I decide to come to Gary’s defense, not that he needs it. “I thought it was a bit weird at first, too” I say. “But they both have really good voices, so I liked it.”
James slides his chair back and stands up. “I’d love to hear how this discussion ends,” he says, “but I’ve got to get back to work. Have fun, guys.”
“Try not to work too hard,” Gary says as James walks away.
We listen to a bunch more acts, some good, some not so good, before I decide to it’s time to bring the night to an end. I’ve been having fun, but I want Marissa and Gary to have some alone time. They deserve a reward for keeping any romantic stuff between them to a bare minimum for more than two hours.
“This has been great, guys,” I say, “but I think I’m ready to call it a night. I’m getting kind of tired.”
“You sure?” Marissa asks.
I’m pretty sure she knows what I’m thinking. And I’m also pretty sure she can’t wait to be alone with Gary, but she’s putting me above her desires. She’s such a good friend.
“Yeah,” I say. “You guys can stay, though. I’ll be okay.”
“No, we’ll walk you home,” Gary says. He looks at Marissa and grins. “I’m sure Marissa and I will come up with something to do afterwards.”
“Ha! Don’t get your hopes up, frat boy,” Marissa says. But from the smile on her face and the way she’s circled her hands around behind the crook of his elbow, I’m pretty sure Gary doesn’t have to worry about his hopes being unduly high.
We stop for a quick chat with James on the way out.
“Thanks for the passes, bro,” Gary says.
“Yeah, thank you,” I say. “It was a lot of fun.”
“I’m glad you all enjoyed it,” James says. “Come back anytime.”
I’m not sure, but I think he was looking at me when he said that last part.
Chapter 29
It’s Wednesday afternoon, and I’m sitting in algebra, my final class of the holiday-shortened week. I’m definitely not enjoying it, but that’s nothing new. Tomorrow is Thanksgiving, and I thought about using the holiday as an excuse to skip out on this class, but math is hard enough without missing any time. Judging by the number of empty seats, though, not all my classmates are as conscientious. Either that, or math is coming easier to them and they’re not worried about missing one class.
So here I am, bored out of my skull but trying to pay attention as the professor scribbles X’s and Y’s and other symbols on the whiteboard. Only twenty more minutes and class will be over. Then it’s back to the dorm to throw some stuff together for the long weekend. Mom’s going to pick me up at four o’clock.
The break from classes will be nice, and it’s always good to see Sam, but four days at home is one or two more than I’d really like. The freedom and the absence of bickering here at school have definitely weakened my tolerance for Mom and Dad’s arguing. I’ve been home for dinner four or five times since I had my friends over, but I only stayed overnight once. Dad drove me back to school on his way to work the next morning. I spent the evening taking Sam for a long walk and studying, so it wasn’t too bad. But that was only one night, not four in a row.
Mom asked if I wanted to bring my boyfriend home for Thanksgiving dinner. I told her he was never really a boyfriend and that we weren’t seeing each other anymore. I don’t discuss a lot of personal stuff with my folks, for obvious reasons, and I’m certainly not going to go into the whole Chris debacle with them, even if I wasn’t working so hard at trying to put it behind me.
Mom was disappointed—she worries about my lack of a social life. I think she’s afraid there’s something wrong with me. Well, guess what, Mom? There is something wrong with your daughter—it’s called poor parental role modeling!
She also told me I could invite any of my friends, which would have been really nice, but they all have family dinners of their own to go to. At least Aunt Barbara and my three cousins will be joining us for Thanksgiving. Cousin Jamie is only a year younger than me, and we get along really well. Plus, Mom and Dad usually behave a little better when we have company.
The rest of the weekend I’ll be on my own, I’m afraid. Geesh, I haven’t even left for home yet, and I’m already looking forward to coming back to school on Sunday. How sad—or how sick—is that?
Finally, the professor puts his marker down and finishes class by giving us our homework assignment. I’m out the door before his “Have a nice Thanksgiving” is done echoing off the walls.
Back at the dorm, I begin packing for my long weekend. Marissa’s last class ended an hour earlier than mine, so she’s already left for home. We said our goodbyes at lunch. I’m going to miss her—a lot. Most of the girls on my floor have gone already, so it’s quieter than usual. I can hear music from the other end of the hall, but it’s too faint for me to recognize the song. I wonder if anyone in the dorm isn’t going home, because it’s too far or too expensive or something. Since it’s a state school, most of the kids live within easy distance, but there are some from other parts of the country. For some reason, I think about James. He told me he hates his home town, so I wonder if that means he doesn’t even go home for the holidays. From what he’s hinted about his father, I wouldn’t be surprised if James remains on campus. Maybe I should have invited him to Thanksgiving dinner.
I still have plenty of clothes at my house, especially winter stuff, so I don’t need to bring any with me. I just have to gather my personal stuff, a few other odds and ends, and some of my books. The books will make a great excuse to disappear into my room whenever I feel the need. What parent could argue with a child who wants to study?
I pull my guitar case out of the closet—no way am I going to brave four days at home without my guitar—and I’m ready to roll. With so many kids already gone, I think I’ll be able to make it out of the dorm without seeing anyone I know. One of these days, I’m going to have to let Katie and Beth, at least, know that I play. Maybe I’ll tell them next semester.
Just to be safe, I leave my guitar propped against the wall inside my door while I cross the hall and push the button to summon the elevator. No sense standing there with my guitar case for anyone to see while I wait for the elevator to arrive.
The bell dings and I quickly grab my guitar and lock my door. I have plenty of time to step into the elevator before the door slides closed.
The short trip down to the ground floor is non-stop. Outside, Mom is pulling to the curb in front of my dorm just as I exit the building, so I don’t have to wait at all. Sam is in the back seat, bouncing around with the kind of excitement only a dog can manage. I’m happy to see him, too, even if I’m not bouncing around quite so much. I throw my stuff into the rear cargo area, out of his reach, then open the back door and give Sam a quick kiss and a chest rub. Finally, I climb into the front seat beside Mom.
“Hi, sweetheart,” she says, leaning over to give me a kiss on the cheek. “It’s going to be so nice to have you home for a couple of days. Your father and I have missed you.”
I return her kiss. It is good to see her. Both my folks—especially Mom—are usually okay to be with alone. It’s only when they’re together that they get on my nerves so badly.
“Yeah, it’ll be nice,” I say. “I’ve really been looking forward to getting a break from classes. It’ll be fun to see Aunt Barbara and Jamie, too.”
Mom smiles at me and starts the car. Away we go, to what I hope will be a very uneventful holiday weekend.
Chapter 30
I get my wish—Thanksgiving weekend passes without much trouble at all. Dinner was delicious. Dad fried a twenty pound turkey out in the back yard, while Mom and Aunt Barbara whipped up a bunch of tasty side dishes in the kitchen, including a pumpkin pie Mom made from scratch that was totally awesome. With Dad out back for most of the day and Mom inside, there wasn’t much opportunity for them to fight. My cousins and I shuttled back and forth from hanging with my dad outside to visiting with Mom and Aunt Barbara ins
ide while they cooked.
Mom and Dad have one big blow-up on Saturday afternoon. It starts with Dad complaining about eating leftovers again—uh, Dad, everybody eats leftovers on Thanksgiving weekend—and escalates from there. I grab Sam and take him for a two-hour walk. By the time we get back, Mom is watching television in the living room and Dad is busy in his den. I join Mom, who’s watching some old movie with Barbara Streisand and Kris Kristofferson. I guess he was a pretty good country music singer back in the day, but that was way before my time. The movie’s got some good singing in it, so I hang around and watch for awhile.
Sunday is pretty uneventful, by Mom and Dad’s standard, anyhow, and by mid-afternoon, Dad is dropping me off in front of my dorm. All in all, it wasn’t a bad weekend, not by any stretch.
I’m glad to be back, though. It’s only for three weeks this time, and then it will be Christmas break. That two week break promises to be much more of a challenge than Thanksgiving, but I’m not going to worry about it now. Besides, I’ve survived seventeen Christmases. I’m sure can handle another one.
The door to my room is part way open, so I know Marissa has beaten me back. I hear Taylor Swift singing “Last Christmas” through the doorway as I cross the hall. I guess Marissa is thinking about Christmas break already, too, although probably not in the same way I am. “Last Christmas” is actually pretty sad for a holiday song, but Taylor makes it sound beautiful. I suppose I should count my blessings that Chris broke my heart at Halloween instead of Christmas. That would have made Christmas really tough to handle—and maybe messed up my next few Christmases as well.
My hands are full, so I push the door open with my shoulder and walk in. Beth is here, sitting on Marissa’s desk chair. Marissa is perched comfortably on her bed. I guess they’ve been catching up on their weekends.
“Hey, I didn’t know you played guitar,” Beth says, her eyes fixed on my guitar case as I walk in.
Busted! I guess it had to happen sometime. I drop my stuff onto my bed and shove the case into the closet. I’m not quite ready to cop to my playing yet.
“I don’t, really,” I say. “But I want to learn.”
“All that Guitar Hero has you fired up, huh?” Beth says.
“Yeah, something like that, I guess,” I say.
I see Marissa roll her eyes at me, but she doesn’t say anything about it, for which I’m grateful.
“So, Roomie,” she says instead. “How was your weekend?”
And with that, the three of us launch into a long discussion of our Thanksgiving weekends. Katie joins us a little while later. It’s like we never left.
The first two weeks back at school fly by, and then it’s time for final exams. Whoopie!
Finals are way worse than midterms. Not only is there twice as much material to study and try to remember, but the exams count as a bigger portion of the final grade. So the pressure is that much greater. Glassy stares are the norm out in the hallway, and if I had the time, I’d recycle the piles of energy drink cans that keep the trash bin outside the dorm overflowing. I could make a nice little chunk of cash from them, I bet. I could probably make some decent money just from the cans Marissa and I are going through.
But, alas, there’s no time for anything but studying, eating and sleeping—and little enough for the latter two. I can’t believe I have to go through this hell seven more times before I graduate. I sure hope it gets easier with experience.
I do most of my studying in my room, but I head over to the library for an hour or two every day, just for a break in the routine. It’s also a good place to remind myself that lots of kids are even more stressed about finals than I am. Some look like they haven’t slept—or showered—in days.
I also make sure I take a couple of short walks every day, to clear my head and stretch my muscles. I usually drag Marissa, Katie or Beth with me, but sometimes I go alone. I don’t go far, just wander about the area around the dorm. I’d love to go the park, but that’s a longer walk than I have time for. The weather’s been cold, but luckily it’s been clear. I don’t know what I’d do if we had a rainy week, or worse. The walk breaks are the only thing keeping me sane, I think. That and my guitar, which I play for a little while every night, studying be damned. Marissa doesn’t mind—if she’s here when I play, she takes a break from her studying to listen. A couple times, she’s gotten up and danced to the music.
Thursday afternoon. Three finals down and only one to go, tomorrow morning. Psychology. That one shouldn’t be too bad, except I haven’t done much studying for it yet, because I had my algebra exam this morning and I had to give that one most of my attention. I stayed up until almost four o’clock studying for it. The test was a beast, but I think I did okay. I might eek out a B for the semester, which would be great. Better than great. If I only get a C, that’s okay, too. It’s math, after all.
I wolf down a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and decide to take a walk before I hit my psych books. I throw on a pair of gray sweatpants and a heavy, dark red hoodie. I’ve got two shirts on under the hoodie, one long sleeve and one short, so I’ll be plenty warm. I tuck my hair up under a brown knit cap and I’m ready to go. No fashion plate, for sure, but who cares? It’s finals week. And who do I need to impress, anyhow?
The cold air hits me as soon as I step out of the dorm. I shove my hands into my sweatshirt pockets and make a beeline for the sunny side of the street. Once I get my blood flowing, I’ll be fine.
I’ve gone barely a block when I hear a familiar voice behind me. It’s Gary.
“Hey, Heather,” he calls.
I turn and see Gary and James coming up behind me. Gary’s bundled up in a heavy gray State sweatshirt and jeans, with a red baseball cap on his head. James is also wearing jeans, with a brown leather bomber jacket. His head is bare.
“Hi, Gary,” I say. “Hi, James.”
“Hi, Heather,” James says. “How are you enjoying your first finals week?”
James looks even more tired than I feel. A stubble of blonde whiskers covers his chin and his eyes are red. His smile is alive and friendly, though.
“Ugggh,” I say. “Don’t ask. I’m bushed. I haven’t had more than a couple hours sleep any night this week. Thank goodness I’ve only got one final to go.”
“You should try studying for finals and working at the same time,” James says. “It’s no fun, believe me.”
“You’ve been working at The Joint this week?” I ask, amazed. No wonder he looks so tired. “Wouldn’t they let you off for finals?”
“Almost all the employees are students,” James says. “If they let us all off, they’d have to shut the place down for the week. At least they work with us in terms of our schedules. I’ve been helping out waiting tables, too, covering for some of the kids who have insane exam schedules.”
“I can’t even imagine having to work this week,” I say. “You definitely have my sympathy. And my admiration.”
“We’re heading to The Joint to get something to eat,” Gary says. “Wanna join us?”
I shake my head. “No thanks. I just had a PB&J. I’m taking a short break before I go back and hit the books some more.”
“Good luck with your last test,” James says. “And have a great Christmas.”
“Thanks,” I say. “You, too. Are you going home for break?”
“No, I’m staying here,” he says. “I can pick up some more extra shifts at The Joint, since a couple of the waiters will be gone. I can always use the money.”
I start to make a sympathetic remark, but catch myself, remembering what he told me about his father.
“That’s cool,” I say instead.
“If you get bored over vacation, come on out to The Joint,” James says, obviously remembering I don’t live very far away. “I’ll be working pretty much every night. It won’t be crowded, and I’ll get you the employee discount for dinner.”
“We’ll see,” I say, ever the cautious girl. “I’d better head back. Enjoy your lunch. Se
e you both next year.”
The next morning, I walk out of my psych final with a big smile on my face. I’m pretty sure I aced the thing, so that’s a great way to end my first semester of college. Now all I have to do is pack some stuff and wait for Dad to pick me up. It’s been a pretty eventful four months, that’s for sure.
I wonder what spring semester will have in store for me….
Chapter 31
“Spring semester” is a total misnomer, at least for right now. We don’t get much snow here, but we had a couple of inches two days before school started. The roads and sidewalks are mostly clear, but there’s still some snow blanketing the lawns, especially in the shaded areas, and lots more piled in long, rapidly blackening heaps along the curbs and at the edges of the parking lots. Nothing about the campus right now is remotely Spring-like.
But it’s still good to be back.
My schedule for this semester isn’t too much different from last semester. I have three required classes: English Literature, Introduction to Biology, and Algebra II—thankfully, that’s the last math class I’ll ever have to take! For electives, I have Introduction to Sociology and Animal Psychology. This semester will probably be a lot tougher than the last one, because I have five full-size courses instead of four. I don’t have anything as fun and easy as the vampire class—and believe me, I looked for something. On the plus side, I won’t have to worry about seeing Chris in class this term. If he shows up in one of my freshman level courses, I’ll know he’s stalking me.
I’m pretty much over all the surface hurt—the crying, the anger, the wondering how he could do that to me—but I have no idea how deep the scars might go. I was already a very cautious girl before him, but now I don’t know how I’ll ever really trust a guy again. Maybe that’s okay, though. Not every girl needs to be with a guy, does she? If I never have another boyfriend, then I’ll never have to worry about ending up in a relationship like my parents.
Mine: A Love Story Page 17
