Confessions of an Estranged College Freshman

by Kitty Parker

  I began to fidget under his gaze. "Um…Tully? Earth to Tully! Tully!"

  Finally registering the fact that I was talking to him, he snapped out of his daze and blinked a few times. "Wow, sorry 'bout that, Eves. I guess I just… zoned out there for a minute."

  "Did you even notice that we scored a touchdown?" I asked incredulously.

  He looked sheepish. "Uh… we did?"

  I blinked. "Wow… you must've been really out of it."

  He shrugged. "I guess I was. Sorry."

  "Hey, you're the one who's missing the game," I pointed out with a chuckle. "No need to apologize to me."

  With that, we turned our attention back to the game, Tully remaining bizarrely quiet. I didn't think much of it, though. Halftime was quickly approaching, but Yale managed to squeeze in a field goal just before the clock ran out, making the score seven to three with Cornell in the lead. After the players had cleared the field, the Big Red Marching Band once again made its appearance.

  "YEAH, ELIZABETH DALTON!" I hollered. "YOU GO, GIRL! PLAY THAT TROMBONE LIKE YOU MEAN IT!"

  "Can you play the trombone like you don't mean it?" Tully inquired, lopsided grin in place.

  I gave him a look.

  He raised his hands in a defensive manner. "Just asking!"

  Moving around to make different formations as they played, the band blasted out a couple of different tunes before starting in on Cornell's fight song, "Give My Regards to Davy." The entire crowed joined in with the lyrics. I'd made a special point of attempting to learn them, so I sang along:

  "Give my regards to Davy,

  Remember me to Tee Fee Crane.

  Tell all the pikers on the Hill

  That I'll be back again.

  Tell them just how I busted

  Lapping up the high highball.

  We'll all have drinks at Theodore Zinck's

  When I get back next fall!"

  I didn't quite remember all the words, but I did make a valiant attempt and was proud of myself for that. Anyway, there wasn't exactly a shortage of singers on hand, so my mumbles of "lapping up…uh…something, something…" were hardly a problem.

  As the second half began, the tension in the stadium rose exponentially. Sure, everyone was still being absurdly loud, but it had become ananxious sort of loud. The score was too close for comfort, and every red (and white) blooded Cornellian silently prayed for another touchdown.

  Their prayers were answered just before the end of the third quarter.

  Cheering at the top of my lungs, I began bouncing back and forth from one foot to the other. Next to me, Tully had started doing his own little victory dance, which seemed to be a bizarre combination of the hokey pokey, the chicken dance, and the twist. It was positively hilarious.

  Noticing that I was doubled over with laughter, Tully stopped. "What?" he demanded, seeming slightly offended.

  Once I was able to breathe again, I reached up and pinched his paint-covered cheek, grandma-style. "Aw, you're so cute when you dance like a spastic mental patient!"

  Although I couldn't see the color of Tully's face, his swiftly reddening ears and neck were a dead giveaway that he was blushing furiously. "Shut up!" he whined, batting my hand away.

  I moved it up to ruffle his hair instead. "So you're a crappy dancer. It's not like it's the end of the world."

  He scowled. "I'm not crappy."

  I rolled my eyes, deciding to tease him some more. "Trust me, Tul. You're far better suited for the ice rink than for the dance floor."

  "Well," he retorted. "The only time you ever tried to skate, you crashed into about four different people, flipped over the sideboard, and landed yourself in the emergency room."

  I chuckled. "At least I admit that I can't skate for shit."

  "Touché," he conceded. "But no more making fun of my dancing! My ego is a fragile thing, you know."

  I snorted. "Yeah, fragile like a block of cement."

  He gave me a playful shove.

  I shoved him back, giggling.

  He grinned.

  So did I.

  We had officially passed the friendship test.

  * * *

  After gleefully skipping all the way back to the Mews following Cornell's victory, I washed off my "war paint", changed my clothes, and prepared to distract Elizabeth for a couple of hours. The boys had already headed off to help Elena set up for the surprise party down by Beebe Lake, and if I wasn't mistaken, they had enlisted the help of most of the people on our hall.

  Grinning, I knocked on my friend's door.

  "Hey, Evie!" she cheerfully greeted me as she opened it. "What's up? Did you like our halftime show?"

  "Yeah," I replied. "Did you hear me cheering for you?"

  "Can I pretend that I did?"

  I chuckled. "Sure. So, uh… d'you want to go roll down Libe Slope?" I mentally slapped myself for letting the first idea that popped into my head come flying out of my mouth. "And then, er… chill in the Straight?" I added, hoping to rectify the situation somewhat.

  Elizabeth let out a hearty laugh. "Yeah, that actually sounds like fun. Let's do it!"

  I was incredibly relieved that she hadn't become suspicious, since I wasn't particularly good at being devious. As the two of us headed out, I made sure to use the exit on the side of the dorm facing away from Beebe Lake, just in case. Instead of taking the shortest route across Rawlings Green, I maneuvered around Court Hall, walked across the quad, and went through the Balch Archway. Realizing that going across the Thurston Avenue Bridge (which was more or less a straight shot from where we were) would bring us dangerously close to the lake, I opted to take the scenic route.

  "Um… how about we walk down and go over the Suspension Bridge?" I suggested. "You know, cause it's… pretty and all."

  She shrugged. "Sure."

  With that, we hung a right and headed past Risley Hall, cutting across their tennis courts to save time. All the while, we babbled about whatever popped into our heads. For us, this meant the most random conversation in the history of random conversations. It started off somewhere around her calculus professor's ridiculous-looking mustache, travelled through the realm of my phobia of animatronic people, and wound up with the two of us contemplating Winston Churchill's sex life (or lack thereof).

  "He was not attractive, Evie," Elizabeth insisted as we started across the bridge.

  "Yeah, I know he wasn't, but the whole power thing would've gotten him laid," I argued.

  She raised an eyebrow at me. "Are you saying you would've slept with him?"

  I wrinkled up my nose. "God no. I'm just saying that some women are attracted to men with lots of power. I mean, how else do you think Henry the Eighth had such an active love life? He was a fat bastard."

  "True," she conceded.

  Having reached the other side of Fall Creek Gorge, we started up the wooden steps that led to the main part of campus. We were panting by the time we got to the top and took a moment or two to catch our breath before heading past the Johnson Museum of Art.

  "Now that is one ugly building," Elizabeth commented, pointing to the mass of brownish concrete.

  I nodded in agreement. "Sixties brutalist architecture at its worst. It totally clashes with all the collegiate gothic stuff, too."

  Finally, we had reached Libe Slope. I stared down the massive grassy expanse in awe. It was one freaking big hill.

  "Last one down's a rotten egg!" Elizabeth suddenly exclaimed, dropping to her stomach and starting to roll.

  Not to be outdone, I followed, giving myself a little shove to get some momentum going.

  Shouting and giggling, the two of us rolled all the way down to West Avenue at the base of the hill and then charged back up for another go. We repeated this action twice before Elizabeth accidentally crashed into a tree, at which point we decided to call it quits and headed into the Straight to grab a drink and a sandwich.

  Once we'd made our purchases from the Ivy Room, we headed out onto the terrace overlooking We
st Campus and took a seat at one of the tables. The sun was just beginning to set, filling the sky with radiant shades of orange, pink, and red. It would be a lovely night to have a party. I smiled secretively to myself.

  "What's that look for, Evie?" chuckled Elizabeth, nudging me.

  Perhaps I hadn't been so secretive after all. Oh well. I'd just have to bring up something that would distract my companion. "Oh, you know. Just thinking about what color the bridesmaids' dresses should be when you and Amory get married." That was a surefire way to divert her suspicions.

  "I don't like him!" she insisted vehemently.

  "Face it, kiddo," I teased. "You two are going to fall madly in love, get married, and have lots of sex and babies."

  "Argh!" She threw up her hands in exasperation.

  I chuckled. "I'm just screwing with you, dude. I know you hate his guts and all that."

  She pointed a finger at me. "And don't you forget it, missy!"

  My cell phone began to buzz in my pocket, signaling that someone had texted me. When Elizabeth bent to re-tie her shoe, I quickly took it out and flipped it open. The message was from Elena.

  Ready for Operation Squeegee.

  I had to stifle a chuckle. I still didn't know why my roommate had named our little surprise party "Operation Squeegee." Perhaps it was merely because "squeegee" was an inherently amusing word.

  "Hey," I began when my companion sat back up. "When you're done, d'you want to head back?"

  She shrugged indifferently. "Okay."

  Holding my phone under the table, I typed a quick message to Elena.

  On our way.

  "Whatcha doing?" Elizabeth inquired.

  "Uh…" I droned. "Er, just texting someone."

  She looked at me suspiciously.

  I tried to give her an innocent grin, but it probably came off more nervous than I'd wanted it to.

  "Okaaaay…" she deadpanned.

  "Um, let's go then," I hastily suggested, standing up and making a move to throw my trash in the nearest bin.

  Elizabeth followed. She probably thought I was a psycho by this point.

  Attempting to seem as normal as possible, I struck up a conversation as we headed back toward North Campus. "So, uh, why d'you think Mr. Peanut wears a top hat? I mean, he's a peanut. And what's up with the monocle? Peanuts don't have eyes, do they? Or maybe the company's just trying to impress fancy people or something…"

  She gave me a weird look. "Evie, are you feeling okay?"

  "Sure," I squeaked, failing miserably in my attempt to sound nonchalant. "Why?"

  "You were just ranting about the Planter's peanut dude." She bent down to look in my eyes. "Did your sandwich taste funny at all? Maybe something in it went bad…"

  I chuckled nervously. "No, no, I'm fine." Oh, man, I was horrible at the whole being discreet thing. I had to speed up our trip before I accidentally blurted something out. My eyes lit up as an idea hit me. "Race you to the bridge!" I exclaimed, taking off.

  "You're on!" Elizabeth shouted, breaking into a run and quickly gaining on me. "Eat my dust!" she crowed as she breezed past.

  Stupid long legs…

  Huffing and puffing, I sped up as I chased my friend across the Arts Quad. My effort was in vain. When I finally reached the Thurston Avenue Bridge, Elizabeth was already there, catching her breath.

  "You win," I conceded, panting.

  She smiled brightly.

  Now to get her to the party…

  "Wanna go cool our feet in the lake before we head in?" I suggested, my heart rate starting to return to its normal pace.

  "Sure," she agreed. "As long as it's not completely full of algae and crap."

  "Well, only one way to find out," I reasoned. "Let's go."

  We trekked across the bridge and headed over toward Beebe Lake. The twinkling lights of tiki torches greeted us as we approached the shore.

  "Hey, cool!" Elizabeth exclaimed upon seeing them. "Who put these things here?"

  "SURPRISE!!" About fifty people suddenly popped out from behind the surrounding bushes and trees.

  Startled out of her wits, Elizabeth let out a little shriek, stumbled backward, and promptly fell on her butt.

  "Nice one, sweetie," Elena chuckled, coming to the forefront of the throng and helping our shocked-looking friend back to her feet. "Happy eighteenth!"

  I turned to face the crowd and a wide grin spread across my face. "Let the wild rumpus start!"

  They cheered in response, unfazed by my use of a children's book quote to kick off the festivities. Someone switched on a stereo of some sort and began blasting "Chelsea Dagger" by The Fratellis. A number of people began dancing. Others made a beeline for the coolers that contained the drinks. I had no idea where these had come from. Elena and I had indicated on the invitations that this was a "bring your own" party. In other words, we wouldn't be serving alcohol, so if you wanted some, you'd have to bring it yourself. Neither of us had a fake ID nor had any desire to get one anytime soon.

  "Who brought the drinks?" I asked my roommate.

  "I think it was that Drew guy from the third floor," she replied, pointing to a lanky blonde.

  I sighed. Of course someone was going to bring enough booze for everyone. I should've expected that. I'd hoped to have a low profile party, but that apparently wasn't going to happen.

  Over the next few hours or so, people kept trickling in and joining the festivities. Half of them probably had no clue that they were even at a birthday party, but that didn't seem to bother Elizabeth. She was busy dancing up a storm.

  Tully sidled up beside me. "Great party, Eves."

  I grinned, feeling proud that I had helped plan it. "Thanks! Enjoying yourself?"

  "You bet," he replied. "Can I ask you a favor?"

  I looked up at him. "What sort of favor?"

  His green eyes twinkled mischievously. "I just need a little help welcoming our dear Elizabeth to adulthood once midnight rolls around."

  "What did you have in mind?" I inquired.

  He bent down to whisper in my ear. I shivered involuntarily as his breath hit my neck, listening intently to his devious plan.

  "She'll kill you for that, you know," I pointed out when he'd finished, though I had every intention of participating in the little shenanigan.

  He chuckled. "She'll get over it. At least we're not giving her birthday spanks or something."

  I shook my head in amusement. "You, my friend, are perverted."

  "I didn't mean it like that!" he objected, blushing.

  "But it came out that way," I insisted.

  "Maybe you just have a dirty mind."

  "Oh, I'm not denying that," I joked. "I'm just saying that you do, too."

  "Great minds think alike, eh?" he teased. "We make a great team."

  "Speaking of which, what time is it?" I asked.

  He pulled his phone out of his pocket to check. "Eleven fifty-five," he replied. "We still have time. You wanna dance in the meantime?"

  I grinned, my goofy side starting to come out. "Can we tango?"

  He returned my grin. "We can and we will." So saying, he grabbed my hand with his and wrapped his other arm around my waist, pulling me flush against him. Attempting to ignore how good that felt, I mimicked his gestures and we stuck our entwined hands out straight before us. We began to tango across the grass, cutting through the mass of students dancing in more conventional ways. It was quite an experience. Anyone else who'd ever tried to tango to AC/DC would surely agree.

  Finally stopping, Tully once again consulted his phone. When he returned his gaze to me, his signature lopsided grin was in place. "It's time."

  It was officially September twenty-eighth, Elizabeth's birthday. We headed off in search of her and finally found her off to the side, chatting with a few girls from Balch Hall. Approaching her as quietly as possible, we ambushed her from behind with me grabbing her arms and Tully swiping her legs out from beneath her.

  "Hey!" she protested. "What're you guys doin
g!?"

  Ignoring her objections, Tully and I began to sing as we carried her, those around us gradually joining in:

  "Happy birthday to you,

  Happy birthday to you,

  Happy birthday, dear Elizabeth,

  Happy birthday to you!"

  Giving a great heave, we tossed the shrieking birthday girl into the lake, where she landed with a large splash. After a moment, she surfaced, spluttering and wiping her wet hair out of her eyes.

  "Welcome to adulthood!" Tully shouted.

  Elizabeth pointed a finger in our direction. "You two," she growled. "Are SO dead!" Hastily getting to her feet in the five-foot deep water, she charged back to shore.

  "EEP!" I squeaked in surprise as Tully grabbed my hand and bolted. I had a difficult time keeping up with him as he weaved around various party-goers, dragging me along behind him. We apparently weren't fast enough, however, for I soon felt a sopping wet body tackle me from behind.

  "WET HUG!" Elizabeth exclaimed, squeezing me tight and soaking me.

  We both fell to the ground, laughing our asses off.

  When I looked up, I found myself staring into the face of a very concerned Elena. "Evie, we have a bit of a problem," she informed me.

  Worried, I sat up. "What's going on?"

  "Amory's knackered."

  "Shit." I quickly got to my feet. Amory and alcohol were not a good combination. "Where is he?"

  She gestured off to the left. "That way, over by the coolers."

  Sighing, I headed off in that direction, a curious Elizabeth (no doubt looking for a good laugh) following close behind me.

  I found Amory slumped against one of the folding tables Elena had set up earlier, a bottle of vodka clenched firmly in his fist. My heart sank. Amory never had vodka when he was only drinking for pleasure. It was his liquor of choice for when he wanted to get completely smashed, which he only did when he was upset about something.

  Quietly, I approached my ex and placed a hand gently on his arm. "Amory, what's wrong?"

  My query was met with silence.

  "Amory… please put the vodka down."

  He shook his head.

  "Please?" I tried again. "For me?"