating everyone around me to the sight of my lovely polka-dotted panties.
Tully, who had decided to accompany me on my way to the arts quad for my government class, claiming that he had to go to the library, was enjoying the weather far more than I. He grinned as the breeze blew his dark red hair back and turned his face to the sky.
"What a nice day!" he commented.
"If you're wearing pants," I muttered.
Not having heard me, he started to make small talk. "So, what sort of a government class is this?"
I shrugged. "I think it's mainly about globalization. It looked interesting, so I thought I'd go for it."
"Sounds good."
"What are you planning on doing in the library?" I asked.
"Well, Evie," he teased. "I thought I'd work a little, even though that might seem a little out of place in a university library."
I scoffed. "You can't possibly have that much work already. The only class you've had so far is introductory Dutch."
"How can you be sure of how much work I have?" he challenged. "For all you know, my professor's already given me a research paper on wooden shoes and windmills."
I rolled my eyes. "Like anyone actually wears wooden shoes in the Netherlands anymore…"
"You're a very presumptuous vrouw, Evie," he chastised.
I gave him a suspicious look. "Is that an insult or something?"
"What, vrouw?" He seemed surprised that I would suggest such a thing. "It just means 'woman.'"
Tully's impromptu Dutch lesson had kind of thrown me off, causing me to forget my attire when the next large updraft of wind came along. My skirt flew up and I unwittingly flashed everyone who happened to be in my vicinity. Luckily for me, this group only included my erstwhile best friend (who was laughing so hard I was actually worried he'd piss himself) and some random, tall, blonde guy who had been walking in the opposite direction.
