Archives:
January 14-January 20, 2007

January 14, 2007

The common room has sort of a musty smell to it, as Chang and I walk in. Maybe it smelled like that before the break too, but it's strange setting foot in here for the first time in nearly a month.

“Home sweet home, huh?” Chang says.

“Indeed,” I nod, setting down my bags just inside the door. Observing the peace of the place, I go on, “I guess Dave's still on his way.”

“And Mike had an away game, right?”

“That is correct.”

Chang struggles to open our bedroom door, shifting his bags until he ultimately decides to toss them all down, and get the key in right. I smirk, watching him. More than a roommate, friend or brother, Chang is now my link between Taylor and Shermantown, and I sort of appreciate having him here with me.

I pick up the little foam basketball and toss it off the backboard, through our little hoop, hanging from the door. It's only two o'clock . This is a unique kind of afternoon at Taylor . I appreciate it for how little I have to do. I figure it'll take a half hour, tops, to get unpacked and settled. After that, I imagine Chang and I will play video games, or watch TV, or shoot hoops to kill time until Dave's back. Then Teri's supposed to be in tonight. Maybe I'll go to her place, or have her over here for a little while, to hang out with the guys.

While the low-stress nature of the day appeals to me, I'm also feeling restless to get going. I think of the work ahead with The Window, and for classes. I think about the application for an RA job that I picked up just before break, and have been toying with filling out.

I think about Teri a lot.

I can't wait to see her.

I pick up my bags and follow after Chang, back into our room.

January 15, 2007

It's nice, if a little strange, walking into The Window office to find Teri there. There's something very different about whom or what we are now. Against my instincts, I resist the urge to give her a kiss on the way in, only saying hi and heading to my mailbox.

“What do you have there?” Teri asks, as I begin to read the top sheet, walking toward the center table of the office. As she asks the question, she leans in close to me so the sleeve of her sweater is just touching the sleeve of my button-up shirt.

“Press release,” I say. “Looks like something about Groundhog's Day.”

“Thrilling.”

“Actually looks kind of interesting. The college is going to make a big deal out of it.” I hold up the sheet. “‘Live music, lectures, an open house at Vanderberry and a real live groundhog.'” I read aloud. “‘The event will go on all day, so all students will have some opportunity to partake in the festivities.'”

“So, in other words, the administration is trying to make Butterton into Punxsutawney for the day.”

“It might be fun.” I shrug. “And it's not like there's a lot of other stuff like this at Taylor .”

Teri looks at me. “You're just happy because this crap will fill up your section that week.”

“I'm envisioning a preview article the week before. Maybe a two-page spread the next issue.”

“You and that hard-hitting news,” Teri says, shaking her head.

January 16, 2007

“Hey guys,” Teri says, leading the way into her apartment.

“Hey.”

“What's up, Teri?”

It's only after I come in that the girls look up. A woman with glasses is curled on the couch, her laptop over a blanket covering her legs. She smiles at the site of me. “And is this who I think it is?”

Teri steps aside. “Guys, this is Preston . Preston , this is Phoebe, and this is Amelia.”

I lean in and wave a little awkwardly.

“I've just got to run to the bathroom,” Teri says, and kisses my cheek. “I'll be right back out.”

“Preston Burns,” Phoebe, the one with the glasses says, “come here, have a seat.”

“All right.” I smile, and have a seat at the opposite end of couch from her. The couch is really soft, and I remember sitting here with Teri just before Christmas, exchanging gifts. Tonight I just sort of sink into the cushions, tired enough that I could fall asleep right here, if I let myself.

“So you and Ter are finally together, huh?”

“Finally?”

“Come on, Presto,” Amelia says, stretching out in the recliner. It's not until she's stretching that I can see just how tall she is, probably close to 6'4”, 6'5”. “Our little Ter bear's been talking about you since Halloween. It was always, Preston and I are staking out the haunted floor this, and Preston 's taking me to the basketball game that. Then she was visiting you in the hospital everyday, sleeping over there some nights.”

“So are you all recovered from that?” Phoebe breaks in. “I mean, Jesus Christ, you were in a fucking coma.”

“Real nice,” Amelia says.

“What? I mean, can you imagine being in a coma.”

I raise my hand. “Can imagine it. Can vaguely remember it. All considered, I'm glad it's behind me. But yes, I am doing much better now, thanks.”

“I'm sorry, is that a touchy subject?” Phoebe asks, then turns to Amelia. “Is that too touchy?”

Teri comes back out, and sits on the arm of the couch next to me. She messes up my hair with her hand. “You tired?”

“A little bit,” I rub my eye, wondering if I look as tired as I feel. “That 8 a.m. class is killing me.”

“Well just imagine how 8 a.m. 's going to feel on a Thursday morning after a late night in the office,” Teri says.

“Late nights in the office,” Amelia repeats, shaking her head. “I don't get it. That's, like, something that happens when you're thirty, for your job. I don't know why you guys would do that for yourselves.”

I shrug. “It'll look good on a resume some day.”

“Good company there too,” Teri says, with a little smile to me, before sticking her tongue out at Amelia, who I'm confident was making some sort of face first. “All right, hon, let's get you that CD.”

I get up and follow Teri to her room, where she's going to give me a CD by some indie rocker that I supposedly have to hear. The minute we get in her room, she pushes the door shut, presses me against it and kisses me. From the other side of the door, I hear giggles.

January 17, 2007

“Presto, what the hell are you doing here?” Sam asks, coming into the office. It's a little past four in the afternoon, and I've been the only one here for the last couple hours.

“Just playing around with some layout stuff here,” I say, clicking to save my file.

“Layout?” Sam asks, walking over to his mailbox. “It's the first week back—we haven't even had a meeting yet. Did you get the memo that we're not doing an issue this week?”

“I'm well aware,” I say. “When we go back to press next week, I think I want to launch a new look for the section. Figure it'll be easier to work it out now, with some old articles, than trying to implement it and edit the new material next week.”

“Good planning,” Sam says, reading over some papers. “That shows a lot of discipline.”

“Well thanks.”

“I, on the other hand, am going to go back to my apartment and nap, before waking up to go out to the bars tonight.”

“Enjoying this Wednesday off, huh?”

“You have your discipline, I'll have my fun.”

“To each their own.”

“Catch you later, Presto,” Sam finishes, heading out of the office already.

“Later, Sam,” I say, my eyes fixed back on the computer screen as I move another column of text, intent on making the front page perfect.

January 18, 2007

“Cut, damn it!” Mike yells across the court as he stands at the perimeter, ball over his head, looking to pass it off. I can hear him pretty clearly from three rows of bleachers away, and by the time his teammate does make the cut, it's way too late, and the defense is all over him. Mike penetrates instead, then takes a pull up jumper that comes up short.

This has been the story of the game tonight. Mountainview College started off the game real sharp and hasn't trailed since early in the first quarter. Since that time, The Eskimos have seemed to grow more discouraged than anything, and slip further and further behind.

At the start of the fourth quarter, Mike went on an 8-0 run all by himself, to bring the team back to just six points down—the closest they had been since the first quarter. With just half a minute left on the clock now, though, the deficit is back to 10, and there doesn't seem to be much hope of a revival.

Mike has grown more frustrated throughout the game, yelling at his teammates, getting a technical after he threw the ball at an official who called him on a double dribble. Though his 19 points is enough to lead the team, he's not having his best outing.

Mountainview passes the ball inside and back out on the other end, ultimately firing in a three-pointer, besides taking twelve seconds off the clock.

Mike rushes ahead of the pack, to the other side of the court, and throws in a lay-up off a lead pass, but it's too little too late. Mountainview passes the ball in and then passes it around, eating up what's left of the clock. Mike yells for someone to give a foul, but even the coach seems disinterested, letting the game run out.

Mike hasn't had to grow accustomed to losing this year. More than halfway through the season, this is only the team's second loss, and their first one at home. He doesn't take it well, rushing off the court after the game.

January 19, 2007

The music's pumping pretty loudly as we set foot in the apartment of a friend of Teri and her roommates. It's me, Teri, Amelia, Phoebe and her boyfriend Geoff tonight. Geoff with a G he emphasized to me, drawing the G in the air after Teri introduced me.

The party's pretty packed, but I'm impressed by how large the living room is. If I moved off campus sometime, I imagine myself wanting a place like this—somewhere where there it isn't a challenge to fit my stuff, and where I could host a decent party.

In an instant, Amelia is handing me a drink, and I can't imagine where she got it so fast. It's a fruit punch that reeks of vodka.

We join the crowd, dancing and talking a little, though it's just about impossible to hear one another. Geoff's got his hands all over Phoebe, and I'm kind of surprised she's not pushing him away as he cups her breasts and moves his hand along her stomach—it's a little much. She just rubs right back against him.

Soon Teri's dancing very close to me, too, though, and I have to admit it's kind of nice. I keep my hands to her hips.

Amelia towers over us, dancing in the circle. She's sexy in a way—in the sense that you almost can't help but look at her, and she's a pretty enough girl. But the fact that I only come up to her shoulder is still kind of weird to me. Amelia gets one guy, and then a second dancing just with her. She's a little more subtle with her partners, giving them each the occasional touches that look like they could be accidents, just enough to make sure they both stay interested.

Teri takes a sip from her drink, then turns to me. “This is really strong.”

I nod, agreeing as I take a sip from my own, then lean down to kiss her.

January 20, 2006

“The next thing I know, we've got Amelia making out with one guy, and Phoebe and Geoff making out with each other,” I say, shoveling some lo mein into my mouth. We're the only ones in the little Chinese restaurant this afternoon. “So eventually Teri just asked me to walk her home.”

Chang pours soy sauce over his dumplings. “And did you get inside?”

I wave my chopsticks. “Kissed her goodnight at the doorway. We're not rushing into anything.”
“Aside from sleeping together the first night you got together.”

“With Matt in the same room.”

“I always did wonder about you two.”

I slurp up a long noodle, before breaking it off between my chopsticks. “So speaking of love lives, and whatnot, I haven't seen Claire around lately.”

Chang shrugs.

“What? Don't leave me hanging here. You guys on the outs?”

Chang keeps his eyes fixed down at his little tin container as he moves a dumpling around the it. “She's still calling me.”

I look at him, trying to read him, but he won't even look up. “Chang, come on. What are you telling me here?”

“I don't know,” he says, biting off half of one dumpling. “It's just—you know how sometimes, you just stop feeling a thing? It's like, she's pretty, and she's cool and all. But I'm just not seeing a future there.”

“Well, if that's what you're feeling, then that's that.”

“Yeah,” Chang says, looking past me, through the window, out onto Main Street . “That's that.”