Our classes were pretty much what we expected - the professors were demanding and the material was challenging. We had quite a bit of required reading and outside class assignments, which unfortunately put a damper on our personal reading. I had read so much during the summer with the combination of the explosion of chick lit indie authors and my lack of a social life, and I was rather sad to replace my happily-ever-afters with quadratic formula equations and stories of the Spanish Inquisition. Evie and I had Biology and Algebra together. Both classes were your run-of-the-mill freshman college class. The professors were dull and the material was even worse. I hated math and science which is why I specifically chose to take these with her, I hoped her tutoring could get me through with at least a B. My other academic classes, History and English, I enjoyed quite a bit and really didn’t mind the excessive reading and writing. All of my professors were women; however, Evie had two male teachers, one of which she had deemed a BB possibility. She was working on finding out more information about his personal life because all she knew thus far was that he didn’t wear a wedding ring. I have to admit, I was a tad bit jealous, but at the moment I would just have to live out that fantasy vicariously through her.
Dylan texted me a brief good morning each day before class, but after our Wednesday evening text exchange grew outrageously long, he called on Thursday claiming his fingers were still sore from the night before and unable to perform. I preferred the phone call to the texts anyways, I loved hearing his voice and his warm, hearty laugh always brought a huge smile to my face. I couldn’t help but asking him teasingly if there were other parts of his body incapable of performing on consecutive days, which he assured me there weren’t. I was glad he couldn’t see the bright shade of red I turned the moment the words left my mouth. My brashness probably shocked me more than it did him, and I was a tiny bit proud of myself for being able to conjure up a witty comeback. Our conversations were easy and comfortable, never forced or awkward. We talked a lot about our childhoods and families. I learned that he was born and raised in Chicago and that he was the oldest of three kids, he had a sister four years younger than him(,) and a brother two years behind her. All of his immediate family still lived in the Chicago area even though his parents were divorced. He had come to Houston because of the scholarships he had been offered by the University of St. Thomas, and he had an older cousin that lived here that virtually allowed him to live rent free. He also said he had been ready for milder winters; as the oldest male in the family, especially after his dad left, he was always the one in his house in charge of shoveling snow or de-icing doors and windows. With each revelation about himself, Dylan became more and more attractive. He seemed to be someone who truly valued his family and he most definitely had a successful future ahead of him with his work ethic and drive.
I told him the little there was to tell about the events of my life leading up to college-ballet, music, soccer, and school. That about summed it up; I always knew I wouldn’t be a good character to base a book on unless it was one of those children’s book that had one word on each page describing the action depicted above it. In that case, I would have a four page book ~ awesome. Maybe it could be lengthened to six pages if we added ‘sleeping’ and ‘eating’- even more awesome. I was honest with him about my lack of experience, socially and sexually, but downplayed my parent’s controlling, irrational method of child-rearing. I just left it at “They are different” and “We aren’t really close,” which proved to be more accurate than I ever imagined.
By Saturday morning I was more than concerned that my parents had not attempted to contact me one time since I had left their house after our big fight - not a call, a text, an email… nothing. I toyed back and forth with the idea of contacting them, but I wasn’t quite sure if they were still that mad at me or if they were disappointed in me or what exactly their problem was. It pissed me off actually. For eighteen years, they controlled nearly everything I did or said and when I stood up for myself just one time, they let it all go? Let me go? They didn’t even care enough to make sure that I had arrived safely. Were they happy that I was finally gone so that they were free of my burden? That’s exactly how I had felt many times over the years, like a burden had been placed upon them to raise the most perfect child ever. When I didn’t win first place at a music competition, or when I graduated salutatorian instead of valedictorian, or any other time that I didn’t excel in something immediately, they made me feel as if I failed them on their mission. Well, screw a bunch of that. I was tired of carrying their burden of being sucky ass parents to Matt. Truth be told, they were sucky ass parents with me too, they had just jumped from one end of the spectrum to the other. I decided calling them would only upset me in some way and for now, it was probably best if I waited for them to reach out to me.
I decided that I needed a little retail therapy to help me get out of my funk over my parents, not to mention my clothing options were still limited with what I had bought the previous weekend. Evie had a headache and wanted to take a nap before we went out that evening, but she let me take her car to the mall. Shopping by myself was a new concept for me; my mom or Evie had always accompanied me before. I felt a little lonely not having someone with me and I missed Evie’s honest assessment of clothes I tried on, but I knew that one thing I really needed to work on was learning how to make choices for myself, no matter how big or small. Choosing clothes that I wanted to wear seemed like a harmless place to practice my decision making skills. A few hours later I headed back to the dorm with several bags in hand and a pleased smile on my face, feeling confident that I had excelled at my self-assigned task.
Evie was in the shower when I got back to the dorm so I decided to make us a quick snack before getting ready. Once I heard the water turn off, I called out to her, “Hey Eve, I’m back! Didn’t want to scare you!”
“Hey Sam! Did you find anything good?” she yelled back.
Instead of continuing the conversation through the walls, I walked into her room. “Yeah, I found a few things. I can’t wait to show you, I hope you approve,” I said. “It was no fun without you there though! How’s your head anyways?” I asked concerned.
“I feel better. I don’t know what happened, I just had this awful pain behind my right eye and then this nagging headache developed. Maybe I spent too much time looking at my computer screen last night and this morning, who knows? The aspirin and nap took care of it and I am as good as new now,” she smiled a bit hesitantly.
“Okay, if you’re sure… we don’t have to go tonight if you aren’t feeling up to it,” I offered.
“Don’t be silly, Scarlett. I’m fine. It was a headache and it’s gone, now drop it,” Evie warned and turned to her closet. “What are you wearing tonight?” she asked changing the subject.
I knew that the conversation was over, but there was still something that didn’t feel right. Evie had experienced several headaches in the last few months which was odd for her, she never was one to feel bad or get sick. Her parents had been concerned as well, but much like she just did to me, she assured them that it wasn’t anything serious and would resume to her usual cheerful self. I promised myself to insist she see a doctor if it happened again.