Confessions of an Estranged College Freshman

by Kitty Parker

  Tilting my head and squinting, I finally realized who I'd kicked.

  It was Kevin, the delivery guy.

  He was going to get a very, very big tip the next time I ordered Thai.

  * * *

  "I can see why you don't like haunted houses," Elena commented as we rejoined the party ten minutes (and many apologies) later. "They don't exactly seem to agree with you."

  Elizabeth chuckled. "More like she doesn't agree with them."

  "You guys know what time it is?" I asked, suppressing a yawn.

  Mischa consulted his watch. "A little bit past one in the morning."

  I rested my head against his chest. "I'm tired."

  "Me too," Elizabeth agreed.

  "We'll go find the boys, then, and see if they're ready to head home," Elena suggested, indicating herself and Mischa. "You two go sit down for a bit."

  Liking this idea, I headed for a large couch that I knew to be in the back of the room, pulling Elizabeth along with me.

  "I really don't want to walk all the way home," she groaned, finally taking the paper bag off of her head.

  I nodded. "Word. Not like we have much of a choice, though. Now where the heck is that couch?"

  Elizabeth stopped dead in her tracks. "Um… it's right there. But it's kind of, er… occupied."

  I followed her gaze and felt a wave of shock course through my body.

  There on the plush blue cushions was Tully…

  … making out…

  … with Dorianne.

  Oh. Dear. God.

  hapter 13: The Flying Fish are Always Biting at Lynah

  Tully and Dorianne were official by the next week. I had really been hoping it was just a drunken mistake, but no luck there. Well, they hadbeen drunk, but apparently Dorianne had felt the need to actually call Tully the next day. Bitch.

  I was perfectly aware that I had no say in whom Tully dated, and I didn't try to tell him what to do. But that didn't mean I wasn't majorly annoyed at his poor taste, and it definitely hadn't prevented me from speaking my mind on the matter as soon as I had the chance. That conversation had gone something like this:

  Me: You're dating Dorianne.

  Tully: Yup.

  Me: Any reason?

  Tully: Just happened.

  Me: I assume you realize that I strongly disapprove?

  Tully: Yup.

  Me: Alright, then.

  With that, I had left the room. There really hadn't been anything more to say on the matter at that point.

  I hadn't really been seeing that much of Tully anyway. The first game of the regular hockey season (i.e. games that actually counted) was on November seventh, so practices and team stuff had pretty much eaten his life. It was just as well, since I was kind of pissed at him.

  I mean, Dorianne? What the fuck?

  That Thursday evening, my stress level was higher than usual due to a lab report I had to write for the next day. I slaved away at it until ten, when I finally hit print with an enormous sigh of relief.

  The happy feeling didn't last long.

  "Argh!" I screeched as a light on my printer flashed at me, indicating that I was out of paper. I fished around in my desk drawers for more sheets to feed to the hungry electronic beast, but I came up empty handed.

  Since Elena was still in the studio working on a project, I stomped down the hallway to borrow some paper from Elizabeth. When I knocked, it was Dorianne who answered the door.

  "Yes?" she drawled.

  I did my best to keep my cool. I was way too stressed out to deal with her.

  "Elizabeth there?"

  She didn't answer, just moved to the side to let me enter. I fought the urge to "accidentally" step on her foot as I passed.

  "Hey, Evie," Elizabeth greeted me, looking up from the problem set she'd been working on. "What's up?"

  "Can I borrow some computer paper?" I asked. "I just ran out and I have a lab report due tomorrow."

  Dorianne snorted. "Tully finished zat report on Tuesday. Zat is why 'e could not 'elp me study for my test."

  Elizabeth and I simultaneously rolled our eyes. Like we actually cared about the details of their relationship.

  "Tully finished on Tuesday because he had practice yesterday and had to leave for New Jersey today for the game against Princeton," I informed her.

  She wrinkled her little upturned nose. "Ugh, 'ockey. Zat vile, violent sport."

  Elizabeth raised an eyebrow at her. "You don't like hockey?"

  Dorianne gave her roommate an 'are you kidding me' look. "A group of big, sweaty men sliding around ze ice and slamming each ozzer into ze glass? Certainly not."

  I bristled, offended on Tully's behalf. "Well you'd better learn to like it. Hockey is pretty much Tully'slife."

  "I know," she groaned. "It is 'orrible. 'E is practicing all ze time and leaving 'is girlfriend alone on ze weekends for 'is games."

  "C'est la vie," I told her in an incredibly unsympathetic tone, my work-related stress starting to leak out. "Maybe you should just learn not to be a needy bitch."

  Elizabeth snorted.

  Hugely offended by my callous tone, Dorianne marched out of the room, stopping at the door to glare at me and huff, "Zere is no need to berrrude, salope!"

  I brought my hand to my heart. "Oh, you wound me!"

  With a loud harrumph, she left and slammed the door behind her.

  "Nice," Elizabeth commented.

  I had more pressing matters on my mind. "How the fuck can Tully date that bitch?"

  "Maybe she's nice to him?" she suggested.

  "Yeah, 'cause she wants to get into his pants."

  She shrugged. "Boys are stupid."

  I snorted. "Yeah, no shit. Tully lives, eats, drinks, and breathes hockey, and he's dating a girl who hates it. Dumbass. I mean, come on. What kind of logic is that? When we were kids, I went to all of his games and cheered louder than anyone there. She probably wouldn't even know what a puck was if it hit her in the mouth and knocked out all her teeth."

  Elizabeth cocked her head to the side and gave me a long look before grinning slyly. "Are you jealous?"

  "What? No!" I shouted. "I'm pissed at him for being so stupid and dating freaking Godzilla!"

  She burst into laughter. "I just had this really funny image of a giant Dorianne going on a rampage and squashing Tokyo with her designer heels."

  There was a knock on the door. Elizabeth was still doubled over, so I went to answer it. I definitely wasn't expecting to see Amory there.

  "Hey, Evie," he greeted me. "I was just looking for you. Can I borrow your econ book?"

  "Yeah, sure," I replied.

  He caught sight of Elizabeth. "What's wrong with her?"

  She immediately stopped laughing and stood up, glaring at him. "Is there something wrong with laughing?"

  "Whoa." Amory seemed almost caught off-guard by Elizabeth's sudden mood swing. "No need to unleash your PMS on me, Ms. Dalton."

  "I'm not PMSing, Mr. Atherton."

  "Then why the attitude?"

  She put a finger to her chin thoughtfully. "Oh gee, I don't know. Maybe because you're within a ten foot radius of me?"

  Amory narrowed his eyes at her. "You need to calm down. I just came to borrow a book from Evie, if you don't mind."

  "What if I do mind?"

  "Well it's not really your business, is it?"

  "It's in my room. Therefore it is my business."

  I sat down on the edge of Elizabeth's bed, enjoying the show.

  Amory gave her a smug look. "Oh, I'm invading your space, am I?"

  "No, I just love it when random jerks hang around in my room," she replied sarcastically.

  He walked toward her slowly, backing her into a wall and hovering over her, a dangerous grin on his face. "Am I invading your space now?"

  I was practically bursting with excitement. Oh, snap! Sexual tension!

  My two friends stood like that, just staring at each other, for a solid twenty seconds before Elizabeth came ba
ck from La-La Land and shoved Amory hard in the chest, forcing him away from her.

  "Just get out of my room."

  "Fine," he acceded. "Evie…"

  "It's on the right side of my desk," I informed him, knowing what he was going to ask.

  "Thanks."

  With one last glare at Elizabeth, he left the room.

  I turned to my friend with a knowing grin.

  She scowled at me. "Don't even go there."

  * * *

  I was actually kind of nervous when Mischa came to pick me up on the evening of November fifteenth. Though we'd been together for nearly a month, we'd both been so busy that neither of us had had time to go on an official date. Having dinner on the Ithaca Commons downtown before going to the hockey game against Colgate (Amory had graciously surrendered his ticket) was going to be our first.

  "Privyet, printsessa," he greeted me when we met up in front of the Straight, giving me a chaste kiss on the lips.

  "Hey," I replied, practically melting. I loved it when he spoke to me in Russian. He knew it, too.

  Mischa took my hand in his and we walked over to the bus stop in front of Annabel Taylor Hall.

  "So where are we going?" I asked him.

  "Moosewood," he replied. "I know you are a vegetarian, and that is their specialty."

  My face broke into what had to be the cheesiest smile ever. "Thank you! That's so thoughtful." I stood up on my tip-toes to give him a peck on the cheek.

  The number ten bus soon pulled up and we boarded, swiping our Cornell IDs to get on. Mischa followed me to a random pair of seats about halfway back and we sat down, jerking as the vehicle suddenly lurched forward.

  The two of us sat in a comfortable silence, content to lean against each other and watch the scenery go by as we drove through Collegetown and down East Hill toward the Commons. When we arrived at the restaurant, Mischa went into gentleman mode and held the door open for me.

  My heart fluttered a little. I was all for gender equality, but I was a total sucker for little chivalrous gestures.

  "Good evening," the hostess greeted us.

  "Hello," Mischa replied. "We have a reservation for two. It should be under Ivanov."

  The hostess, who appeared to be in her mid-teens, blushed the moment she heard Mischa's accent. I didn't blame her one bit. It was completely alluring.

  After checking the large book in front of her, she picked up two menus and motioned for us to come with her. "Right this way, please."

  We followed her to the small table where she had set our menus down. Mischa gallantly pulled out my chair for me, causing the hostess to blush yet again.

  "Your server will be with you in a moment," she informed us before returning to her post, still red as a tomato.

  I grinned at Mischa. "You were making her blush."

  He seemed confused. "I was?"

  "Wow, you didn't even notice. Yeah, I think she was into your accent."

  His blue eyes twinkled. "Perhaps, but she does not matter. What matters is if you are into my accent."

  "It's the only reason I'm here," I teased.

  He chuckled. "What a sad day it is when a man realizes that his girlfriend only likes him for his accent."

  "I'll bet," I agreed. "But can I tell you a secret?"

  He leaned closer to me.

  "I'm just pretending I only like your accent," I whispered. "I really like all of you."

  "Chorosho. I really like all of you as well."

  We broke apart as our waiter politely cleared his throat before introducing himself. He took our drink orders before ambling off, leaving us to peruse our menus.

  In typical Evie and Mischa fashion, neither of us had made up our minds when he got back. He seemed almost amused at our indecision and decided to give us another five minutes.

  We resorted to flipping a coin.

  Mischa gave me a quarter and I held it in my fingers. "Heads, I get the spinach lasagna and you get the Moroccan stew, tails, I get the Agean strudel and you get the fish."

  I flicked the coin into the air. It landed on the table with a clatter.

  Heads.

  I nodded with finality. "Lasagna and stew it is!"

  After we proudly announced to the waiter that we had made our decision (it was a big accomplishment for people as indecisive as us), Mischa stuck his quarter back in the change pocket of his wallet. This piqued my curiosity.

  "What does Russian currency look like?" I asked.

  Smiling, he pulled out a one hundred ruble note and handed it to me. I gazed at the little pinkish piece of paper, tracing the image of a statue on the front of a building - a rider in a chariot drawn by four horses.

  Mischa pointed to the Cyrillic writing in the upper left-hand corner. "This says 'bill of the Bank of Russia.'"

  "Where's the statue?"

  "It is on the Bolshoi Theater in Moscow." He flipped the bill over in my hands and pointed to the picture of a large building with Corinthian columns on the back. "And there it is. That little word, Moskva, is what we call Moscow."

  I gave him back the bill. "Cool."

  "Do you want to know what your name is in Russian? It is very beautiful."

  "Sure," I agreed, cupping my chin in my hands.

  "Evangelina," he told me, scribbling something down on a napkin, which he then pushed across the table to me.

  Евангелина, it read.

  I ran my index finger over the strange characters, admiring their curves and lines. "Your alphabet is so elegant."

  He chuckled. "I am sure that whoever invented it thanks you."

  After twenty or so minutes of pleasant conversation, our food arrived. Enjoying our meals, we swapped tastes every now and then, which made me feel very couple-ish. I made sure to keep an eye on the time so that we wouldn't be late for the game. Thinking of hockey reminded me of how irritated I was at Tully and I frowned.

  "Is something wrong, printsessa?" Mischa inquired, his blue eyes filled with concern.

  I shrugged. "Nah, just annoyed about something. Not you, of course," I added when he began to look worried.

  He studied me for a moment. "It is this girl that Tully is dating, yes?"

  "Yeah," I replied. "She's kind of a bitch."

  He raised an eyebrow. "She must be if you say that. I have never seen you dislike a person so much. If she is that bad, I am sure Tully will realize it."

  I gave him a skeptical look. "Mischa, you're a guy. You know how guys work. Dorianne is a bitch, but she's a pretty bitch."

  "I see you do not think much of our judgment. But I am dating you, remember?"

  "Is that a compliment?" I asked, slightly confused.

  He chuckled. "Yes, printsessa."

  I smiled. "Okay, good. I was a little worried there for a second."

  "Yes, because I am the type of man who would insult his girlfriend to her face," he replied sarcastically.

  "Hey, you never know. All that Russian and stuff…"

  "Ti takaya prelestnaya."

  "My point exactly."

  * * *

  "One hundred point eight," I read aloud as I looked at the thermometer I had just taken from Elena's mouth.

  She groaned. "This sucks. I really wanted to go to the Harvard game."

  "I know. Would it help if I took pictures for you?" I asked her.

  "A bit," she replied.

  I pulled the covers up further around my sick roommate. "I will, then."

  The door opened slowly. "I got the soup," Tully announced, entering the room after his short trip to Nasties. "She have a temp?"

  "Yup," I replied as he brought the little cup of steaming broth over to Elena's bedside table.

  "Thanks, Tully," she croaked.

  He gave her a sympathetic smile. "No problem. Evie, can I talk to you outside for a second?"

  "Yeah, sure. Try to get some rest, okay sweetie?" I added to Elena.

  She murmured her assent as I followed Tully out into the hallway.

  "What's
up?" I asked as I gently shut the door to my room.

  He shuffled his feet. "Can you do me a favor?"

  I raised an eyebrow. "Depends on what it is."

  "Since Elena's sick, you guys have an extra ticket to the game, right?"

  "Yeah..." I answered slowly, not quite sure where he was going with this.

  "Well," he began. "Could you maybe... give it to Dorianne?"

  I blinked. "Please tell me you did not just ask me that."

  He gave me a sheepish smile.

  "No. Fucking. Way."

  "Why not?" he whined, pouting at me.

  I glared at him. "Do I seriously need to spell it out for you? I don't want her there with me."

  "But it's the Harvard game!" he insisted. "It's the most important game of the year! She's my girlfriend; she should be there."

  "It's too bad it's sold out, then, isn't it?"

  "But you have an extra ticket."

  "So what?"

  "So you should let her have it."

  "Nope."

  Out came the puppy eyes. "Please?"

  I gave him a look.

  "Pretty please? With sugar on top?"

  I held out for another minute before finally caving.

  "Fine," I sighed. "You owe me one, though."

  "Thank you!" he exclaimed, wrapping me in a hug.

  I grunted.

  Looks like I have a date with Dorianne tonight.

  * * *

  "Good evening, hockey fans!"

  The Lynah Faithful cheered in response to the announcer.

  "Tonight's game is a matchup of the Crimson of Harvard -"

  We booed loudly.

  "- and your Cornell Big Red!"

  We switched back to cheering.

  "Yeah, Red!" Amory shouted, cupping his hands around his mouth. He and I were doing our best to ignore the brunette to our left, who seemed completely uninterested in her surroundings.

  As the announcer began to read off Harvard's lineup, I handed Amory a piece of newspaper and we both started chanting.

  "Booooooring! Booooooring!"

  Dorianne snorted. "How juvenile."

  As Amory and I crumpled up our papers, I saw a guy in our row slip a fish out of his pants leg (he had evidently smuggled it in) and toss it onto the ice. He was joined by at least ten others in the student section. I had been told that this was a tradition when Harvard came to town, and I chuckled.