the doors to the campus center, I step outside into the warm afternoon air. I walk fast and hard, not thinking about where I’m going. I just go.
When I stop, I’m standing at the bottom of a grand staircase at the front of the oldest building on campus. No one uses the stairs. There are too many of them. Everyone enters the building through the back and takes the elevator. I climb the steps until I’m close to the top and sit at the foot of a massive pillar. I pull my knees into my chest and wrap my arms around them.
There are no words sometimes. There’s nothing to say to make things better.
There’s an hour to kill before class. Then, I have to haul myself back to the English building and face Peter. I lower my forehead to my knees.
Why do bad things always seem to happen in threes? Is there some cosmic law that I don’t know about? First Peter, then Tadwick, and then what? There’ll be a third thing, probably my job. Peter will most likely want to replace me with someone that he hasn’t seen half-naked. My mind wanders. I think about his eyes, his face. I can’t believe Peter has a doctorate. He doesn’t look much older than me, but I guess he is.
My life is a mess. Whoever said college was easier than real life doesn’t know crap.
Ever since I left New Jersey, things have been hard. It seems that I ran away from one problem and straight into another. Nothing’s gone right for me. I’m always in the wrong place at the wrong time. When God was dishing out luck, I didn’t get any. Instead, I got a shitload of someone else’s bad karma. Maybe I was a total ass in a past life and this life is payback. Too bad I don’t believe in that stuff. At least that would make sense. The way things are now, nothing makes sense.
My family hates me. What I told Peter about them freaking out when I left, it was true, albeit a slightly subdued variation of the truth. They wanted me to stay and take a job at the bank. Family is everything. Blood is thicker than water , whatever that means. But, I had this chance and I took it. I applied at a school that had a scholarship within my reach. They gave it to me along with the TA job and I’ve been able to support myself. I never thought I’d be able to do that. I don’t want to rely on anyone else. It hurts too badly when they let you down. I’ve fallen on my face enough times to know that there’s no one else who will take care of me as well as I can.
Maybe I’m broken. Maybe I am wrong and Millie is right. I don’t know. You don’t have to know everything. I lift my head and look up, hearing Tadwick’s advice inside my head, remembering his words. Some of the weight lifts from my shoulders. That’s his legacy—all the students he taught—all the positive influences he left behind. That’s his footprint. I wonder what mine will be.
CHAPTER 7
My stomach floods with dread as I walk toward the English building. I don’t want to see Peter. I don’t want to see his eyes. I don’t want to hear him say whatever he’s going to say. And I swear, if he makes up some lame excuse about last night, I’ll lose it.
I manage to get to the offices and slowly move toward Tadwick’s room. I wish I didn’t care. I wish Peter didn’t matter, but last night was so awesome and I thought we had something. I was wrong. I hate being wrong.
I drop my sociology books on the student desk since it’s empty. The office door is closed. I step up and knock. My heart slaps into my ribs and my pulse shoots into dangerous territory. I wait, but no one answers. I knock again and feel the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. A slow sinking feeling fills my stomach and I turn slowly.
Peter is behind me with a stern look on his face. “We’re over here,” he says, and walks away expecting me to follow. We cross the hall and enter a different office. This one is barren. There are no books, cats, or picture frames to be found. I step into the office, past Peter, and he
When I stop, I’m standing at the bottom of a grand staircase at the front of the oldest building on campus. No one uses the stairs. There are too many of them. Everyone enters the building through the back and takes the elevator. I climb the steps until I’m close to the top and sit at the foot of a massive pillar. I pull my knees into my chest and wrap my arms around them.
There are no words sometimes. There’s nothing to say to make things better.
There’s an hour to kill before class. Then, I have to haul myself back to the English building and face Peter. I lower my forehead to my knees.
Why do bad things always seem to happen in threes? Is there some cosmic law that I don’t know about? First Peter, then Tadwick, and then what? There’ll be a third thing, probably my job. Peter will most likely want to replace me with someone that he hasn’t seen half-naked. My mind wanders. I think about his eyes, his face. I can’t believe Peter has a doctorate. He doesn’t look much older than me, but I guess he is.
My life is a mess. Whoever said college was easier than real life doesn’t know crap.
Ever since I left New Jersey, things have been hard. It seems that I ran away from one problem and straight into another. Nothing’s gone right for me. I’m always in the wrong place at the wrong time. When God was dishing out luck, I didn’t get any. Instead, I got a shitload of someone else’s bad karma. Maybe I was a total ass in a past life and this life is payback. Too bad I don’t believe in that stuff. At least that would make sense. The way things are now, nothing makes sense.
My family hates me. What I told Peter about them freaking out when I left, it was true, albeit a slightly subdued variation of the truth. They wanted me to stay and take a job at the bank. Family is everything. Blood is thicker than water , whatever that means. But, I had this chance and I took it. I applied at a school that had a scholarship within my reach. They gave it to me along with the TA job and I’ve been able to support myself. I never thought I’d be able to do that. I don’t want to rely on anyone else. It hurts too badly when they let you down. I’ve fallen on my face enough times to know that there’s no one else who will take care of me as well as I can.
Maybe I’m broken. Maybe I am wrong and Millie is right. I don’t know. You don’t have to know everything. I lift my head and look up, hearing Tadwick’s advice inside my head, remembering his words. Some of the weight lifts from my shoulders. That’s his legacy—all the students he taught—all the positive influences he left behind. That’s his footprint. I wonder what mine will be.
CHAPTER 7
My stomach floods with dread as I walk toward the English building. I don’t want to see Peter. I don’t want to see his eyes. I don’t want to hear him say whatever he’s going to say. And I swear, if he makes up some lame excuse about last night, I’ll lose it.
I manage to get to the offices and slowly move toward Tadwick’s room. I wish I didn’t care. I wish Peter didn’t matter, but last night was so awesome and I thought we had something. I was wrong. I hate being wrong.
I drop my sociology books on the student desk since it’s empty. The office door is closed. I step up and knock. My heart slaps into my ribs and my pulse shoots into dangerous territory. I wait, but no one answers. I knock again and feel the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. A slow sinking feeling fills my stomach and I turn slowly.
Peter is behind me with a stern look on his face. “We’re over here,” he says, and walks away expecting me to follow. We cross the hall and enter a different office. This one is barren. There are no books, cats, or picture frames to be found. I step into the office, past Peter, and he
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