by Jessica Park
“We are. Don’t forget that I have my final pre-trip meeting tonight, so I won’t be home until late. Julie, hope your first day of classes goes well.” He patted her shoulder as he walked past her. “I’ll grab my gear and meet you out front, Erin.”
“I don’t know what time Matt will be back from school. If he isn’t home by six, would you order dinner for us from the Bulgarian restaurant? The menu is by the phone, and they have our credit card on file.” Erin tucked a strand of hair under her helmet. “Enjoy yourself, college girl.” Erin turned to leave and then stopped. “I hope this isn’t an awkward question, Julie, but do you have money for your textbooks? I know how overpriced they can be.”
“I just got my financial-aid check, and since I’m not paying rent now, I should be fine.”
“Don’t be shy about letting me know if you need help with anything.”
Julie could think of a number of non-financial things that she’d like help with. Gee, would you like to tell me why the hell your teenage daughter is glued at the hip to a cardboard brother, has no friends, barely leaves the house, and is a complete social misfit? Huh? But considering she didn’t want to disrupt her happy housing arrangement, and the fact that Matt has specifically told her not to bring this up with Erin and Roger, she kept her mouth shut. “I can’t think of anything.”
“I’m serious, Julie. I don’t want you to go without whatever school materials you need. Ask if you need help.” She turned to the front door and charged forward. “I’m coming, Roger! You might as well get a head start, since I’m going to beat you anyway!”
Julie laughed and reached for The New York Times. She was a bit surprised that she wasn’t more nervous for her first day of classes. Eager, yes, but not the least bit nervous. She was finally where she wanted to be.
**********
Julie glared at the test in front of her. Fine, now she was nervous. She hadn’t taken a test since last spring, and she hadn’t even thought about anything calculus-related in months, but within three seconds of stepping into her class the professor had informed Julie that she might be able to skip Applied Calculus and transfer into Multivariable Calculus.
My, my! It was hard to think of anything more appealing.
Julie surmised that she must have just been radiating derivatives and explicit functions, because she certainly hadn’t requested the opportunity to place out. The only reason she’d signed up for calculus was to get her math requirement out of the way as early as possible, because who the hell wanted to be stuck cramming a last-minute math course into her senior year?
Julie crossed her legs and started on the placement test. She was alone in a classroom with a teaching assistant, who was presumably sitting with her to make sure she didn’t frantically call some math-geek hotline. Or Matt. But as she moved through the test, it turned out that she didn’t really need any help. Yes, a few of the questions were beyond her, but a lot of the material she knew either from her AP high school class or because she just… knew it somehow.
When she was done, the T.A. took her paper. “I’ll score this and have the professor call you later today to give you the results. If you’ve passed, Multivariable Calc meets at the same time, so you’ll have an easy transfer.”
“That’s excellent! I can’t wait,” Julie said, not bothering to hide her sarcasm. She wondered briefly if she could refuse to make the transfer if she passed, but that seemed lame. Even if she wasn’t aching to devote her life to vector fields, she couldn’t justify taking the easy way out.
Intro to Psych proved to be fun, and Dana was in this class with her. The professor, Dr. Cooley, was wildly enthusiastic about the field and even handed out copies of Freudian slip cartoons along with the lengthy syllabus.
Dr. Cooley erased the white board and addressed the class. “I know this is a big group, and I don’t want anyone to get lost. You have all my contact information and my office hours. Use them. I want to hear from you. I want to help you.” He turned and set his hands on his hips. “I like teaching, and I like students, and I want to learn from you as much as you want to learn from me.”
When class was over, Julie and Dana filed out of the large lecture hall. “I can’t stand these huge classes,” Dana growled. “These stupid required courses are always so congested. I can’t wait until I’m in Evolutionary Psych with, like, five other students.”
“You’re going to be a psychology major?” Julie asked.
Dana smoothed down her already immaculate straight bangs and wiped non-existent mascara smudges from under her eyes. “I’ve known for years. Both my parents are shrinks, too. Whitney has a really good program, and Dr. Cooley is highly regarded in the field.” She glanced at her watch. “Damn. I was supposed to meet Jamie at the student union for coffee ten minutes ago. I forgot how long this class was. You want to come?”
“I’d love to, but I have to get home, get the car, and pick up Celeste. Rain check?”
“I’ll hold you to it.” Dana buttoned her blazer with one hand and adjusted her stack of folders with the other. “Call me later.”
By the time Julie made it home, changed clothes, and packed Flat Finn into the car, she was running a few minutes late to get Celeste. She sat at a stoplight and swore. The gas tank was nearly empty. Dangerously empty. The only gas station she knew was in the opposite direction, and it seemed to make more sense to go there than to hope she passed one before she totally ran out. Pulling an illegal U-turn seemed a good way to christen herself into the world of Boston driving. She gunned the car down the road, swearing at every stop light, and peeled into the gas station.
As Julie jabbed the nozzle into the gas tank, she simultaneously sulked and panicked: it was the first day of her official Celeste duties, and she was already screwing up. Celeste didn’t seem like the typical kid who wouldn’t give a damn if Julie were late. Not that Julie could guess how Celeste would react to a shift in schedule, but she wasn’t dying to find out. She tapped her foot anxiously as the numbers rolled over in the pump. Had she selected the slowest possible pump in the entire country? Obviously. Come on, come on, she pleaded silently. The gas seemed to be trickling into the car, microscopic drop by microscopic drop. Who leaves the goddamn gas tank empty? After what felt like an endless wait, she had managed to drip a few gallons of gas into the car.
She got back into the car and fumbled with the keys. Why was she so shaky? Celeste would be fine. There wasn’t anything to be done about being late, and no one to blame. Except Flat Finn.
“I was warned about your frequent failure to refill the tank!” she hollered. “Not only that, but you’re so inflexible. And I don’t mean disciplined. I mean literally inflexible. It takes way too long to get you into the car, and you don’t help out in the least. I don’t want to hear any complaints about how I smacked your elbow into the spare tire, OK, Flatty? Just deal with it.”
Julie flew out of the station and raced to Celeste’s school. She pulled into the pick-up lane, nearly empty now, and slammed on the brakes, causing the Volvo to squeal loudly. Celeste was nowhere to be seen. She could hear Matthew’s voice echoing loudly in her head. She’s rather regimented… You can’t promise anything. Who knew what might happen because Julie was so late? She still hadn’t identified what had upset Celeste the other night in Finn’s room, but being this late and off-schedule would surely be a bigger deal.
Julie got out of the car and rushed to the sidewalk in front of the building. “Celeste?” she called. She ran her hands through her hair as she scanned a group of girls who sat on the lawn. God, she could feel her heart racing. How ridiculous that she was panicking about being a few minutes late to give someone a ride home. A few straggling students walked past her. “Celeste!” she said more loudly. “Hey!” She grabbed a boy with spiked hair and a ripped Nine Inch Nails shirt by the sleeve. “Have you seen Celeste Watkins?”
“The loser chick with blond hair who talks weird?”
Julie narrowed her eyes and squeezed his shirt in her hand
. “I’ll accept your insulting description only because I don’t have time to argue with you. So, yes, spiky boy who likely has a behavioral problem and outrageously disappointed parents, that Celeste. Where is she?”
“Sitting up there.” He nodded in the direction of the covered walkway that ran alongside the building. “But you could blow her off and hang out with us.” His friends whooped with laughter and made idiotic catcalls.
“That sounds highly entertaining. Really. I’m attracted to you in the most powerful way, but the odds that I might twist your mouthy little head off with my hands is increasing by the minute. So I’m gonna pass.” Julie released her grip on his shirt and turned away. Idiot.
She held her hand up to her eyes to block the sun as she walked away in search of Celeste, eventually finding her sitting on one of the concrete benches. Her hands were in her lap and her head hung down. This was worse than Julie thought. If Celeste were having some kind of nutty meltdown, Julie would never forgive herself.
“Celeste!” Julie waved. “Celeste!” Oh, no. Celeste wouldn’t even look at her. Julie kept walking closer. “I’m so sorry. Stupid Matt didn’t put gas in the car, so that’s why I’m late, and—”
Julie stopped, a proud smile slowly taking over her worried face. Celeste was not, in fact, collapsed in a depressive state; she was listening to Julie’s iPod. And tapping her foot. Talk about worrying needlessly.
Eventually Celeste looked up. “Oh! I’m sorry, Julie!” she screamed. “I like this playlist that you created for me!”
Julie giggled and put a finger to her lips. “Shhhh,” she said.
“Oh.” Celeste removed the earphones. “I imagine that I was talking too loudly just now, wasn’t I? I’m sorry. I had the volume at a very high level, and the world sort of disappeared.” She paused, smiling. “It was rather nice.”
“Don’t worry about it. No one is around.” Julie grabbed Celeste’s bag. “Come on. There’s a coffee shop I saw near your house that I want to check out. Big comfy chairs, weird art, mystical brews. It’ll be cool.”
Celeste stood up slowly and began to follow Julie to the car. “Perhaps you can take me home first and then visit this place yourself?”
“Nope.” Julie kept walking. “The three of us are going in.” She heard Celeste’s footsteps quicken behind her. “Yes, the three of us. There’s nothing to worry about. Move it, or you’re paying for drinks.”
“You have a very unusual approach, Julie.” Celeste caught up to her. “But I am willing to play along.”
“Good. So is Flat Finn.”
Chapter 11
Matthew Watkins “All one word” should be spelled…Oh, never mind. This joke is stupid.
Finn is God Considering taking freelance job titling potential porn movies. Working on title involving "Oh, Susannah," and "Pie for Me." Thoughts?
Julie Seagle Attempting to perfect tricky Boston accent, but currently sound more like Robin Williams than Matt Damon. Dammit. Success is elusive.
Julie leaned against the counter and looked up at Java Genius’ chalkboard menu. “I need a type of icy, frothy, coffee, chocolate concoction,” she said leadingly.
The guy behind the counter crossed his arms. “Do you mean a Frappuccino?”
Julie clicked her tongue. “Close. A little less powerful. Something more like… I don’t know….”
He sighed. “A Dunkin’ Donuts Coolatta?”
“Bingo!”
The barista set his forearms on the counter and leaned in to Julie, smiling. “We have a Mocha Heatbuster that I think you’ll like. Anything for your friend? Or friends?” The coffee guy pointed to the couch by the window, where Celeste sat upright on a couch, with Flat Finn standing next to her, facing the open room. At least nobody else was here for now, and Flat Finn could easily pass as some sort of garish advertisement for vitamin water should other people show up.
“Yes, two smoothies. A mango yogurt for him and a chocolate banana for her,” Julie said straight-faced.
He looked into Julie’s eyes, his own glistening as he tried not to smile. “Will that be it?”
“For now. One of us may need another drink in a bit. In fact, one of us may really need a drink in a bit. Those two are a lot to handle, but we’ll try to keep it down.”
“I’m used to it. We get all types in here. This is Cambridge, after all.”
Julie watched as he made their drinks. He had nice arms, and she involuntarily lowed her gaze when he turned around. Oh, my. He had a lot of nice parts. The styled black hair and green eyes didn’t hurt, either.
She reached inside her purse, but he stopped her and tipped his head toward Flat Finn. “Don’t worry about it. Your special guest entitles you to free beverages.”
Julie flinched. Goddamn Flat Finn was ruining a perfectly nice flirty exchange. “Thank you, um…?”
“Seth.”
“Seth. Thank you, Seth. I’m Julie.” She cleared her throat and tried to come up with an excuse as to why she was out for coffee with a flat boy. Telling him that a thirteen-year-old girl needed to cart around a flat version of her brother for a mysterious reason probably wouldn’t fly so well. “I’m doing an experiment for my psych class. Recording people’s reactions to the presence of a life-sized cardboard cutout in various situations.”
“Sure you are.” He stepped back and held his hands out to the side. “In that case, how am I doing? C’mon, what’s the assessment? Am I passing?”
Julie tucked her hair behind her ears and tried to look serious. “It’s not a question of doing well or poorly. It’s just an objective collection of data.” She picked up her drink and couldn’t help grinning. “But you’re doing well so far.”
“I’m relieved,” Seth said. “Do you want help carrying those drinks? That guy you came with doesn’t look very helpful. Chivalry is dead these days, I guess.”
“He has his moments. Now doesn’t seem to be one of them. And he’s not actually my guest.”
“So, does this mean there’s any chance you’re single then?”
She winked at him. “I think it’s too soon for you to ask me that.”
“Fair enough.”
Celeste was poised stiffly on the end of a purple velvet couch, a bustle of ficus leaves from a potted tree dangling just above her head. Seth set the chocolate banana drink on the coffee table in front of her and held the mango smoothie out. “What should I—”
“Just put that one down,” Julie advised.
“OK. Hi,” he said, as he held his hand out to Celeste. “I’m Seth.”
Celeste was breathing audibly, but she took his hand. “Celeste.”
“Mind if I sit down?”
Celeste sized him up. “I think that decision is up to Julie. You are interested in her romantically, correct?” she said robotically.
“I think it’s too soon for you to ask me that,” he said. It was his turn to wink at Julie. “But, yes, I am.”
“Let’s just let him stay. I’m sure he’ll have another customer any minute, and then we can talk about him behind his back.” Julie sat down next to Celeste and tried her drink. “As blended coffee beverages go, this one is not bad.”
“Maybe you’ll be a regular customer then?” Seth dropped into the cushy armchair in front of them. “Maybe all of you will? I would not complain if two beautiful women with a non-threatening guest wanted to stop in every day.”
Julie pretended to pout. “Celeste, I think he’s hitting on you.”
Celeste blushed nearly scarlet red and hurriedly reached for her drink. The pins in her hair had held up, and with the decent outfit on, she not only looked her age, but also looked especially pretty. “Julie,” she scolded softly, but the tone of her voice had lightened. She couldn’t hide her obvious enjoyment at being complimented.
Seth laughed and slouched over, resting his arms on his legs. “Ah, if I was only a few years younger, then definitely. As it is, I’ll have to settle for shamelessly hitting on Julie. What do you think, Celeste?
Do you think she’ll go out with me?”
Normal color had returned to Celeste’s cheeks, and she looked seriously at him. “How old are you?”
“Nineteen.”
“Do you work here full-time?”
“I’m a sophomore at BU. I work here a few afternoons a week and sometimes weekends. I’m majoring in political studies,” Seth said, accepting that an interrogation had begun.
Celeste began firing off questions. “Where do you live?” “Do you have misbehaved roommates?” “Do you have any pets? Do you have any misbehaved pets?” “Are you a good driver?” and on and on.
Seth, to his credit, answered every question thoroughly and respectfully. He lived in one of the dorm rooms at Boston College and had one roommate, who was a transfer student from Nebraska and so far had not proven to be misbehaved. No pets, as the college wouldn’t allow it, but one day Seth would like to have a pot-bellied pig. He had only had one speeding ticket (forty in a thirty-mile-an-hour zone), and he paid the ticket promptly and had never had a car accident. “No accidents in Boston is a big deal, so I want extra credit for that.”
“Noted,” Celeste said.
“OK, that’s plenty.” Julie cut off the line of questioning. She couldn’t help noting the irony of Celeste assessing anyone’s emotional stability. “I think we’ve determined that Seth is not a psychotic nut.”
“He doesn’t seem to be,” Celeste agreed. “I think you should go out with him.”
Seth clapped his hands together. “Yeah? OK, I have one vote for yes. I just need one more… one more! What’s it gonna be? What’s it gonna be?”
“Sure, why not?” Julie agreed.
“Yes!” He threw his hands up in victory. “Friday night? Seven o’clock?”
“OK,” she said.
“This is going to be a real date, I assume?” Celeste asked. “You are not going to take her to a tawdry, rambunctious college party, are you?”
“No. Definitely not. I promise I will take Julie somewhere nice. Dinner and then something else respectable to-be-determined.” The front door to Java Genius swung open, and a flood of customers came in. “I have to go take care of them, but can I call you?” Seth pulled his cell from his pocket and programmed in Julie’s number. “I’m glad you both came in today. You two are much cuter than the stuffy English professor and her mother that were here before you. Julie? I’ll talk to you soon.” He returned to his job behind the counter.