UI 101

by M. K. Claeys

  “Good!” chimed in Dad. “Then I won’t have to worry about any boys!”

  “Dad!” I shrieked, fastening my seat belt with a huff. “Any boy I would even consider dating would like me even if I gained the freshman five hundred!”

  “That’s my girl.” He leaned in to kiss my forehead before he shut the door.

  “Bye!” I called. “I’ll miss you!”

  But I sure as hell won’t miss Evansdale.

  I finished backing out of the driveway and pressed the gas, pushing my sunglasses down with one hand as I cranked up the stereo with the other. It was perfect—my shuffle had selected Kelly Clarkson’s “Breakaway.” Life couldn’t be better. Less than twenty-four hours from now I would be starting my new life in a new city—a city! Not a town!—where no one knew that in the third grade I’d fallen face first into a mud puddle and had to wear the itchy, bright red sweats from the nurse’s office for an entire day. In less than one more rising and setting of the sun, I would be in an entirely new time zone where people watered their lawns and rose gardens and not their crabgrass and cacti beds. In less than one day, I would be starting my life in a completely new place where no one even knew my name.

  I groaned. My name. My name was horrible, old-fashioned, stupid, and from my mom’s hippie lifestyle before she got married. Auraelia Staar Formosus. That was something else I could leave behind. I had heard of people going by their middle names once they went to college, but God knew my middle name was even worse and even more hippie-sounding than my first.

  So what was I supposed to do? Just pick a brand-new name and start from scratch? How would I even remember to answer to it when someone called it out? This was something I couldn’t take lightly. I couldn’t just have everyone start calling me Auraelia after three months because I decided the new name I’d picked out for myself was worse than the one my parents had given me at birth.

  * * *

  It was nearly 2:00 a.m. I had been driving for over five hours, and nothing was coming to me. I decided to pull off the highway into a twenty-four-hour Waffle House. My last meal had been over eight hours ago, and I was starving. The cookies and Red Bull just weren’t going to cut it, and the sugar was kind of wearing my empty stomach a little thin.

  I parked my car, locked the doors, and walked into the restaurant. Despite the fact it was now two-thirty in the morning, this Waffle House in the middle of Kansas was a pretty happening place. I sat myself down in the half of the restaurant that was open and checked the menu.

  “You waitin’ on anyone, darlin’?”

  Ah yes, the classic “professionally disgruntled” graveyard-shift waitress. Molly, according to her nametag, seemed to be having a rough night.

  “No, just me tonight.”

  She gave me a worried eye. “All by your lonesome? Not to be motherin’ ya, darlin’, but shouldn’cha be inside somewhere nice and safe?”

  I smiled. Molly was a nice woman. “Probably. I’m on my way to college out east, and I’ve got a long way to drive, so I left early.”

  “Well, that’s right wonderful for ya, darlin’! Where ya from and where ya off to school?”

  “I’m from Evansdale, New Mexico, and I’m going to school at the University of Illington.”

  “Well, now, ain’t that nice. What can I get ya tonight, love? Maybe some coffee for the road?”

  I shook my head. “No, thanks. I just drank about two cans of Red Bull, so I think I’m set as far as caffeine goes. Could I have some pineapple juice, though, please? If you have it.”

  “Sure, hun.” Molly gave me a tired smile. “I’ll be right back with that. You just sit and relax.”

  I glanced back down to my menu, wishing I had a cigarette or something to keep myself busy while Molly checked on her other tables. I didn’t usually smoke, other than when I was drinking, but it seemed a person who frequented a Waffle House at 3:00 a.m. should probably come armed with a whole carton of nicotine.

  “Here you go, love.” Molly finally came back. “Fresh pineapple juice for ya. Did ya find anything on the menu?”

  Since it was so early, I was feeling more like breakfast than anything else, so I ordered their signature combo with grits, and surprisingly, it didn’t take long for my food to come out from the kitchen. And, even more surprisingly, it was actually pretty good. My pineapple juice was still a third full when Molly brought me out another one.

  “How’s everything going for ya, darlin’?” she asked as she cleared away the previous glass after I’d emptied it.

  “Great!” I smiled. “Thanks, Molly, I really appreciate it.”

  She walked away toward another one of her tables. Unfortunately for her, it seemed to be one of those tables that, if I’d been waiting on them, I would have wanted to kill the occupants. They were loud, obnoxious, kept calling her “waitress” when they needed something, and nothing appeared to satisfy them. Every shift had at least one table like them, and these guys seemed to be giving Molly more than her fair share of grief. In fact, I probably would have screamed at them. But Molly just shrugged it off and moved on to checking her next table.

  This woman is a saint. It’s watching people like her that make me think I can take a few more summers at the diner if it means I’ll never have to work in one again after I finish school.

  Molly dropped off my check, and I smiled at her. “Some people are just never satisfied, huh?” I said.

  “Oh, darlin’, you had better believe it. You all right, though?”

  “I’m fantastic, Molly. You were great.”

  “Thanks, love. I want ya to promise you’ll be careful out there tonight, all right?”

  “I will, Molly, I promise.”

  “Good. I’ll pick that bill up when yer ready, darlin’. Just take yer time.”

  Molly had dropped off the check. She hadn’t even charged me for my pineapple juice, making my tab less than eight dollars. I pulled out a twenty and set it on the table, finished my second glass of juice, and stood.

  “I left the money on the table for you, Molly,” I said as I passed her by the coffee station. “Thanks for caring about me so much tonight. Take care of yourself, all right?”

  “Sure, darlin’. You drive safe now.” She smiled at me again as the obnoxious table hailed her with another round of “Hey, waitress!”

  I made sure that Molly was heading over to pick up the money I’d left her before I stepped into the bathroom to splash some water on my face and use the toilet. As I was walking out, Molly was standing over by the register with the other waitress on duty, shaking her head with a wide grin on her face.

  “Sally, you remember that sweet young girl over at table fourteen, the cute little brunette all by herself?”

  “Yeah? What about her? She walk out on you?” Sally asked.

  “No, Sal. She went and left me a twenty on a bill of six dollars and thirty-five.”

  “Did she now?” Sally was beaming at my now empty table.

  “She sure did. A right ray of sunshine in my night that little lady was.”

  I smiled and slipped out of the front door and to my car. I was still smiling as I pulled on the acceleration ramp to get back on the highway. I, Auraelia Staar Formosus, had been a ray of sunshine in someone’s night.

  “Rae.”

  I whispered it to myself under the cover of the radio playing quietly in the background. My mom had called me Rae as a pet name. It had been so long ago I’d all but forgotten about it.

  “Rae.”

  I said it louder this time. I liked it. It was short, to the point, and exotic, almost.

  “Hi, I’m Rae. Rae Formosus. Do you want the top bunk or the bottom?”

  I nodded and turned up my radio. Rae Formosus wasn’t a person to be messed with. Rae wasn’t the kind of girl who let the star quarterback copy her Algebra II final just because she knew he would flunk and not be able to play in the rivalry game if she didn’t. And besides, Rae was mysterious. She was from out of state. Rae was everything Aur
aelia had wanted to be since grade school but couldn’t. I had always been known as “sweet Auraelia, who’s always nice to everybody.” Yeah, it had always been sweet little Auraelia.

  It wasn’t until my senior year that I had finally started standing up for myself. Well, I had called it standing up for myself. The school guidance counselor had called dumping orange soda and granola on Dave Baxter’s head “a latent expression of anger repressed from my mother’s death ten years before.” Um, no. It was an expression of my being pissed off because my boyfriend had just cheated on me with my best friend. News flash, shrinky-dink. Not everything has to be about unresolved childhood issues. Auraelia Formosus was the girl who would trade you the cookies in her lunchbox for your carrots if you bullied her just hard enough, whereas Rae Formosus was the kind of girl who would tell you where to go and buy your own damned cookies.

  I yawned. It was after five, but I had spent more time at Waffle House than I had intended. I smiled, recalling how I had made Molly’s night. It had been worth it, even though now the pancakes and grits were making me feel comatose. I watched the signs on the side of the highway. There was a rest stop in twenty miles where I could take a nap. I pulled underneath one of the lamps in the parking lot, knowing that any freaks would be less apt to approach me in a well-lit area. I rescued Pooka from where he had fallen into the foot space in front of the passenger seat and shoved him up against the window to use his snuggly self as a pillow. Grabbing my throw blanket from where I had laid it over the top of all my stuff in the back seat, I settled in for a few hours’ rest.

  Tomorrow would be here soon, but it wouldn’t hurt to be well rested when it arrived.

  2

  Kathryn

  Why wouldn’t it shut up? Seriously, it had to be the crack of dawn, and already my phone was ringing. Fumbling on my bedside table, I managed to grab my cell before it vibrated itself onto the carpet.

  “’Lo?” I mumbled.

  “Hi, Ryn, it’s Brian!”

  “I know it’s you. What’s up—besides me now?”

  “Not too much, babe. I was just calling to ask if you had reconsidered my offer yet.”

  “Thanks, but really, my mom wants to move me in. I think she’d be offended if I made her stay home.”

  “I know. That’s why I offered last night to come with the two of you. I can help you carry the heavy stuff and set up your room with you. I can stay the night if you want, too, if your roommate turns out to be a freak.”

  I laughed. “I’m sure she’ll be fine, whoever she is. Mom and I have everything under control, and my dad will be coming if he can get off work early, so really, you don’t need to help.”

  “You know, Ryn, I’m starting to think that you’re hiding something from me.”

  “What could I possibly have to hide? You came and visited me at my orientation weekend, even though it was against university policy. You know everything there is to know about everything, and then some.”

  “What is it about you going to college you don’t want me to be a part of?” Brian fretted. “I mean, if you’re nervous, you don’t have to go. You’re not committed or anything. I mean, seriously, you’ve been so weird lately; you’re completely overreacting about this whole thing. If it’s stressing you out so much, maybe you would be better off staying home and going to community college. We could get an apartment together or something if the only reason you’re going is so you don’t have to live with your parents anymore.”

  “Brian, really, it’s nothing like that!” I insisted as I threw my pillow over my face. “You know I’ve been eating, sleeping, and breathing going away to school since before we started dating almost two years ago! This is everything I ever wanted!”

  “I know, and I just want to be a part of it.”

  “Of course you’re a part of it. I wouldn’t have applied if you hadn’t told me you thought I could get in.”

  “Yeah, that’s true. And you wouldn’t have tested out of your math course if I hadn’t taken the online placement test for you.”

  “Right. So don’t worry about me, all right?” I pleaded. “I’ll be home next week for anything I left behind, but right now I just think I need this time to myself to get used to my new surroundings.”

  “If you don’t want me to come, Kathryn, just say so.”

  “It’s not that I don’t want you to come, I just—”

  “So I can come? Cool! I’ll be there in fifteen min—”

  “No, Brian, it’s not that either. It’s not that I don’t want you to be there today; it’s just that I don’t need you there. I need to learn to be independent. I need to do this by myself.”

  “Well, then why is your mom coming?”

  “Um, because she’s paying half my tuition and all my room and board, so I don’t want to piss her off?”

  Silence.

  “Brian, seriously! Because she’s my mother, and she’s been looking forward to this day almost as much as I have. She sees it as her matriarchal obligation or something as equally ridiculous.”

  More silence.

  “How about this? Her baby is going to college, and I don’t know why but I have a sneaking suspicion that it’s kind of important to her,” I finished, laying the sarcasm on thick.

  “All right. God. Just do your thing, okay, and I’ll be here if you change your mind. I love you, okay?”

  “I know, Brian, and seriously, I thank you.”

  “And?”

  “And what?”

  “And I said I love you,” he huffed.

  “I know you do, and I love you, too. I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

  “You’ll call tonight?”

  “If I can. I don’t know how busy I’ll be with meeting my new roommate and getting situated and all, so don’t worry if I can’t call, okay?”

  “All right. I’ll leave you a message or something. Love you, babe.”

  I rolled over and glanced blearily at my clock. Nearly noon. About time to start the day that would begin the rest of my life.

  “Ryn? Kathryn!” my mom called from downstairs. “Are you up yet? You realize you’re moving today, don’t you?”

  I groaned. Leave it to my mother to point out the painfully obvious. So I liked to sleep late on occasion, big deal. We lived a half an hour from the university. It wasn’t as if we were going to be locked out if we arrived after five. I had packed the van up with all my stuff last night before I went to bed. That way this morning—or afternoon, as it might be—all I needed to do was get myself ready, throw my last duffel in the car, and argue with Mom about which one of us would be driving to Illington.

  I padded down the hall to the bathroom, preparing myself to enjoy what would most likely end up being my last good shower from quite some time. Once I arrived at the dorms, my whirlpool bathtub with wall-mounted showerhead and five different massage settings would be poofed into something comparable to a water pistol thumb-tacked inside a box stall the size of a milk crate. It was one of the reasons I planned on coming home twice a month for a good bubble bath.

  I took my time shaving and cleaning off with my Amber Romance–scented bath gel. Victoria might not have a lot of secrets left to share, but I sure was glad she had spilled the beans about her garden. I probably owned half of it, accumulated over the course of several years. God help my roommate if she was allergic to scented lotions or body sprays. I might like punk music, but I refused to smell like a crust kid.

  My mom was knocking at the bathroom door. “Do you know what you’re going to wear today, honey? Because if you don’t, please try to be fast about picking it out. If we don’t leave soon we’ll—”

  “Get stuck in traffic, I know, Mom.” I smiled to myself, amused at my mother’s attempt to ask me to get my butt moving in her own polite way. “But don’t worry about it, okay? I picked my outfit out weeks ago. I made a brand-new skirt just for the occasion.”

  “Your tie one?”

  I nodded. I had been to every resale shop in the tri-c
ounty area, plus nicked all my dad’s old ties from the nineties—the ones he hasn’t worn in, like, fifteen years—and sewn them all into a killer knee-length skirt that flared out in a super-hot way just at the tops of my calves. And the ties I stole from my dad really make the skirt scream “Ryn!” All my favorite pieces of clothing were ones I’d made myself, and this one was the best yet. My dad and I had a lot of style things in common—all his old clothes from when he was in college were totally cool. So I’d taken them all and added them to my own wardrobe.

  Funnily enough, I didn’t inherit my sense of style from my dad. My biological dad had left when I was just a little kid, but when my mom had married Frank Minh less than two years later, he’d adopted both my brother and me right away. As far as I was concerned, he was my dad, and I loved him to pieces.

  I was ready. My clothes were on, my hair done—flipped out at the shoulders in that casually messy way—my duffel thrown at the foot of the passenger seat, and I had convinced my mom to let me drive. The only concession I had to make to convince her was letting her pick the playlist, so now we were listening to the Miss Saigon soundtrack instead of my beloved punk rock mixmixm.

  An hour later, thanks to the stupid move-in day traffic, we were parked on the lawn outside East Williams Hall and loading up our first laundry cart of stuff. The towers of East and West Williams were the tallest dormitories at the University of Illington—twelve floors of co-educational living. The quadrangle was under construction, and there were rumors that we were finally going to get a statue of the university’s mascot, Bucky. The Redwood River ran through the center of campus, and there had been many a campus legend constructed about it.

  “Dad said he’ll try to make it to help if he can get off work early,” Mom informed me. “But if not, he promised to take us out for sushi afterward.”

  Excellent. Sushi was my absolute favorite food, even though I’m only half Japanese from my mother’s side. I pushed the cart down the hall as my mom walked in front, looking nosily in every open door we passed.