by Diana Ryan
“Um, honey….” She walked over to me and put her hand on my shoulder. “We don’t know what you did last night.” She led me over to the couch and sat me down. Then she returned to the kitchen and poured me a cup of coffee. “Remember? You left Thursday morning for the Dells, and you only would tell us that you were meeting a mysterious special friend you met this summer. We all thought you had some secret boyfriend!”
“Yeah! We figured you snuck in last night when we were all sleeping.” Elaina moved from her spot on the loveseat over to my side on the couch. “Are you sure you’re feeling okay?”
I had no idea what she was talking about, and my head was beginning to pound. “Secret boyfriend?” I said under my breath. “What day is it?”
“It’s Sunday the 14th.” Sharon had poured herself a cup of coffee and joined us on the couch.
I tried to make sense of the calendar in my head. “May 14th?” I took a sip of my coffee, concerned that that didn’t seem right. Or was it summer? Why was I with my college friends?
Wake up, Ava.
“No, honey,” Elaina said slowly. “October 14th.” She looked quite worried now. “Why don’t you head back to bed for a while? I don’t think you’re all the way awake yet.”
October 14th? October 14th! What happened to summer?
The room began to spin and my arm started to ache again. I handed off my mug of coffee to Sharon and stood up. “I think I’m going to head back to bed. I’ll see you guys later.”
I rushed down the hallway to the room on the end. I shut the door to my bedroom and leaned up against the back of it. What was going on? Why couldn’t I remember anything? I had been going to school for a whole month already? I couldn’t seem to pull any memories of sitting in classes this year. Confused, I lay down on the bed and pulled the blankets over my head. I let out a frustrated grunt and wondered what I should do next.
I rolled over and picked up my phone off the rectangular bedside table, turning it in my hands for a moment, and then dialed my mother. Leaning far over into the wall to find the perfect spot, I listened to the phone ring.
“Hey, hon! How are you?”
“Hi, Mom. I’m alright.” I was hoping she wouldn’t hear the concern in my voice.
“What are you and the girls up to today?” Dishes clanked in the background.
“I’m not sure. I think I have a paper to write,” I lied. “We’ll probably just hang around here and do our homework.”
“Well, that’s no fun!” My mother laughed. “Naw, actually, I’m really proud of you, Ava. This will be your best semester yet.”
I had a feeling getting good grades was extra important to me, but I couldn’t quite remember why.
“Hey, Mom.” I wasn’t sure how to ask this without giving away my problem. “What have you and Dad been up to lately?”
Come on Mom, help me out. I’m going insane.
“Let’s see. After you left the house Saturday afternoon, your dad and I went out to the farmer’s market and then to dinner at The Wilderness. They have the best shrimp and steak special in October. We just couldn’t resist!”
So I was at home this past weekend and it is October.
Dammit, what was going on in my head?
My mind was still very cloudy, and I just couldn’t put anything together to make sense.
“Did you miss me already, hon? I just saw you, you know!” My mother laughed her wonderful laugh, inducing a homesick heartache in my chest. “Well, here’s a kiss for ya—muah!”
“Thanks, Mom. Yes, that’s exactly why I called,” I lied again.
“Well I’ve gotta get going. Dad had to run to work, but I’m off to church. Love you!”
“Love you too, Mom.” Then she hung up and I held the phone to my ear for another few seconds, staring up at the ceiling. A tear flowed from under my eyelid, down my cheek, and into my ear. Maybe I did need some more sleep. I hung up the phone, put it on the table, and rolled over toward the wall. I prayed that when I woke up my mind would be clear and this strange nightmare would be over. Soon my breathing was slow and even, and my eyelids began to feel heavy. I knew I’d be out in a matter of seconds.
Chapter Three
My phone’s alarm woke me up. I rolled over to turn off the annoying sound.
7:30…7:30! In the morning?
I jumped up on top of my bed and looked out the tiny window near the ceiling. The sun was rising off to the right. I had slept through the entire day and all night?
My stomach ached with hunger, so I grabbed a granola bar out of the box on my bookshelf. As I chewed, I thought about yesterday morning’s events and scanned the room for some clues to jog my memory. I saw framed pictures of my family and friends, and remembered everything about when those pictures were taken. I could remember last year and events from when I was a younger.
I grabbed my silky green robe off the hook on the back of the door, and headed down the hallway. All the bedroom doors were closed.
Yes, right. I was the only one who had an eight o’clock Monday morning. Eight a.m. Monday morning…hmmm…Bio 101. I smiled. Were things starting to come back to me? I could picture myself sitting in the lecture hall in the science building. I was still smiling as I turned the water on. The cloud hanging over my head was lifting as I woke up, and the pain in my arm had pretty much gone away.
What was my problem yesterday?
I knew exactly how to get to my biology lecture, and felt strangely proud of that fact. Biology was a bore, as usual, but being the serious student that I for some reason felt I wanted to be, I took notes and tried to pay attention. I couldn’t help my pen from making random doodles on the margins of my paper, however. About halfway through the lecture I had drawn a beautiful tree up the left side of the notebook and extended the branches over the top margin. I added some fall leaves turning colors all over the branches. Then I sketched myself sitting on a limb part of the way up the tree. Standing near the trunk I drew a very handsome man with dark hair and sideburns talking on his cell phone. It was an odd thing to draw, but perhaps my pen was listening to the lecture on the biological classification of trees. And the man? Well, I always thought I’d meet my husband in college. Maybe he’ll have dark hair and sideburns and, of course, be as handsome as a movie star.
After class I took a detour to the student center instead of going straight home. I wanted to stay away from the house for a while until my memory returned to me a little more. I couldn’t confront my roommates until I knew what was going on with me.
The student center at UWSP is basically a hodgepodge of institutions that don’t fit anywhere else on campus. It’s home to the bookstore, a cafeteria, a large banquet hall, meeting rooms, the gift store, student lounges, Greek Headquarters, and the Cardio Center. I found a nice comfy couch on the second floor lounge by the fireplaces and took a seat all the way to one side. Any luck and some hottie would take the other half of the couch. I let my dark blue backpack sit on the floor at my feet, and decided to people watch for a while.
There was a lot of action this time of day, and I had plenty of people to observe. Although the weather had turned pretty brisk, many of the guys were still wearing their summer shorts. It’s a Wisconsin thing—we try to hold onto summer as long as we possibly can because an undoubtedly long and cold winter is always on its way. Alternately, many of the women were still wearing their warm-month flip-flops. My toenails were painted red and peeking out of the toe of my sandals. They wouldn’t see socks until the snow flies…which could be any day.
I casually scanned the room and this time someone caught my eye. Sitting all the way on the other side of the room on a couch near the exit was an extremely handsome man. He stood out among the college crowd wearing a fancy suit. Only a professor would be wearing a suit on campus, and he seemed too young to be a professor.
I took a good look at his face and felt mild pain behind my eyes and an uncomfortable pinch in my heart. He was staring straight at me—smiling an adorable, sweet s
mile. The headache got worse, but he was drop-dead gorgeous and I couldn’t take my eyes of him.
He smiled and I was suddenly overcome with embarrassment. Panic forced me to quickly avert my eyes to the floor and try to calm my heart drilling out of my chest. Perhaps if I pretended to dig in my backpack for something, I could steal another look at his perfect face. My tiny brown eyes peered through the space under my upturned elbow, but the couch was empty. He was gone. I popped up and whipped my head around, checking all the chairs and couches in the lounge.
No suit anywhere.
Suddenly something purple smushed into my face. A large torso wearing a UWSP T-shirt had tripped over my backpack and landed half on top of me and half on the open space of the couch. Sharp pain radiated from my curiously injured arm, and I grunted as I tried my best to push the big lug off of me.
People around us laughed as the guy struggled to get unwrapped. His legs and feet were still tangled within the straps of my backpack. “Sorry, sorry! Oh bugger!”
An overpowering British accent forced me to assume he was an exchange student. The guy reached down and finally unwrapped my backpack strap from his ankles, but stepped on my bare toes in the process.
“Ow!”
“Oh bloody hell, so sorry!”
Finally free of me, he sat down on the empty spot of the couch. The guy looked older than the average college student, and had buttery blond hair that lay longer than his ears. A hideous, large cowlick flipped right above the middle of his forehead. I imagined a tiny surfboard with a little Hawaiian dude sliding through the middle. I wanted to tell him that seat was reserved for someone with better hair, but didn’t have the heart to.
“Are you okay?” His awkward hands were all over me like I was being frisked by airport security. I slapped his paws away and he pulled back considerably.
“Yeah, I guess,” I said, sarcasm laced through my voice. My fingers brushed the brown hair out of my eyes, my heart wanting this loser to leave.
I scanned the room. Where did that handsome, fancy guy go?
But the creep kept talking. The accent was already starting to get a little annoying. It was like I had to strain my ears to determine what he was saying.
“Are you sure you’re doing alright? Looks like I got your arm,” he said pointing. It took me a second to understand what he was saying and then I looked down. I hadn’t noticed I was rubbing it, so I stopped abruptly.
“Look. I said I’m fine.” Then for the first time since I got trampled, I looked the guy straight in the eye. He radiated an average, very ordinary vibe. I flashed him my best “scram” look.
Ah, there!
In my line of sight, right past the guy’s kind of large head, I thought I saw someone wearing a dark suit near the exit. I leaned over ever so slightly to see past, but that put my head to rest on Mr. Creep’s shoulder for half a second.
Shoot.
He got the wrong idea and slid an arm around my left shoulder. Apparently my “scram” look needed a little work.
That was enough foolishness. I stood up quickly and grabbed my backpack, peering at my pretend watch. “Hey, look at the time! I gotta go to class.”
“Wait!” he yelled a little too loud and half the room stopped to look at us.
I have to get out of here, and fast!
But against my better judgment, I faced him once more. “What?” I asked impatiently. I had a bad feeling he’d follow me if I fled the room.
“Do you know how much a polar bear weighs?”
“Excuse me?” This guy was unbelievable.
He stood up and held out a hand to shake. “Enough to break the ice. My name is Adam Greene, and it was a great pleasure bumping into you.”
Wow, two horrible jokes in one breath.
A laugh and a smile snuck out beyond my control. He reminded me of my dad—always a joke. Always a bad joke.
I guess I may have reacted a little harshly. I shook his hand cordially. “Nice to meet you, Adam. I’m Ava Gardner. See you around campus.” I tried to let go of his hand, but he held on tight and stared deep into my eyes.
“I certainly hope that is the case, Ava Gardner.” His ordinary smile pulled back to display some actually handsome teeth. Adam pleasantly held my gaze for a few seconds. Suddenly this guy was in fact quite charming and seemed to remind me of someone, I just couldn’t think of who. He let go of my hand, winked at me, and turned on his heel to walk off toward the front exit.
I watched Adam stroll away without looking back. Somehow I couldn’t take my eyes off him until he was out of my sight.
What just happened?
I had intense feelings of hatred toward my molester and then in a matter of minutes he somehow brainwashed me into feeling a little gooey inside. I shook my head, trying to clear it like a magic eight ball. “Outcome unclear,” I said out loud as I turned and walked toward the opposite door.
The walk home should have taken approximately forty-five seconds, but it was such a nice day outside I decided to take a detour around the backside of the block, breathing in the brisk autumn air. I finally descended down the steps and through the door to our basement apartment, where I was greeted by the delicious smell of grilled cheese the instant I walked in the door.
Kasie was at the stove. “Hey, sleeping beauty! We missed you yesterday.” She smiled as she flipped the golden brown sandwich in the pan.
“Yeah, I can’t believe I slept that long!” I opened up the fridge and took out a Diet Coke. “And I can’t believe you guys didn’t wake me up!”
“The girls said you just weren’t yourself and thought you probably needed to catch up on some sleep.” She got the ketchup from the fridge. “Are you feeling better?”
“Yes. Absolutely.” I took a seat on the couch and turned on the TV. It was quiet around the apartment. “The others at class?”
“Yup. Do you want a sandwich?” Kasie plated her grilled cheese and squirted a blob of ketchup on the side for dipping.
“No thanks. I can make myself something in a few minutes.” I absentmindedly flipped through the stations. Two hundred channels and never anything to watch.
Kasie brought her plate over to the living room and took a spot on the loveseat across from me. “So, how are things?”
Hmmm. That might be girl code for, What the hell was up with you yesterday?
“Listen, I just had some weird headache thing going on. I promise, I am much better today!”
Half-truth. I was better, but still not the Ava I was used to.
“Good, because it’s Monday and you know what that means?”
Then we both said at the same time, “Karaoke Night!”
Partners, a bar strategically placed right in the middle of a two-block radius of student housing apartments, hosted underage night on every other Monday—a night when students under twenty-one were admitted into the bar to sing karaoke and play pool. We all had to wear bright orange wristbands to indicate our legal status, and the place was always crawling with police. My friends and I didn’t care. We weren’t there to try to drink beer, only to sing and hang with friends. If there was one bar activity I was good at, it was karaoke! It must have been all the summers at the boat tours.
My thoughts slowed down for a second. Yes…I was a singing tour guide for the Lower Dells Boat Tours.
All of a sudden it was like my brain’s filing cabinets were slowly opening and someone was filling them up with memories of working at DBT.
“Jack…” I said under my breath. My eyes stared at the wall above Kasie’s head as I searched for more memories.
“What?” Kasie asked through a mouthful of sandwich.
“Oh nothing. Nevermind.”
Curious. Very curious.
Chapter Four
“Well, Miss Gardner.” My academic advisor, Mr. Weigel, tapped a pen on his desk calendar as he read his computer screen. “Last semester was, shall we say, less than stellar?”
My grades? What were they?
“Oh
really?” I replied. I tried to remember how last semester checked out, but my mind was blank.
Mr. Weigel removed his reading glasses from his nose and pointed them in the air at me. “If you’re serious about entering the teaching profession, young lady, you’ll have to change your priorities, your study habits, your efforts, and mostly your attitude.”
Oops. I came off as sassy when in reality I just couldn’t remember.
“I understand, sir. I’ll change.”
Bad grades? How could I have...but my mind shifted gears as I began to recall my crappy freshman year.
“You’d better change,” Mr. Weigel said. “It’ll be almost impossible to apply to the School of Education at the end of this year if you don’t turn things around here.”
My advisor’s tone threatened tears deep behind my eyes, but I took a deep breath and pushed away the feeling. No school of Ed? This was all Aaron’s fault. No, I allowed him to distract me. I made this happen; I had to get myself out of this mess.
“Is there anything I can do?”
Mr. Weigel put his glasses back on and glanced at the computer screen. “You’re in luck. Thursday is the deadline to add courses for the semester. If you’re really serious about your education, I would retake the history course you failed last spring, and I might even take the psych class over as well. There are a few seats open in the online version of the course.”
I exhaled loudly. Adding more credits to my already tough semester seemed impossible. The tears threatened an appearance again.
Mr. Weigel sensed my uneasiness and his voice softened. “It won’t be easy, but I’ll tell you this—if you work hard and get acceptable grades this semester, the School of Education Committee will be impressed with your improvements. This could really help you.”
I nodded, visualizing how any second of spare time I had this semester would be spent reading, writing papers, and studying.
“Thank you, sir,” I said politely.
He handed me the paperwork I’d need to sign up for the extra credits. I grabbed my backpack and left his office, wondering what my grades were last semester. No matter, I was determined to dedicate myself to my studies this semester. There was no way I was accepting defeat.