What We Left Behind

I can see what she’s saying. It almost makes sense.

It’s just that I don’t want to get to know other people. I want to be with Toni.

Being with Toni was the best thing about my life. I don’t want that to change.

Maybe it’s supposed to, though.

Maybe I should have listened to what Toni said that night by the fountain. Maybe if I hadn’t been so angry it would’ve made more sense.

“I don’t know what to do now,” I say.

“You don’t have to do anything,” Sam says. “Except your work. Let me guess. You haven’t studied since Thanksgiving.”

“Um. I did some reading the other day.”

“Right. So, my advice is to get out of bed, wash your sheets, do your homework and pray you don’t fail the whole semester.” Samantha stands and throws away the orange juice bottle. “Oh, and I would also advise against having sex with any more gay guys. At least until after finals.”

I smile at her. “You’re very wise.”

She pulls a Pixy Stix out of her purse and tears off the end. “At least one good thing came out of all this. With Carroll gone, we won’t have to watch The Flighted Ones ever again. God, I hate that show.”

“Me, too. Hey, can I have one of those?”

She gives me a Pixy Stix and we toast. The fake sugar burns my throat, then hits my brain with a pleasant hum. I have a new friend.

Maybe everything really will be okay now.

Maybe I can actually handle this.





17

DECEMBER

FRESHMAN YEAR OF COLLEGE

3 WEEKS APART





TONY


“No, no, no!” I shout.

The bright, empty white screen of my laptop shines back at me, the tiny, unintelligible error message that had popped up fading into nothing. Mocking me.

The computer doesn’t care how much I curse. It doesn’t care that I have a twenty-page paper due in ten minutes. It doesn’t care that my world is in a constant state of upheaval, with only one constant—the never-ending stream of work I’m still behind on.

“Chill, T,” says Ebony’s boyfriend, Paul, as he pokes at the keyboard. “Going all loco won’t help.”

“Well, I don’t see how it can possibly hurt!” I yell.

“It hurts me,” Ebony says. She’s sitting on the common room couch, typing on her own laptop. “There’s nothing you can do. Sit down and let Paul do his thing.”

I sit, but it takes all my energy to make my voice sound normal as I say, “Paul, please, please, please, please, if there is a God in heaven, please, tell me you can fix my computer. I will totally owe you forever. I’ll buy you, like, a car or something.”

“Whether there’s a God in heaven is open to debate,” Paul says. “You shouldn’t say that kind of thing to a Philosophy concentrator. If you’ll leave me alone for five seconds, though, then yeah, I can probably fix your computer. I’ll take that car, too.”

I grab Paul’s hand and kiss it. “You’re literally saving my life.”

“No, I’m literally not. You shouldn’t say things like that, either. It’s just bad grammar.”

“You also shouldn’t go around kissing other people’s boyfriends,” Ebony says. “You’re single now, remember?”

As if I could forget.

Paul pushes some buttons on my keyboard, restarts my laptop and hands it back to me. It’s working! My paper’s still here! I want to hug him, but I restrain myself.

I save my file, back it up in a hundred different ways and send it to my Expository Writing instructor.

Then I look at my watch. I’m already late. Again.

“See you guys later!” I say. “Thanks again Paul! Remind me to buy you a present!”

“I’ll be waiting on that car!” Paul says.

“I was thinking maybe some gummy bears,” I say as I grab my coat.

“Don’t forget, the crazy girls will be here tonight!” Ebony calls after me as I run out the door. “Wear a helmet when you get back!”

I couldn’t care less about Joanna and Felicia now. We’ve been avoiding each other successfully ever since their little “meeting,” but I have bigger problems than the two of them.

The guys and I are going out to lunch at a restaurant Brad recommended. Nance is treating us all because she got a summer internship at an investment bank in New York and she wants to lord it over us.

It’s Monday, the first day of Reading Period, the week before exams. Classes are over, so you’re free to obsess over how much work you have to do without all those lectures getting in the way.

Usually no one leaves Cambridge during Reading Period. There’s too much anxiety to be had. My friends are going out regardless, though, because my friends are insane, and because the lobster at this place is supposed to be incredible.

I’m the last one to get to the train, like always, and the guys give me crap about it, like always, and then we go downtown.

Robin Talley's books