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“Do you want to grab a coffee before your next class?” Karina asked, pausing by the campus coffee shop which was already filled with students who had the same idea.
“I’m good, see you around.” Karina was like a triple-layer chocolate cake. Sweet and expensive and best enjoyed in small slices and not too often. Too much made you sick. And that’s why we just didn’t work out. But maybe that’s why I kept going back, because deep down, everyone loved cake.
My phone buzzed in my pocket and I answered it as I walked slowly across the grass quad. Some students sat on the lawn, coffee and books in hand, some sat at the tables scattered around campus, already busy working on papers and whatnot.
“Hey Mom,” I said.
“Sweetheart! Just wanted to see how your first class went.”
“How’d you know when my class was over?” I asked, although I already knew the answer.
“I called your academic counselor and had them send it over. What is going on with your lab schedule? They overlapped you. I got a hold of the right people; they’re working on fixing it.”
“I’m aware, Mother. I already talked to them about it. You could have just asked me for the schedule. I already told you what courses I was taking.”
“Well, I wanted to know the specific times. It’s convenient that your day ends so early on Fridays, it’ll make coming home for the weekends a little easier.”
“I guess. I won’t be needing to come home for a few weeks though.” She was always trying to get me home.
“It’s just—” she sniffed, and I already had to enter damage control mode. “It’s just that we miss you here.”
“Mom,” I worked to keep the edge out of my voice. “I’ll be home this weekend. I wanted to surprise you.” It was a lie, but it kept her calm. I could sense a tantrum a mile away when it came to my mother. It was better just to end the guilt trip early.
She sniffled. “Oh, my goodness! That is the best surprise!” She sniffed again. “Also, just a heads up, I put some fun money in your account, take Karina out or something this week, I know she must be stressed with all those new classes too.”
“Karina and I aren’t together. Thanks though, I gotta go, talk to you later.” I hung up before she said anything else.
When I finally got to my next class,Theory of Design, I sat next to Aaron, a friend from high school. “Going back home this weekend?” We talk about it like it’s this big event. It’s a half-hour away at best, but we both grew up in that small town, moving thirty minutes away was like moving to another state at times. We could escape the established roles of high school and finally meet people outside of it. It made me wish I’d gone further, somewhere bigger. But my parents were footing the bill, and they preferred something closer. A mountain of debt or more space? It wasn’t a hard decision.
“Yeah,” I said. I was going to elaborate, but he knew me well enough to know why.
“I’m going back too; I want to go to the bonfire.”
“They still do that?” I scoffed, running a hand through my hair. I glanced at my fingers and had to chuckle to myself, wondering if any wet ink stained my face. I really needed to get tidier with those pens.
“Of course, they still do it. Our class started that tradition, it would be a shame to lose it. But I hear the cops are a little stricter so there won’t be anyone underage there, at least there shouldn’t be many. Mostly just people who already graduated.”
“It is supposed to rain?”
“No.”
I sighed. “Saturday?”
Aaron nodded, “I’m bringing your favorite beer.” He sang the last word.
I groaned. “I’ll be there. Just don’t tell Karina, she’s been a shadow these past few weeks.”
“I thought you broke up.”
“So did I.”
“Well, nothing better than a late-night fire that stands as tall as you and a beer in hand. See you Saturday.”
3
ELIZA
Iparked down the street like usual, my grandparents didn’t want my car in their driveway or on their property. They already had too many cars and trucks littering the place as it was. Two broken-down Fords sat in the yard. Grandpa swore he was scrapping them or fixing them, it changed by the hour. I just didn’t want to give him a chance to scalp my car. The double-wide trailer sat on a quarter of an acre and looked more like a junkyard than a home.
