Escapism (The Escapism Series)

by Maria Dee

  Marla cut me off. She tugged at our interlaced arms as we hurried toward Vari hall.

  “We can’t be late for this class. I heard from some guy that this prof will go all Socratic on our butts, and I don’t feel like being picked on, especially in a big lecture hall.”

  “Not one of those profs. Let’s sit in the back,” I said, thinking I had resolved our dilemma.

  “He usually targets the ones in the back and along the aisles. We’re better off sitting near the front,” she suggested.

  The lecture hall was already packed by the time we arrived. We were stuck with front row seats—the worst seats ever in my opinion, especially if you unexpectedly nodded off. I impressively tuned out most of the lecture as I replayed Nicholas asking me out. I couldn’t even whisper to Marla because the professor stood within a few feet from us at times as he paced from one side to the other. I didn’t want to make a spectacle of myself on our first day for being disruptive. My stomach grumbled angrily, reminding me to attain sustenance; I pulled out a homemade sandwich and scarfed it down without hesitation.

  I could barely recall a single thing presented as I tuned everyone out while my mind raced with thoughts. I came to the conclusion that I wasn’t seeing all that I should, and at times, I felt as though I was seeing far too much that was unexplainable.

  When the lecture hall cleared, I VT’d Calliope. “Can you pick us up?”

  She responded almost immediately. “Sure. I just finished working out. Meet me by Tait’s parking lot,” she said, casually. Calliope’s new home was the Tait McKenzie fitness facility.

  Marla and I walked and talked on our way over; there was definitely something about the air that smelled of college life—it was revitalizing.

  “Let’s check the line at the parking building,” I said.

  Marla replied, “Right! I almost forgot.”

  As we passed the building, the hours posted on the glass door read between eight and four. It was only one o’clock and the line was ridiculously long.

  “Let’s get here at eight tomorrow morning. I hate waiting in lines,” Marla said.

  “I hate waking up early and waiting in lines,” I snapped.

  “Fine. I’ll register us for parking passes and then Cal can pick you up, you lazy bum,” she teased.

  “I’m glad that’s settled,” I beamed, victoriously.

  When we reached the lot, Calliope was by her car playing with her phone. She was likely organizing all her new contacts which were primarily the guys she’d picked up in the gym.

  “Ladies,” Calliope greeted. “Anything spectacular happen today?”

  “Not on my end,” Marla replied, winking at me.

  I was tired and not in any mood to explain myself. “Pretty uneventful, thanks for asking.”

  I shook my head at a surprised Marla; her lower lip quivered as if holding back information about my personal affairs was a difficult task.

  After ten minutes of loud music blaring in the car on our way home, Marla turned down the volume, unable to contain herself any longer.

  “Nicholas asked Xenia out,” she cried, covering her mouth in disbelief. With her head held low, she whispered, “Sorry, Z.”

  My jaw dropped in disbelief. “You snitch!”

  “What? She was going to find out sooner or later.”

  I sneered at her and she avoided eye contact, shamefully.

  “Oh, I get it. You thought I’d be pissed because a guy asked you out over me, right?” Calliope hissed.

  “Well, yes. Aren’t you?” I asked, amused.

  “Pissed? I’m happy for you, you idiot,” she said, dubiously.

  “See!” Marla intervened, “No harm, no foul.”

  I sighed, shaking my head. I reached from the back seat to turn up the volume once more.

  “Cal, can I get a ride with you tomorrow?” she muttered.

  “Sure, Marla,” she responded, grinning.

  I snickered in the backseat, knowing it was definitely going to be an early class. Calliope caught on, hissing, “It better not be early though.”

  “Come on, Cal. How early is too early?” she wailed.

  I sat silently in the backseat, separating myself from the pending argument as we pulled up in front of my house. I was the first to leave as they collaborated about their schedules for the next day.

  I bid farewell before hopping out of Calliope’s convertible with my book bag in hand. “Later, guys.”

  As I walked up the pebble path, I realized just how tired I was. Calliope shouted, “Ciao, Xeni!” before she gunned her ostentatious convertible down the street.

  My mother wasn’t home judging by the looks of it—no car out front and quietness all around. Just as I suspected, the house was empty and peaceful, exactly the way I liked it. I grabbed a bowl of cereal and turned on the television, browsing aimlessly from channel to channel, unimpressed by daytime television. The combination of food and television brought on a state of drowsiness. I nuzzled between a pillow and blanket, and quickly fell asleep. Upon awakening, I felt unrested as I rolled off the sofa bouncing forward in a bumpy motion. In a semi-sleepy state, I washed my face with cool water in an attempt to awaken every cell in my body. I looked up at the clock and was surprised as my intended siesta turned into a fifteen-hour slumber. It was strange having not realized how tired I really was.

  Every cell in my body twitched in need of caffeine. Thankfully, the automatic pre-set did its thing. I could smell a pot brewing in the kitchen. The first sips were the most invigorating, heightening all of my senses in preparation for the day ahead. After I finished my coffee, I dragged my heavy feet up to my room and prepared for the day.

  Not sure of what to do with myself, I deliberated on my comfy bed where most of my usual brainstorming occurred. I decided to go for a jog, having extra time before class. After I put on a sweater and track pants, I removed my Cyclopod from its charger and activated the wireless earphones for my running pleasure.

  The air was crisp and dewy during my thirty-minute jog. My mind cleared as each minute passed; before I knew it, I bounced up the stairs to my front door full of energy and in need of a hot shower—my body yearned for it.

  The steam escaped into my room, slowly evaporating as I came out of the shower wrapped in a large white towel. I was surprised to find Calliope already parked in my driveway wearing big black sunglasses and resting on the passenger side door. I quickly dressed and dried my hair, taking a minimalist approach with wardrobe and makeup application.

  I grabbed my bag and hurried down the stairwell, making a quick stop in the kitchen before rushing straight out the door. My mother, who conveniently loved to make breakfast, was at work. I quickly toasted waffles to go—super convenient breakfast food.

  “Morning, Cal,” I greeted as I tossed my book bag in the back seat.

  “Morning. What time do you have class?”

  “Nine. You?”

  “I might go to the gym instead.”

  “Cal, you can’t! This is your opportunity to start fresh. This isn’t high school anymore.”

  “You’re right. It’s better than high school because the notes are all posted online, so really, I’m not missing anything besides the random anecdote.”

  Calliope’s driving was usually impeccable but today was a different story—she was all over the place, breaking abruptly and speeding at every opportunity.

  “Cal, if you kill us, it won’t matter if we’re late.”

  Calliope laughed and playfully slapped my arm. “Relax already. You should be used to my driving.”

  “I’m assuming Marla took the bus today?” I knew how difficult of a task it was to get Calliope up and running.

  “I don’t do eight o’clock. Change of topic. When do you get to see this Nicholas of yours next?”

  The car swerved a little.

  “I may never see him again if you keep driving like a lunatic. Keep your eyes on the road.”

  I couldn’t quite figure out how to d
escribe how I felt about Nicholas. After all, he had left an eerie first impression that was hard to shake.

  “He’s gorgeous,” I sighed, continuing, “I bet you of all people remember seeing him at Landon’s party.”

  “No, I can’t say that I do,” she replied, indifferently.

  “He’s pretty tall, has longish brown hair and grey eyes. How could you forget?”

  “Dude, I was totally tripping that night. He does sound good though—I’m impressed. I was starting to think you weren’t into guys.”

  I shoved Calliope as she pulled into her parking spot. “So, he’s gorgeous, right? I’m dying for deets.” Calliope’s eyes sparkled as she edged her sunglasses down the bridge of her nose.

  “Listen, I have to run. Call you after class. You should go to class today and at least start off the week with some attendance.”

  She put her sunglasses on her head and rolled her eyes at me. Calliope was the type of person who was naturally gifted both intellectually and physically. She had shiny black locks, sparkling green eyes, and a slender frame. Most guys never stood a chance once they laid eyes on her; she was a total player, and according to her, with not many contenders. I’ve never seen a guy hold her interest for much longer than a day, let alone a week.

  I walked through the congested parking lot toward the glass doors by the student center. The wind whipped against my skin as I rushed to reach the doors. I placed my hand against my neck as my scarf danced with the wind in a soft spiral embrace, loosening around my neck ever so slightly. A few students lounged on the concrete blocks, conversing amongst themselves. There was a smoking section by the student center where I purchased a pack of gum. The smell of smoke lingered in my hair until a gust of wind drew the scent back out upon the pull of the second glass door leading into Vari Hall.

  I walked through the maze of the building to Curtis Lecture hall. I climbed two levels of stairs and entered through the middle lecture hall doors. There were only a few vacant spaces this time. I quickly sat down and pulled out my laptop to follow along with the course notes.

  York U’s wireless server verified my authenticity and I began to check my e-mail. The professor began lecturing on globalization and outsourcing, which sounded all familiar most likely because it was an introductory day and high school econ was not entirely wiped from my memory.

  Leaning back in my seat, I took off my leather jacket while reaching for my neck, realizing that my favorite scarf was missing. I looked on the ground, but there was no scarf to be found.

  I asked the girl beside me to guard my belongings as I left hurriedly down the stairs from Curtis hall hoping to find my scarf. As I walked toward Vari Hall, I remembered when my mother first presented me with the scarf on my nineteenth birthday. I shivered as I pushed against the heavy glass doors and the wind cut into me once again. As the fallen leaves rustled, stirring up the aroma of autumn, I inhaled deeply and searched hopelessly all around.

  I moved toward the central pond, praying for it to be anywhere else but there. To my relief and dismay, it was not in the pond—it was still lost. The campus was desolate; only a few students acknowledged my presence.

  I continued to walk through the grass and leaves with my arms wrapped around me for warmth. A violent gush of wind struck again, causing my eyes to shut in an attempt to prevent debris from entry. From the corner of my eye, I saw my scarf entangled in a tree branch. I rushed over to save it, but another gust of wind struck and it took flight with the wind once more. A few students passed by and one thankfully grabbed a hold of it.

  “I take it this is yours?” The edges of his lips twitched into a smile.

  I reached for my beloved scarf. “Thank you so much. Losing that scarf would have ruined my year,” I smiled at the tall, lean guy in front of me. “I’m Xenia Sanders.”

  “Kiran Aldridge,” he said with a grin. “You must run on warm.”

  “Huh?” I uttered, confused.

  He leaned in. “No jacket today?”

  “I kind of panicked and left my stuff behind in class,” I said, smiling vaguely while holding up the scarf. “It was a gift.”

  Kiran offered his jacket, placing it over my shoulders.

  “Oh, no it’s okay, really,” I said.

  “You’re shivering, please,” he insisted.

  As soon as his jacket covered me, I smelled the cool cologne that resided in the warm fabric. Kiran was without a doubt easy on the eyes, with his messy black hair, perfect nose, chiseled jaw and electrifying light green eyes. When he smiled, his right cheek dimpled, as if he needed more in the cuteness department. He had two piercings, his right eyebrow and his tongue. Calliope would be all over that had he fallen under her radar.

  He covered his head with the hood of his blue sweater and placed his hands into his pockets as we walked back together toward Vari Hall.

  “So what are you majoring in, Kiran?”

  He tossed his head back before he looked at me with a sideways glare that sent sparks. He was too beautiful—it was upsetting to say the least.

  “My major is undecided for now,” he dodged, carrying on, “What about yourself?”

  “Somehow I ended up in business and econ, but I’m still not sure how I decided on that,” I replied, biting my lower lip as I mulled it over again.

  “But it’s not written in stone. I’m still keeping my options open,” I quickly added.

  “Options are always good.” Kiran’s lips curved into a smile and the air between us no longer felt unfamiliar.

  “May I ask you something?” he whispered.

  “Um…okay,” I mumbled. My neatly combed hair was now a tangled mess. My head felt light and the air around me caused my body to convulse in successive shivers.

  “Do you think you are living up to your potential?”

  “Probably not,” I replied quickly.

  “Good answer,” he said.

  “What about you?”

  “I know my potential—quite well,” he admitted.

  “Someone’s confident.” I grinned.

  He simply raised his eyebrows smugly as we drew near to the eerily silent lecture hall.

  “Thanks for walking me back,” I said, while he rested against the door.

  “Oh, your jacket…uh, here,” I handed his jacket over.

  “Anytime.”

  “Nice meeting you, Kiran,” I said, re-entering the empty lecture hall.

  I had my scarf back so I was content. My laptop and bag were still in the same spot fortunately. I put my laptop back into its fancy hard case and into my book bag with my wallet still inside and untouched after a quick inspection. I wrapped my scarf around my neck and tied it together securely before I put my jacket on—Kiran would be proud, I thought to myself giggling.

  I decided to look for Calliope—who was likely hunting for guys in the gym or student center—and hang out.

  As I took the winding stairs down toward Vari Hall, something unusual unfolded. While I made my way through the crowded and chaotic hallway, observing people passing me, I realized it was time. My heart raced at an unusual pace, pounding against my chest. Everybody before me moved faster until I set my eyes on one person who walked toward my direction. He was the only one who slowed the quickening time. Eerily, he looked straight at me with his lips in a hard line. He furrowed his brow and shook his head as though my presence annoyed him. I hoped it was all in my imagination.

  I observed his hard face once again as he continued to look intently at me. A strand of dirty-blond hair covered his right eye, liberated by his short ponytail, as he walked past me. Feeling a light draft, a shiver emanated throughout my body. He exited through the central glass doors toward the commons. All he carried was a beat-up leather-bound book in his left hand. Swiftly, I was overcome by an urge to follow him, and I did just that. Exiting through the same doors, I attempted to blend in with the crowd while peering over shoulders and in between heads for a better look. My attempt to remain inconspicuous failed miserably.r />
  “Xenia! Hey Xenia! Come and sit with us,” Calliope hollered from the pond, which was located in the center of the commons, and opposite to where the eerie guy was skulking with Kiran.

  He glanced over while in the middle of what appeared to be a heated conversation with Kiran, whom quickly diverted his eyes from my direction as though we’d never met. Absolutely mortified, I avoided looking in his direction, and walked toward Calliope instead.

  “I tried calling you. I thought you were having lunch with us,” Calliope stated.

  “Sorry. My phone loses connection when I pass through Curtis Hall,” I lied. However, there was some truth to my embellishment having heard other students complaining earlier about dropped calls and poor reception.

  “Hey, did you notice those two guys sitting across the pond?” I asked. Calliope and Marla shrugged their shoulders.

  “That guy just gave me this weird vibe and the other guy he’s with is Kiran. I actually met him earlier out here.”

  “Oh. So you skipped class then?” Calliope beamed as though she had won an undeclared bet.

  “No. Not intentionally. I lost my scarf and he helped me retrieve it,” I said defensively, while Calliope shrugged her shoulders unconvinced.

  My skin crawled after a mere glance in his direction. I could sense his revulsion of my very presence, as if I had imposed on his turf.

  “He’s probably just a stuck up trust fund baby, who cares,” Calliope hissed, running her fingers through her straight black hair.

  “Cal is right, sort of. People give dirty looks all the time,” Marla said with a sympathetic head tilt and pat on the shoulder.

  “Okay, who wants to grab some juice? I need a boost,” Marla squeaked.

  “You guys go ahead. I’m taking off,” I huffed.

  “Do you want a ride home?” Calliope kindly offered.

  “No, I’m okay. Just a little worn out.”

  “Call us if you need anything,” Marla hugged me tightly.

  “What would I do without you two?” I gasped as Marla released me from her embrace. Calliope tossed her car keys and I reached to catch them midair.

  “Thanks, Cal.” I was grateful to have such caring friends.

  “Oh, I forgot to mention, I dropped off our parking pass apps. It shouldn’t take too long now,” Marla illuminated.