promised to tutor her through this class, but that girl doesn’t have the head for math. It’s going to be a long semester.
As my flip-flops slap against the tile hallway, my hip itches, and I scratch over the bone where my paw-print tattoo is. I got it before break, and when I get into the bathroom, I inspect it to make sure nothing’s wrong. Huh. It’s not red, but for a second it looks like it is pulsing.
Maybe it’s calling me. I shake my head as I remember the woman who gave me my tattoo. The metal hooks holding a vinyl shower curtain rasp over the bar when I yank it open to flip on the water. She said the guy in my dreams was real and it was some freaky cosmic matchmaking thing. I still wonder what kind of drugs she was on when that theory came to her. As soon as I got inked, I was so out of there.
I step under the hot spray, and the aroma of dirt like from a garden makes me open my eyes to make sure I’m in the dorm bathroom. Whoa. I cup water in my hands and discover it’s normal. How strange. I shrug it off when I realize someone probably watered their half-dead plants in the shower.
When I return to my room, I notice a steaming cup of black coffee on my dresser. I grab it and gulp down a burning mouthful. While my dreams are welcome back in my life, the lack of restful sleep means I need more caffeine. “I’m going to live.”
“What’s with you? It’s not like you went out last night.”
“My dreams are back,” I say. I told Lucy about them after my strange encounter with the tattoo lady. She laughed along with me. But she doesn’t look so amused now. “What?”
“Nothing. It’s just kind of weird they came back.” She’s smiling, but it’s not real.
I grin to relieve her worry. “Maybe I’m about to meet the mystery man in calculus. That would make the class so worth it.” I pull the towel off my wet hair as Lucy frowns. I add, “Dude, I’m not serious. That woman was cray.”
She shakes her head. “It’s not that. I’m just dreading Professor Gum.”
“Don’t.” I drag a comb through my hair as I glance in the mirror. Drops of moisture drip on my shirt to spread. “I’ll get you through this, and then you’ll never have to do math again.”
“If you do, I’ll love you forever.”
A button clicks as I turn on my blow-dryer, and hot air blasts at me. As I style my hair, I revisit my dream and burn the man’s face to memory. I’m not sure why I believe it, but I’m positive I’ll see him some day. And when I do, I want to be sure it’s the man of my dreams, because I’ve got some questions. Desire flickers in my belly. Lots of questions.
My first one is, why am I here? As a female engineering major, I had a nice selection of colleges I could have attended, and everyone was shocked when I picked UMO. Sure, their curriculum is a good one, but it’s not the best. And then there was the issue of my parents’ alma mater. Thankfully, my two sisters decided to fulfill that obligation by attending the small exclusive school a few hours south of here.
Silence comforts my ears when I turn off the blow-dryer and fluff my hair. I grab my mascara, and the smooth wand handle is slippery in my fingers as I twist it open. I recall the day I toured campus as a prospective student. I felt an overwhelming sense of peace being here. As soon as we started to drive away, a dull ache filled me, and when I got home I experienced pain similar to what I felt when my dog died. A depression that disappeared the day I arrived last fall. What the heck was that about?
I wiggle into my jeans. Yeah, dream guy. I’m going to need some answers when we meet. Lucy breaks into my thoughts with her words. “Five minutes. We need to go.”
I rush to finish getting ready and hop out the door as I pull on my boot. Lucy is walking briskly ahead of me, and I have to jog to catch up.
Once we get outside, the winter air bites through my thin shirt, and I yank my jacket shut and cross my arms over it
As my flip-flops slap against the tile hallway, my hip itches, and I scratch over the bone where my paw-print tattoo is. I got it before break, and when I get into the bathroom, I inspect it to make sure nothing’s wrong. Huh. It’s not red, but for a second it looks like it is pulsing.
Maybe it’s calling me. I shake my head as I remember the woman who gave me my tattoo. The metal hooks holding a vinyl shower curtain rasp over the bar when I yank it open to flip on the water. She said the guy in my dreams was real and it was some freaky cosmic matchmaking thing. I still wonder what kind of drugs she was on when that theory came to her. As soon as I got inked, I was so out of there.
I step under the hot spray, and the aroma of dirt like from a garden makes me open my eyes to make sure I’m in the dorm bathroom. Whoa. I cup water in my hands and discover it’s normal. How strange. I shrug it off when I realize someone probably watered their half-dead plants in the shower.
When I return to my room, I notice a steaming cup of black coffee on my dresser. I grab it and gulp down a burning mouthful. While my dreams are welcome back in my life, the lack of restful sleep means I need more caffeine. “I’m going to live.”
“What’s with you? It’s not like you went out last night.”
“My dreams are back,” I say. I told Lucy about them after my strange encounter with the tattoo lady. She laughed along with me. But she doesn’t look so amused now. “What?”
“Nothing. It’s just kind of weird they came back.” She’s smiling, but it’s not real.
I grin to relieve her worry. “Maybe I’m about to meet the mystery man in calculus. That would make the class so worth it.” I pull the towel off my wet hair as Lucy frowns. I add, “Dude, I’m not serious. That woman was cray.”
She shakes her head. “It’s not that. I’m just dreading Professor Gum.”
“Don’t.” I drag a comb through my hair as I glance in the mirror. Drops of moisture drip on my shirt to spread. “I’ll get you through this, and then you’ll never have to do math again.”
“If you do, I’ll love you forever.”
A button clicks as I turn on my blow-dryer, and hot air blasts at me. As I style my hair, I revisit my dream and burn the man’s face to memory. I’m not sure why I believe it, but I’m positive I’ll see him some day. And when I do, I want to be sure it’s the man of my dreams, because I’ve got some questions. Desire flickers in my belly. Lots of questions.
My first one is, why am I here? As a female engineering major, I had a nice selection of colleges I could have attended, and everyone was shocked when I picked UMO. Sure, their curriculum is a good one, but it’s not the best. And then there was the issue of my parents’ alma mater. Thankfully, my two sisters decided to fulfill that obligation by attending the small exclusive school a few hours south of here.
Silence comforts my ears when I turn off the blow-dryer and fluff my hair. I grab my mascara, and the smooth wand handle is slippery in my fingers as I twist it open. I recall the day I toured campus as a prospective student. I felt an overwhelming sense of peace being here. As soon as we started to drive away, a dull ache filled me, and when I got home I experienced pain similar to what I felt when my dog died. A depression that disappeared the day I arrived last fall. What the heck was that about?
I wiggle into my jeans. Yeah, dream guy. I’m going to need some answers when we meet. Lucy breaks into my thoughts with her words. “Five minutes. We need to go.”
I rush to finish getting ready and hop out the door as I pull on my boot. Lucy is walking briskly ahead of me, and I have to jog to catch up.
Once we get outside, the winter air bites through my thin shirt, and I yank my jacket shut and cross my arms over it
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