shouldn’t have gotten you anything. So what if we’ve only known each other twelve days? By the time my birthday comes in February, we’ll have been living together for five months, and even if we hate each other by then, you’ll feel obligated to get me something. I’m just saving myself from the hassle of feeling like an asshole when that happens.”
I return her smile, momentarily forgetting the fact that in the last seven minutes, I have somehow acquired an entirely new life, complete with autumn-appropriate attire and a gift-giving roommate.
Inside the envelope is a single black-and-white photograph of Caitlin and me, sitting side by side on the grass in front of what looks like a cathedral, laughing at some unknown joke. The photograph looks like something you’d see in a magazine. “What a great picture! Did you take this?” I ask, looking up at Marissa. She gives me a funny look.
“Last weekend, remember? At the Freshman Picnic.”
“Oh—right. Duh.” I force a smile, willing my heart to slow down. How does this girl I’ve never met have a photograph of me from last weekend?
“Since it turned out so well, I figured you might want a bigger version to hang on your wall. So I printed an eight-by-ten and am having it matted and framed. It’s supposed to be ready tomorrow.”
“Wow . . . thanks! Such a cool present.” I’m genuinely touched by the gift but itching to get out of here. I put on my best apologetic smile. “I really should get going. There’s a class I want to check out that starts pretty soon.” I move toward the door, hoping she won’t ask what class.
“No worries,” she replies. “See you tonight!” She waves, then disappears into the bedroom. I grab the course schedule from the coffee table and hurry out the door.
When I reach the courtyard, I realize that I don’t really have a plan. What I need is a place to think, preferably somewhere quiet with internet access. I flip through the course schedule and find a campus map on the inside back cover. It’s not exceptionally detailed, but the words Sterling Memorial Library leap out at me. Perfect. Now how the hell do I get there?
The courtyard, like the building around it, is U-shaped. The open part of the U faces a busy street, but there’s a high, wrought-iron fence stretching the entire length of the opening. Who gives someone a view of a major street but no way to get to it? I briefly consider yelling at someone through the bars but quickly decide against it. Probably wise to avoid crazy-person behavior, at least for the time being. At the base of the U is a wide tunnel through the buildings, which appears to be my only way out.
The tunnel dumps me into a massive enclosed quad. A quick glance at my map is all I need to get my bearings. The layout of the buildings, the size of the courtyard . . . this has to be Old Campus, which means I’ve just come from Vanderbilt Hall, the U-shaped building on the southern end. The library is just a couple of blocks northwest of here, so I head for the arched gate at the far corner of the quad. As I’m passing through the archway, a group of girls emerges from a door a few yards away, carrying coffee cups and pastry bags. My stomach growls with envy. The sign above the door says DURFEE’S and has a picture of a coffee mug on it. I dig through my bag for my wallet, praying that there’s money in it. I find four dollars and some change, enough for coffee and a bagel.
Durfee’s is bustling with activity. No one pays any attention to me, which is great, and the place is dirt cheap. I buy a large coffee, a sesame seed bagel, a bottle of water, and a granola bar for later, and still have a dollar left over. I’m a long way from L.A., that’s for sure.
As I’m walking out, two guys, both wearing polo shirts with the collar flipped up and smelling like day-old (okay, make that week-old) beer, walk in. They see me, look at each other, and smile. “Hey, hey,” one of them says to
I return her smile, momentarily forgetting the fact that in the last seven minutes, I have somehow acquired an entirely new life, complete with autumn-appropriate attire and a gift-giving roommate.
Inside the envelope is a single black-and-white photograph of Caitlin and me, sitting side by side on the grass in front of what looks like a cathedral, laughing at some unknown joke. The photograph looks like something you’d see in a magazine. “What a great picture! Did you take this?” I ask, looking up at Marissa. She gives me a funny look.
“Last weekend, remember? At the Freshman Picnic.”
“Oh—right. Duh.” I force a smile, willing my heart to slow down. How does this girl I’ve never met have a photograph of me from last weekend?
“Since it turned out so well, I figured you might want a bigger version to hang on your wall. So I printed an eight-by-ten and am having it matted and framed. It’s supposed to be ready tomorrow.”
“Wow . . . thanks! Such a cool present.” I’m genuinely touched by the gift but itching to get out of here. I put on my best apologetic smile. “I really should get going. There’s a class I want to check out that starts pretty soon.” I move toward the door, hoping she won’t ask what class.
“No worries,” she replies. “See you tonight!” She waves, then disappears into the bedroom. I grab the course schedule from the coffee table and hurry out the door.
When I reach the courtyard, I realize that I don’t really have a plan. What I need is a place to think, preferably somewhere quiet with internet access. I flip through the course schedule and find a campus map on the inside back cover. It’s not exceptionally detailed, but the words Sterling Memorial Library leap out at me. Perfect. Now how the hell do I get there?
The courtyard, like the building around it, is U-shaped. The open part of the U faces a busy street, but there’s a high, wrought-iron fence stretching the entire length of the opening. Who gives someone a view of a major street but no way to get to it? I briefly consider yelling at someone through the bars but quickly decide against it. Probably wise to avoid crazy-person behavior, at least for the time being. At the base of the U is a wide tunnel through the buildings, which appears to be my only way out.
The tunnel dumps me into a massive enclosed quad. A quick glance at my map is all I need to get my bearings. The layout of the buildings, the size of the courtyard . . . this has to be Old Campus, which means I’ve just come from Vanderbilt Hall, the U-shaped building on the southern end. The library is just a couple of blocks northwest of here, so I head for the arched gate at the far corner of the quad. As I’m passing through the archway, a group of girls emerges from a door a few yards away, carrying coffee cups and pastry bags. My stomach growls with envy. The sign above the door says DURFEE’S and has a picture of a coffee mug on it. I dig through my bag for my wallet, praying that there’s money in it. I find four dollars and some change, enough for coffee and a bagel.
Durfee’s is bustling with activity. No one pays any attention to me, which is great, and the place is dirt cheap. I buy a large coffee, a sesame seed bagel, a bottle of water, and a granola bar for later, and still have a dollar left over. I’m a long way from L.A., that’s for sure.
As I’m walking out, two guys, both wearing polo shirts with the collar flipped up and smelling like day-old (okay, make that week-old) beer, walk in. They see me, look at each other, and smile. “Hey, hey,” one of them says to
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