by Jade Alyse
“I don’t appreciate it that you come back in our room smelling of marijuana,” she wanted to tell her. “You’re a stupid fool for getting involved with it! And you’re a stupid fool for getting involved with him! Where’s your sense, girl? Did you lose it in the cloud of pot smoke?”
She sometimes wished she’d have an escape, somewhere off campus she could go, where peace and quiet prevailed.
She picked an afternoon class time, leaving her mornings free, where she could sleep in, because that’s when Sammy chose to take her classes. She would walk all the way to Old College somewhere close to three, taking in the soft, chilly breeze of winter, counting the days till she got a break on Martin Luther King Jr.’s birthday. She hugged her pea coat close, walked into the building, shoving past the students, scurrying to class, convening in the hallways, talking of their amazing Christmases.
She could relate.
She walked into 113; saw a packed classroom, and the desks filled up quickly. Her advisor had warned her of a surplus of transfer students, and the administration cutting back the amount of classes offered that spring semester of 2001. So, she felt incredibly lucky when she found a seat in the back, one of only two remaining in the class. The teacher arrived shortly following, and just as he began to shut the door, he pushed through the door, nearly knocking the poor old professor over, scrambling to find a seat, his books nearly slipping from his long arms. He wore a red crewneck sweater, crisp jeans, and tousled black hair, appearing as if he’d just stepped out of an Abercrombie and Fitch winter catalogue. She wasn’t sure why she thought it, but she understood why Sophia might have been so protective of him.
He spotted her like a break through the crowd, and he nodded. She, on the other hand, found it hard to swallow, and she created the image of them sitting in the café, sipping chamomile tea in hazy candlelight, while she listened to him spout his woes about his relationship.
She’d given him his number without expecting much from him. She detected a slight sense of flightiness in him, but he did call, on Christmas Eve and on New Years, leaving voicemails each time.
“I’m not so sure what the point was of giving me your phone number,” he’d said. “But, it’s me…I’m just calling to wish you a Merry Christmas…right now I’m stuck in Saratoga…my mother and Sophia are out doing last-minute shopping and I decided to stay behind…I needed someone to talk to…and you…and you…never mind…goodbye…”
She didn’t answer the phone because she didn’t know what they could possibly have to talk about. She wouldn’t even give it a chance. He was different, starkly so, and she wasn’t sure that she could handle having a friend like him.
He sat down in the empty desk beside her, setting his books down, looking flustered and sweaty. She looked at him in disbelief. She would assume then that only God could perform something this uncanny. She wasn’t sure what she could say to him. Perhaps a quick ‘Hello’, and she’d turn her attention to the teacher. Act unfazed. Or maybe she would apologize for not returning his calls. Maybe he forgot about it. She would hope that he forgot.
What a jerk she was.
So, she remained silent, listened to Dr. Kelso, a semi-bald man with a potbelly and stained khakis, quote Socrates in a northern accent, and he stuttered to the point where she was sure his tongue would fall out. It wasn’t until they simultaneously snickered about how loud the professor got, when explaining some random theory that she was sure no one knew what he was talking about.
It was at that point that they looked at each other, smiled, and he nodded his head again.
“You never called me back,” he whispered, pretending as if he were writing notes.
She didn’t want to tell him that she didn’t take his phone calls seriously, so she simply sighed, and said, “I’m sorry…”
“Yea, well,” he responded. “You should be.”
“How did your break go?”
Brandon glanced up at the front of the room to make sure that the professor wasn’t looking in his direction, then he leaned over his desk to get closer to her, and said, “Terribly…”
“How so?”
“My parents asked about the big ‘M’…”
“The what?”
“Marriage, Natalie, marriage…”
“And? Your response was?”
“What do you think it was?”
She pursed her lips. She simply couldn’t understand why he was still with her if he had no intentions of marrying the girl. How crazy! But she remained silent, reached for her notebook and pen and attempted to pay attention.
“We can’t be friends until you answer my phone calls,” he whispered to her.
She placed her pen atop her notebook and looked at him. “Who says I want that to happen?”
“I won’t take that personally…”
Natalie didn’t know what to say in return. She only faced forward.
“We should go get something to eat after this class,” he suggested in whisper.
“What’s with you and food,” she whispered in return, turning to him.
“I like to eat,” he told her, smiling confidently. “And I have a feeling that you do too…”
“You don’t know anything about me…”
“I know enough to know that I want to know you better,” he said, leaving her to her thoughts.
They went for pitas at the Greek place around the corner, that chilly afternoon. They spent the next few moments, sitting at a cramped table in the back of the small restaurant, talking about how Dr. Kelso made them laugh, and at how they were certain that they wouldn’t be able to understand a word that he said in the following weeks if he didn’t stop stuttering so hard.
“Maybe it’s just nerves,” Natalie suggested, wiping her fingers with a napkin.
“You think? Maybe he’s just crazy…most of them are…”
“That’s a nice thing to say…”
“Well, it’s the truth,” he said, shrugging his broad shoulders. “That’s why I couldn’t be a teacher…”
“And, what might you want to be?” she asked, pressing.
Brandon Greene shrugged his shoulders, as if he hadn’t given it much thought. “That’s a good question…”
“And what’s your major again?”
“Business Administration, the last time that I checked…”
“Was that a personal choice?”
He shook his head. “Of course not…I wanted to be an astronaut, but both my parents warded it off as a pipe dream…so…in order to run my father’s company one day, I need the business experience…”
“And? What does your father do?”
“My, my, don’t you ask a lot of questions?” he asked, looking surprised, his blue eyes bigger than she’d ever seen them.
She wouldn’t admit to him that she was curious about him, that she’d always been that way, but something had held her back from asking too many questions. There was almost a part of her that felt intimidated whenever he was around her.
“My father is a contractor and owns his own business,” Brandon said with a sigh. “All the way up in Saratoga. He’s been building houses for years…I always used to want to help him when I was younger. I guess he always thought that I’d be the one to take over the company when he retired.”
“How noble of you,” she said with a smile.
“Yea, well,” he sighed. “I suppose someone’s got to do it.”
Natalie took a sip of her juice and said, “An astronaut, huh?”
Brandon chuckled. “Yea, it sounds cheesy, but we visited the Kennedy Space Center one year and I was hooked…for an entire year, my wall was covered with stars, and planets were hanging from my ceiling and I begged my mom for this flimsy rocket ship that I saw in a toy store, that you could actually climb in. Yea, I would take naps in there, dressed in my astronaut suit.”
“So, you really were a loser,” Natalie concluded, nodding her head and looking at him teasingly.
She watched his cheeks flu
sh crimson.
“Oh, really?” he began. “You’ve never wanted to be anything so bad that you’d take it that far?”
Sure she had. She remembered when Mama bought her an actual stethoscope for her seventh birthday and she’d go around the brick bungalow, placing the cool metal on her mother’s heart, listening to her heartbeat on cool, rainy autumn afternoons, when she wasn’t working. She would sneak up on her grandmother as she slept, would play doctor while Sidney played nurse, and three-year-old Maya played the patient. Natalie would examine her little sister, the way the doctor did to her, while Sidney tried to steal it away from her, making her cry when she was successful. Yes, for as long as she could remember, being a doctor was all she’d dreamed about, was all she’d ever wanted. Being a doctor meant that she could be a hero like Wonder Woman. She could make enough money so that her family didn’t have to work, didn’t have to worry about struggling.
“I’ve wanted to be a doctor,” she admitted to him quietly, playing with the napkin, twisting it between her fingers. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
He seemed pleased with the answer, nodded slightly, and said, “I can tell…”
“You can?”
He nodded again. “I can tell that you’re smart and that you’re giving…you’d make a perfect doctor…”
“I could be evil…a complete you-know-what…”
He shook his head this time. “No, trust me, everything that I need to know about you is in your eyes…”
Who was this boy, really? Thinking that he could see things in her eyes? What lines he was feeding her! He must think that she’s stupid. Yes, that’s it, stupid and crazy…
But, she was walking beside him on North Campus, beneath a blue January sky, a chilly breeze, and crisp air, heading in the direction of the Arch, surrounded by fading green shrubbery. It was then that Sophia called his cellular phone, probably demanding to know where he was, but he surprisingly gave her no clues. He only told her that he’d talk with her later, probably something she certainly didn’t want to hear, but did anyway. Natalie hated admitting that she was relieved, that she was enjoying his company, his laughter, and the fresh winter air and sky far too much to let him go now.
Yes, she was stupid and crazy.
But, heck, shouldn’t she get used to it? Seeing him a lot. After all, they did share the same philosophy class, and she was certain that she’d need his help. After all, he had to be good at that stuff. She didn’t like the feeling, but she liked the way he thought. He was easy, cool, peaceful, reminded her of the fresh air they walked upon. And he would be her key to getting a decent grade in that class. So, maybe she would pretend to enjoy his company, answer a couple of his phone calls, maybe hang out with him a little. He was an alright type of guy, surely not someone she could see herself developing some long-term, drawn out friendship with, right? She would simply enjoy his company for the duration of the semester; hope that it didn’t last too long.
In the weeks following, she found herself stressing more and more about that philosophy class, and less and less about her advanced chemistry class. She felt that her future lied in those four walls, with Dr. Kelso and his balding and his stuttering, with Brandon sitting next to her, distracting her, passing her notes as if they were in middle school.
Food later?
What the hell is Kelso talking about?
Did you read for this class?
If she failed the class she would blame him, no question. He, on the other hand, breezed through the lessons, raising his hand, spouting his opinion of existentialism and the Enlightenment, and why knowledge was this and why knowledge was that, gaining the good doctor’s praise.
“Good job, Mr. Greene,” he’d tell Brandon, smiling cheekily. “I see you did your reading. You’ve saved the class yet again from another pop quiz…”
Brandon, the Hero.
He never read, of course. He just knew it - everything about it.
You come with me to my chemistry class, she thought one day, and then I’ll be the hero!
When he wasn’t spending time whining on the phone with Sophia, cursing at her, arguing with her about pointless things, he was calling her, letting out all of his stress on her, or whatever else was on his mind. And she’d listen. Lord, have mercy, she’d listen, and she didn’t know why.
“My rent is due next month, and I’m flat broke…how am I supposed to pay my rent? If I can’t, can I move in with you?”
“No…”
“I’ll be living on the streets then…I’ll be one of those homeless people that sneaks into the library and sleeps on the bathroom floor…”
“That’ll teach you humility…”
“You’re not funny…”
“I’m not trying to be…I hear the bathrooms are quite…accommodating…”
And she didn’t know why she invited him over to her dorm one weekday night sometime shortly before midnight, when her roommate was gone.
Inviting boys up to your room, Natalie?
He brought a large pizza with him. “I hope you like pepperoni,” he said. “I love pepperoni…”
Luckily she did, too. He was dressed as casually as she’d ever seen him, grey pajama pants and a red Bulldogs pullover, hair tousled. She wasn’t sure why she invited him over, but she liked him being there. The dorm was just a little too quiet. Something about his presence eased her.
She was pleased that he brought the food, because she was starved. She hadn’t had anything at all to eat that day, and it was as if (in some strange cosmic way), he knew that, and delivered, with the best smelling pizza she’d ever encountered. Natalie wasted no time in picking up three slices from the box, before Brandon could even remove his pullover.
“Wow,” he said, his eyes enlarged. “I’m assuming that you were hungry…”
She didn’t want to tell him that she’d used up all of her meal plan meals for that month and was short on cash. That would have been rather embarrassing. Instead, she swallowed her first bite, nodded and said, “Yes, and pizza was the best thing for my hunger…”
Brandon only smiled. “Well, then…lucky you, lucky me…”
Natalie swallowed her next bite and said, “Can I ask you a question?”
“Certainly…”
“Where’s Sophia…it’s after midnight…won’t she be worried?”
Brandon lowered his slice of pizza. “I told her that I was bar-hopping with Scotty...she’s out with her sorority sister’s somewhere…I’m sure I’ll get a drunken phone call from her sometime soon…”
“She’s a sorority girl?”
“Yes…if you saw her, you’d be able to tell…she’s a Kappa Kappa Gamma girl…and I can’t stand going out with her and her snobby friends…”
Natalie chuckled. “That surprises me…”
“Oh yea,” he said, grinning slightly. “And why is that?”
“I always took you for a frat-boy, sorority girl and panty-raid loving type of guy…”
“Oh, ok, great, so you typecast me because of the way I dress and where I come from?”
Natalie shrugged. “Guilty as charged…”
“For your information, I hate the pompous assholes that hang around on our campus…they’re rude, obnoxious…and what if I typecast you? Would you like that?”
“Try me…”
“How would you feel if I told you that when I first saw you, I thought you were one of those neck-popping, finger-snapping, honk-if-you-love-Jesus, Praise the Lord, loud, annoying freshman girls…similar to the ones you brought to that party last semester…”
“Point taken…”
“But no…I’m trying to get to know you first, aren’t I? And from what I know…you’re incredibly intelligent, painfully quiet, slightly nerdy, and you act like you don’t need anyone…not the aforementioned type of girl…”
“Well, thank you…”
“You’re welcome…”
“And you’re not so bad yourself…”
“Thank you
…”
Natalie took another bite of her slice and said, “But you don’t necessarily have to get to know me…”
“Oh, really?”
“Yes,” Natalie said with a sigh. “We could keep this strictly academic…you know, with our philosophy class and all…”
“I see…”
“Once the semester ends, you can go your way, and I can go mine…”
Brandon nodded, she assumed that he was convinced, instead, he cleared his throat and said, “You know…I don’t bring pizza to just anyone…I don’t lie to my girlfriend for just anyone either…”
“I didn’t ask you to do either of those things…”
“You really try to make it difficult, don’t you?”
“Certainly,” she said. “When I am unsure of one’s intentions…”
He sighed heavily, clicked his teeth and said, “You’re right…you’re absolutely right…I didn’t have to do those things, did I? I could go and hang out with my girlfriend, or I could have actually gone to the bar with Scotty…but no…I’m sitting in a freshman’s dorm room, eating pizza on this disgusting floor…what does that mean to you, Chandler? Does that mean that I’m trying to get something from you? Not in my book…”
“Now you’re really trying to make it difficult, aren’t you?”
“I want to be your friend,” he told her with wide and persistent eyes.
“Why?” she asked quietly.
He smiled. “Because I still feel guilty for knocking you out…”
#
“Come with me,” he told her after class that following Friday.
“I can’t, we have a test on Monday,” she replied as they exited the building. “If I fail this test, then I’ll have to repeat the course and I can’t afford to be behind…”
“Study on Saturday,” he suggested. “We can study together…”
“You don’t study,” she said to him. “You don’t study and you upset me because you don’t study…”
“I’ll study,” he assured her. “Just come with me…”
