Confessions of an Estranged College Freshman

by Kitty Parker

  I pinched the bridge of my nose in frustration. "I've stopped giving a shit. By this point, I either know it or I don't."

  Amory sighed loudly, clearly annoyed at me.

  "There's no law against studying by yourself, you know," I pointed out.

  He pouted. "I like studying with other people."

  "Then go find someone. I'm taking a nap."

  "Fine," he groaned before gathering his flashcards and heading for my door. "I'll swing by before I head down to the final, okay?"

  "Sure," I agreed, lying back on my bed.

  "Have a nice sleep." He shut the door softly behind him as he left the room.

  I rolled over onto my side. As soon as my head hit the pillow, I was gone.

  I walk into the lecture hall where the exam is supposed to take place, but no one else is there. There are only five minutes left before it starts, so I run out the door, frantically checking every room on the hallway, which seems to be getting longer. Finally, I find the right one and take a seat with my peers.

  Dr. Burry clomps onto the little stage at the front in full hockey gear, except instead of skates, he's wearing bright red clown shoes.

  "Your exam booklets are under your seats," he tells us, but when I look, mine isn't there. Panicking, I scour the whole room until I find one.

  "Milton Friedman will be helping me proctor the exam," Dr. Burry informs us. "He's dead, so please be good for him."

  The ghost of the famous economist appears and starts zooming around over our heads, dropping water balloons on us as we begin.

  I look at the first question. It asks me to draw a graph of supply and demand, the most simple graph in the entire field of economics.

  My mind goes blank.

  I desperately sift through all the useless information in my brain to find the answer. On my left, I see my little brother breezing through the exam like it's the easiest thing in the world. On my right, Amory keeps raising his hand to ask Milton Friedman completely irrelevant questions, like whether he wore boxers or briefs when he was alive.

  Dr. Burry is still standing on the stage, staring out at us all in an incredibly unnerving way. I haven't seen him blink at all.

  Mischa takes the seat behind me and begins massaging my shoulders. It's calming, but it isn't helping me with my exam.

  Suddenly, Tully jumps through the window and starts chasing after Mischa. The two end up on the stage, where they begin to wrestle. My classmates stop taking their exams and cheer on the feuding boys. I just stare at them in shock.

  Dr. Burry pulls out a gleaming silver whistle and gives it a tweet, calling a penalty on both of them for roughing. He gives an additional penalty to Tully for cock-blocking and one to Mischa for espionage.

  The boys stomp over to the penalty boxes that have materialized in the two front corners of the room and get inside.

  Once things have settled down again, Dr. Burry whips out a puck and sets it on the stage in front of him. He whacks it with his stick, sending it sailing out over the class and straight for my forehead.

  I brace myself for the pain…

  I woke up to a loud knock on my door and blinked the sleep out of my eyes. "Uh, come in."

  Amory poked his head into the room. "Come on, Evie, let's go."

  Yawning, I stood up and grabbed by notebook. I jammed my feet into my boots and shrugged on my winter coat, preparing myself to face the bitter cold outside, then followed Amory out the door.

  "Have a good nap?" he inquired.

  "Yeah. I had the weirdest dream, though…"

  * * *

  It was late when the final ended, but I honestly could have cared less. My exams were over and I was practically doing cartwheels.

  "Think fast!" I shouted, lobbing a snowball at Amory's head as we left the building.

  "What the-?" he managed to get out before it hit him full on in the face.

  I laughed gleefully and started running in the direction of the Mews.

  Grumbling to himself, he followed me. I hadn't expected him to seek revenge, as he'd never been one for snowball fights.

  The finale of the 1812 Overture started blasting from my coat pocket. I grinned, recognizing the ringtone I'd set for my boyfriend (after all, Tchaikovsky was Russian).

  "Privyet, Mischa."

  "Privyet, printsessa. You just finished your exam, yes?"

  "Mhm," I replied. "Last one, too. I'm done!"

  "Pozdravleniya!" he exclaimed. "How did it go?"

  "Well, I think."

  "Chorosho!I am very proud of you, milaya moya. We need to celebrate."

  "What do you have in mind?"

  I could practically hear his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Do you still have those trays we stole from Okenshield's?"

  "Yeah…" I began, slightly suspicious.

  "Excellent. Meet me in front of the Ezra Cornell statue at midnight. I am going to take you traying."

  "You would," I chuckled. "Alright, I'll see you then!"

  "Do svidaniya, printsessa."

  We hung up.

  "Plans for tonight?" asked Amory, who had caught up with me.

  I grinned. "Mhm. Going traying."

  He rolled his eyes. "You would."

  "Aw, lighten up." I punched him on the shoulder. "C'mon, let's go get dinner."

  When we got to RPCC, we swiped our ID cards to get in and started looking for a table. The search yielded interesting results, namely a certain redhead sitting by himself and looking rather glum.

  Pointing him out to Amory, I approached the table. "Hey Tul, mind if we join you?"

  He looked up at us, startled. "Oh! Yeah, sure."

  "Sweet. I'm getting food," Amory announced before making a beeline for the pasta.

  Taking advantage of the situation, I sat down across from Tully. "So, why the long face?"

  He pretended to look offended. "Ouch. I don't think my face is any longer than anyone else's. Are you saying I'm ugly, Eves?"

  "Of course not," I chuckled, glad that whatever was on his mind didn't seem to be too serious. "You know what I meant. Something's bugging you, isn't it? Spill."

  He held up his hands in defeat. "Alright, you win. I'm just pissed off."

  "Why?" I prompted.

  "I ran into Dorianne in the library and she randomly bitched me out in front of like six million people."

  I gave him a look.

  "Ok, I'm exaggerating," he admitted. "But there were a lot of people there, so it was embarrassing. And then the librarians kicked us both out."

  "That sucks," I commented. Then, a brilliant idea hit me. "You know what? Mischa and I are going traying on the slope tonight. Why don't you borrow Elizabeth's tray and come with us? It'll cheer you up."

  He shifted uncomfortably. "I don't want to mess up your date or anything."

  "Nah, it's not a date," I insisted. "We're just celebrating 'cause I'm done with my finals. I'm sure Mischa won't mind."

  A smile spread slowly over Tully's face. "Okay. When are you going?"

  "A quarter to midnight. We're meeting at the Ezra Cornell statue."

  "Alright." He paused. "Evie?"

  "Hm?"

  "Thanks for inviting me."

  I gave him a warm smile. "Anytime, Tul."

  * * *

  At midnight sharp, the three of us met up at the statue. Mischa had been very gracious about allowing Tully to come along. Any friend of mine was a friend of his, he'd insisted, and no one deserved to be alone and unhappy on a Friday night.

  "Privyet, printsessa," Mischa greeted me, stooping to give me a peck on the cheek.

  "Privyet."

  He turned his smile to Tully. "Hey."

  "Hey, yourself," Tully replied. "Thanks for letting me come."

  "Of course. I am glad you could join us."

  I scrutinized the conversation for any signs of tension or hostility but found none. I breathed a sigh of relief.

  "Come on." Mischa jerked his head toward the slope. "Let me teach you two how to go tray
ing."

  Grinning, we followed him over to the top of the incline and set our trays down on top of the freshly fallen snow.

  "Now," Mischa began. "You must fit yourself onto the tray, either sitting or on your stomach." He demonstrated both positions.

  I sat on my tray and tucked my knees to my chest, trying to keep my body from touching the ground. It was a lot harder than it looked. Tully was having an extremely difficult time squeezing all six feet of himself into such a small space. He eventually gave up and lay down on his stomach, lifting his legs up behind him to avoid drag.

  "Okay," Mischa went on. "Now you just push yourself off of the edge with your hands and go, like this." So saying, he dug his hands into the snow and shoved off, sending himself flying down the slope toward West Campus. I could hear his jovial laughter the entire way down.

  "You ready, Tul?" I asked my companion.

  "Yup. Let's do this. On the count of three: one… two… three!"

  I let out a shriek of excitement as I started speeding downwards. The wind whipped at my face and I could feel the snow rushing beneath my tray.

  I felt like I was flying.

  "Woohoo!" Tully bellowed as he passed me. He suddenly swerved to avoid a group of girls who were climbing up the hill and ended up flipping over and sliding a few yards on his back.

  Unfortunately, he was right in my path. I tried to slow down, but to no avail.

  "Oomph!" Tully grunted as I slammed into him.

  We rolled down the slope together, a giant tangle of limbs and snow gear, before finally coming to a stop three quarters of the way to the bottom. After we'd caught our breath, we just looked at each other and burst into laughter.

  "Are you two alright?" Mischa asked, jogging towards us with a concerned look on his face.

  "Yeah, we're fine," I replied.

  Tully grinned. "That was fun."

  Mischa's blue eyes twinkled. "Another run, then?"

  "Sure." I pushed myself up to a sitting position and held out a hand to him. He took it and pulled me to my feet.

  "You are not hurt?" he asked again, looking into my eyes for any sign of distress.

  I pecked him on the lips in response.

  He smiled. "Okay. Come on." With that, he led the way up the hill for another go.

  Tully, in the meantime, had gotten to his feet and retrieved both of our trays. I thanked him as he handed mine to me.

  "No problem," he replied. "Thanks again for inviting me."

  "You feeling less pissed?" I inquired.

  He chuckled. "Sure."

  "Good. For the record, I'm glad you dumped Dorianne. She was a total bitch; nowhere near good enough for you."

  His eyes lit up. "You think so?"

  "I know so."

  He beamed at me. "Thanks. That really means a lot coming from you, Eves."

  "I just tell it like it is," I replied.

  As the night wore on and Tully, Mischa, and I went on countless runs up and down the slope, getting progressively colder and wetter, I couldn't help but think back to the hill where Tully and I had gone sledding as children…

  "Last one up's a rotten egg!" shouted a ten year-old Tully, charging up the hill to the giant oak tree that we always used as a starting point for our sledding adventures.

  Huffing and puffing, I chased after him, but I was no match for his longer, stronger legs.

  "You lose!" he declared as I finally joined him on top of the hill.

  I stuck my tongue out at him.

  He imitated me and we spent the next couple of minutes making stupid faces at each other.

  Laughing at our antics, Mrs. McFadden hiked up the hill after us, dragging our little orange sled behind her. "You two up for another run?"

  We both nodded eagerly.

  "Alright, but this is the last one, okay? It's starting to get dark."

  "Aw, Mom!" Tully whined, pouting.

  Her eyes twinkled. "Did I mention that I'm making hot cider?"

  Tully and I perked up. Mrs. McFadden's cider was unbelievably delicious.

  "Okay," I agreed, and Tully nodded in agreement.

  Smiling, Mrs. McFadden set our sled on the ground in front of us and we climbed in, Tully in the back with me sitting between his legs.

  I turned around to look him in the eye. "Don't let me fall off this time!"

  He wrapped his arms tightly around my waist, securing me against his chest. "That good?"

  "Mhm," I replied, turning back around.

  "Ready?" Mrs. McFadden asked.

  "Yeah!"

  "Okay. Ready, set, go!"

  With a push, we were off, flying down the hill like an orange blur.

  Suddenly, we hit a bump and the sled flipped over, pitching us both into the snow.

  When we had stopped rolling, I gave Tully a look.

  "Not my fault!" he insisted. "I held onto you!"

  "But I still fell," I pointed out.

  He flashed me his adorable ten year-old grin. "At least I fell with you."

  Chapter 15: Stupidity: The Musical

  "Come on, Evie!" my brother whined. "Hurry up! We're gonna be late for church!"

  "I'm almost done," I assured him, putting the finishing touches on my makeup.

  It was Christmas Eve, and I wanted to look nice for the candlelit evening service at my church. My family went to it with the McFaddens every year and it was by far my favorite part of the holidays.

  I capped my mascara. "Alright, let's go." So saying, I began ushering Jamie toward the front door. Our parents were already waiting for us in the car. We had to get there early, since Jamie was in the Christmas pageant and needed to get ready before the service started.

  After a short drive, we pulled into the church parking lot and got out of the car. My mother took Jamie to the Parish Hall, where the kids were putting on their costumes, and my father and I headed up the stone steps to the sanctuary.

  Mr. Anderson, who had been a member of our church since before I was born, stood at the door handing out the programs.

  "Evangeline Kaiser!" he exclaimed when he saw me before wrapping me up in a giant hug. "It's good to see you! How's Cornell?"

  "Wonderful, thanks," I replied. "It's great to see you, too, Mr. Anderson!"

  "I know everyone's dying to see you and Tully McFadden as well. We all need to do some catching up after the service."

  I nodded in agreement.

  Mr. Anderson shook my father's hand, giving him a friendly pat on the back. "Merry Christmas, Will."

  "Merry Christmas, John."

  With that, we headed into the church, an old building of dark wood lined with stained glass windows depicting scenes from the Gospels. Poinsettias surrounded the altar at the front and candles flickered merrily along the center aisle at the end of each pew. Our organist played a jovial prelude as the parishioners came in and got settled.

  My father and I headed down the right side aisle and sat down in our usual pew, making sure to put some coats down to save seats for the McFaddens. I knelt down to say a quick pre-service prayer before sitting back to enjoy the organ music.

  A couple of minutes later, both my mother and the McFaddens joined us and the usual holiday greetings were exchanged.

  Tully took a seat to my right and pulled me in for a hug. "Merry Christmas, Evie."

  "Merry Christmas Tully," I replied, a smile gracing my face.

  When we pulled apart, I took in my friend's appearance. His dark red hair was neatly combed (for once) and he had donned tan dress pants and a black button-up shirt with a red tie.

  In short, he looked incredibly attractive.

  I caught a few inappropriate thoughts flitting across my mind and mentally slapped myself.

  Bad Evie! You have a boyfriend AND you're in a church!

  My attention was thankfully drawn elsewhere as the organist began to play the processional hymn and the entire congregation stood, scrambling to find the right page in their hymnals. My dad offered to share his with me, but I de
clined. I knew all the Christmas music by heart.

  The choir and clergy began their triumphant march down the center aisle to the strains of "O Come, All Ye Faithful," led by a young acolyte carrying a gleaming golden cross.

  "O come, all ye faithful, joyful and triumphant

  O come ye, o come ye to Bethlehem.

  Come and behold Him, born the King of Angels.

  O come let us adore Him,

  O come let us adore Him,

  O come let us adore Him, Christ the Lord."

  Sneaking a glance to my right, I saw Tully singing for all he was worth, his face filled with joy. His singing voice left… well, a lot to be desired, but his passion was breathtakingly beautiful.

  Once we had sung all the verses of the hymn, Reverend Daly began the service with the opening sentences.

  "Blessed be God: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit."

  "And blessed be his kingdom," the congregation replied. "Now and forever. Amen."

  Reverend Daly lifted up his hands. "Almighty God, unto whom all hearts are open, all desires known, and from whom no secrets are hid: Cleanse the thoughts of our hearts by the inspiration of thy Holy Spirit, that we may perfectly love thee, and worthily magnify thy holy Name; through Christ our Lord."

  "Amen," we responded.

  "Hear what our Lord Jesus Christ saith," he went on. "Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind. This is the first and great commandment. And the second is like unto it: Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself. On these two commandments hang all the Law and the Prophets."

  The organist played a chord to start the Kyrie.

  "Lord have mercy upon us," we sang. "Christ have mercy upon us, Lord have mercy upon us."

  After singing the Gloria as well, we knelt down while Reverend Daly read the Christmas collect, adding "Amen" to the end.

  "Please be seated."

  At this point in the service, we usually had readings from the Bible, but because it was Christmas Eve, the kids were going to be the ones telling the story. While they got in place, the congregation joined in a chorus of "Go Tell It on the Mountain."

  Finally, a young girl of about twelve stepped up to the microphone at the front of the church. She cleared her throat. "This is the story of the night Jesus Christ the Savior was born, the first Christmas. It starts with the prophets of the Old Testament, long before Jesus was born."