Archives:
April 8-April 14, 2007
April 8, 2007
The sun beats in through the windows at the Front Desk. It really feels like spring today. There are a lot of false starts to this season in upstate New York —a few sunny days before yet another snow hits. Nonetheless, I've got a good feeling today.
I lean back in the beat up old office chair I sit in each week, a copy of the day's newspaper in front of me. I flip through the pages without absorbing a thing. I should be reading for my Shakespeare class now, but I can't imagine that reading going any better.
All I can think about is Teri. As much as we've grown together over the last few months, and as good of a time as I've had, I can't help feeling like we're on to something new now. I meant it when I said that I loved her, and now, all I want to do is be with her.
I think about calling her when I get out of work. Maybe we'll get dinner to go someplace, and sit out on one of the benches by the quad to eat. It'll probably be a little cold by then, but I wouldn't mind. It feels good just to be outside now, and to be with her. But then I think that now, more than ever, maybe I should take things slow. Maybe we'll both enjoy things all the more for not getting to see each other as much.
But I can't wait until tomorrow.
Maybe we'll hang out and do homework tonight. I know she has big projects looming for a couple of her classes. One's a group project, so I hope they're not meeting tonight.
Teri was hungry for pizza when we finally got up yesterday afternoon. I remember holding her hand as we walked to Luigi's, looking at her every few steps. Eventually, she called me on it, asking me what I was looking at. I couldn't think of a way to say that I was thinking of just how lucky I was to be with her—a way that wouldn't sound cheesy, at least.
I think if she was here now, I'd have the same problem.
And then she is.
“What are you doing here?” I ask as Teri appears in front of the desk.
She shrugs and holds up her camera. “I was just taking pictures of the space outside Smith, where they're talking about building the new dorm.”
“I told you we weren't doing a story on that until next week.”
“Eh, nothing better to do,” she says, biting into a little green apple from her hand. “So what are you doing after work?”April 9, 2007
Dave tears through the opening chords of Dave Matthews' “So Much To Say,” sitting on a couch in the common room. I bob my head, listening as I grab a water from the mini-fridge. He stops abruptly, running a hand absently over the strings.
“Why'd you stop? It sounded good.”
Dave shakes his head. “I used to play that song when I first got my guitar. I was just trying to remember how it went.”
“So I shouldn't expect to see The Axis covering it any time soon?”
“Dave Matthews? Wouldn't count on it.”
I chuckle, having a seat on the other end of the couch. “So hey man, I've been meaning to talk to you about something.”
“Fire away, Presto,” he says, looking down at the frets of his guitar, working through some chords without actually strumming them.
“Well, it's about next year, and where you're living. I'm still not sure what I'm going to do. I'm waiting to hear back about the RA thing, and all of that. But I was wondering if you had any plans.”
“Yeah, I'm actually planning to move in with the guys from the band. There's this house on Patterson that's opening up, and it's not bad. Living room and dining room—we figure we'll use the dining room for a practice space, or Tony might come live there, and help us with the rent.”
“Sounds like a good deal,” I say, before taking a drink.
“Sorry I didn't talk to you about that before. I mean, I know we lived together the last couple years, but I'm just looking to get off campus—that, and I want to keep focusing on the music. I mean Lenny's graduating, but he's actually getting a job in town for the year, just to keep the band together.”
“That's cool, man. Like I said, I'm just trying to figure some stuff out—so it's good that I know what you're planning.”
He nods, playing one chord softly. “You know you're always gonna be welcome at the house, dude.”
“Yeah, I know that,” I say with a smile, and look at my watch. “Anyway, it's about time I head to the office. I'll catch you later.”
“Later.” Dave says, starting to play the intro to the same song again.
April 10, 2007
“Hey, hey,” I say, coming home from the office.
Chang's standing, leaning over his computer at his desk. He turns to show that he's brushing his teeth, and holds up his finger for me to wait a minute. I nod and turn to my own laptop for the moment.
Chang leaves to finish up, while I change, getting ready for bed. I'm looking forward to hitting the sack tonight. I spent the last couple nights at Teri's, which I liked a lot, but it can be kind of hard to fall asleep together in her little bed.
“So how's it going, buddy?” Chang asks, coming back into the room, and drying off his face with a towel hanging in his closet. “I feel like it's been a while.”
“Yeah, it has.” Besides staying at Teri's, it seems like our schedules have meshed less and less as the semester goes on, and I'm either heading to bed before he gets home, or coming home after he's in bed, and making every effort to keep quiet. “But I'm good. I've been spending more time with Teri lately.”
“That's cool. I'm glad to hear things are working out there.”
“Yeah, she's a hell of a girl.” I head over to my own closet, and start flipping through it to find a shirt for tomorrow. “So what have you been up to lately? I don't suppose Claire's back in your life.”
Chang sighs. “If, by back in my life, you mean giving me the death stare any time we pass, to the point where I take the long way to class every Tuesday and Thursday to avoid her, then—you know what? It's easier to just tell you no.”
I nod. “Understood.”
“In reality, I've just been hanging out with Brad a lot lately. He's a really cool dude.”
“Yeah, it seems like you guys get along really well.”
“We do. And we're putting that to test next year. We actually decided we're going to room together.”
“Wow,” I say, heading to bed. “Well that should be fun.” I'm glad I didn't come out and ask if he wanted to room together again next year.
“Yeah,” Chang says. “I mean, it's been awesome living with you this year, and getting to know the guys. But I think it's going to be cool living with a guy whose schedule is more like mine. You know, so we can hang out some more and stuff.”
“That's cool. And, you know, I'm sorry we haven't—”
“Na, it's nothing to be sorry about,” Chang cuts me off. “It's just one of those things. We just aren't around much at the same time.”
I settle on a blue and yellow polo, and set it in the front of my closet. “Well, even if we're not rooming next year, we've still gotta hang out next year. We should be sure to do lunch, maybe make a regular thing out of it.” I head to my bed, pulling back the sheet.
“Definitely,” Chang replies, heading back to his computer, and clicking his mouse a few times. “Cool for me to kill the light?”
“Sounds good.”April 11, 2007
I open my book bag and remove the wad of mail I took from my box back in the dorm this morning. It has been a couple weeks since I checked my mail there, and it's sort of funny how quickly it can accumulate, even when you're not expecting anything.
Of course, most of it's advertisements. A few credit card offers, a little quarter sheet advertising a program in the hall. But then I come upon an envelope with the Residence Life logo in the upper left hand corner.
“Oh shit,” I say. Teri and Sam turn my way. “This has gotta be the RA letter. I wonder how long it was sitting there.”
“Couldn't have been too long,” Rich says from the sports desk, not taking his eyes off his screen. “A buddy of mine just got his rejection letter a couple days ago.”
I wave the envelope a little. “It's a pretty small envelope. I guess that means I'm probably not in.”
“That's true for college applications,” Sam says, “not necessarily for a job app. Even if you get the position, you would probably just get a letter now. You probably get all of the other paperwork if you actually take the job.”
I turn to Rich. “Do you know if your friend got a little envelope?”
Rich shrugs.
“You know,” Teri says, “rather than hypothesizing, you could just open it.”
“That's your problem, Teri,” Sam says. “You don't know how to use the right side of your brain.”
“The left side of my brain.”
“Hmm?”
“The right side of your brain is for creativity. The left side is logical. You're trying to figure out what's in the envelope through logic. That's the left side.”
“I would contest that we've been coming up with creative responses,” Sam says. “That makes it right.”
Teri turns away from him, rubbing her temple. “ Preston , why don't you just open the envelope.”
I do, at last, go for it, ripping open the envelope. In a sense, I'm not sure what I'm hoping for. I'm still interested in the position, but then, if I don't get it, it would make the decision for me—I could return to newspaper without a second thought.
Still, I smile as I scan the page. “They offered me the job.”April 12, 2007
“Congratulations, dude,” Matt says over the phone.
“Thanks,” I say, making my way out of class, and outdoors. I stop under the overhang, and feel like a jerk as people stumble, maneuvering around me. Still, I get my umbrella out and pop it open to keep me dry. “But the thing is, I'm not sure if I want the job.”
“But you were telling me Chang's got other plans, and Dave does too. So it sounds like this is your answer. Room all to yourself. Not to mention you can get it for free.”
“Yeah, but like I was telling you, I take this job and I have to turn my back on the paper.” I step around a big puddle, gathered in a shallow point in the pavement. As much as I didn't like snow, I can't say that this rain is so much better.
“You couldn't do both? RA by day, editor by night?”
“It's more like RA by day and night, editor by day and night.”
“Gotcha.”
“I mean, I don't know. Maybe it's possible, but it would just be such a pain in the ass. I mean, say goodbye to any sort of free time.”
“But you'd have Teri at the paper with you—that's something.”
“Even that's not for sure now,” I say, waving and mouthing hello to Brad as we pass. “She's talking about running for a board position with SA next year.”
“Going to the dark side?”
“Don't get me started. We already had that out.”
“And?”
“And I don't think it's great idea, but it does make sense for her. She wants to be their PR manager, and that probably would look good on a resume.”
“And would they give her a pitchfork, or would she have to bring her own?”
“Don't get me started,” I repeat. “Anyway, I'm getting near the office. I'm going to have to let you go.”
“Sounds good. Catch you later, bro.”April 13, 2007
I'm combing my hair in my bedroom mirror when I hear the common room door open. I pop my head out to find Mike come inside, wearing a wide grin. “Hey Mike,” I start, feeling my own smile fade, “and Pepper.”
“How you doing Preston ?” Mike asks in kind of strange way, speaking more slowly, more deliberately than he usually would.
“Yeah, Preston ,” Pepper says, carefree. “What's going on?” She looks kind of tired, a little disheveled.
“Not too much,” I say, looking back and forth between them. “I'm glad to see you back.”
“I'm just glad I made it here,” Pepper says, running a hand through her hair. “Left last night, and I was supposed to be in before midnight .”
I turn to glance at my clock. “So that would make the flight at 11 hours late?”
“Ten hours late touching down,” Mike says. “Hour drive here.”
“That sucks.”
“It's this stupid rain you have here,” Pepper says. “Makes me miss Florida even more.”
“But we've got you here now,” Mike says.
“That you do,” Pepper agrees, kissing him.
I feel like I should say something. All I think about is the last time I saw Pepper at the door, and how Chang leapt into action, protecting Mike and Alicia while they were in the next room. I wonder if Mike even thanked Chang. He hasn't spoken a word about it to me—at least not directly. He hasn't been hanging out much, though—taking his books and his basketball and not coming home until late each night.
I know I shouldn't judge him—or at least I don't think I should. I mean, all considered, what he's mixed up in isn't any worse than what I pulled with Veronica a year ago. But there's something about the secrecy of it all that bothers me. I wonder if he might get away with it, and what that would mean.
“Well, we're just going to drop off these bags, and then grab a bite,” Mike says.
“You should come too,” Pepper throws in.
“Na, I've actually gotta get to class.” I look back and forth between them again, forcing a smile. “You guys have fun.”April 14, 2007
“I just can't believe that.”
“I know,” I say, looking straight ahead. Teri's leaning against my side, my arm still over her.
“It's just, she flies in to see him, and he has the nerve to have done something like this. And Alicia—I mean, Pepper's her own cousin.”
I didn't know if I should tell Teri about Mike and Alicia—I've been trying to decide since I saw them together. It's really not my business. But then, with Pepper around again, I can't help thinking about it. “I know they weren't getting along before,” I say, “and he and Alicia used to be into each other—”
“And Mike's a cute guy. But what the fuck?” She sits up facing me. “I mean, what gives him the right to go behind her back, just because he's a big basketball star.”
The door swings open, and Phoebe and Amelia come in. “Hey guys,” Phoebe says. “What's happening?”
“ Preston 's suitemate is a pig,” Teri says.
“What'd he do?” Amelia asks.
“Screwed his girlfriend's cousin.”
“Maybe we shouldn't talk about this,” I put in.
Teri shoots a dirty look my way.
“Want to cover for you buddy, huh?” Phoebe asks, sitting down.
“It's just none of my business—none of our business. I shouldn't have brought it up.”
“No,” Teri says. “As someone who knows what's going on, you owe it to that poor girl to let her know what's going on.”
“And you really think she should hear it from me?”
“He's got a point,” Amelia says, looking through her purse. “ Preston 's just a bystander. And she wouldn't want to find out by her boyfriend's friend telling her. Not to mention that Preston 's got to live with the guy after.”
Teri shakes her head. “Maybe.” She sticks her tongue out, leaning back into me. “It's just disgusting.”