UI 101

by M. K. Claeys

  I threw my entire cup of beer in his face, soaking him from his head to his shoes. “Go to hell, Dave, and say hi to your girlfriend for me when you get there.” I tossed the now empty cup into the sand and turned on my heel to find Sara Lynn standing ten feet behind me with her friends, her jaw dropped in shock.

  “I take it we’re leaving?” she asked mildly. I responded by throwing my keys at her and stalking over to my car, fists clenched at my side and head held high. No way was I letting the Evansdale Erratics see me cry.

  I let myself in the passenger side to my car and fastened my seat belt, waiting for Sara Lynn to say her goodbyes and catch up to me. It didn’t take long, but it felt like an eternity. A lifetime later, we were driving down the deserted highway in silence.

  The next week, I pulled as many extra hours at the diner as I could. The more I kept myself busy, the less I had to think about all the shadows that had come out of the woodwork since I’d gotten home. I contacted Mitzy and Ryn to see how their holidays were going and even left a voice mail for Paul. Brad, on the other hand, I called twice a week, but had never received a call back. It didn’t bother me too much, though, since I had other things going on. Brad did text me to wish me a Merry Christmas, though, and I saved it in my inbox, because he had also said that he couldn’t wait to see me again. I adamantly refused to go with Sara Lynn to the New Year’s kegger, although I did convince my dad to let her go without me, and only had to swear on my life that I would go get her at one a.m. and get us both home safely. Instead, I rang in my New Year with dear old Dad, my sister-in-law and brother, and my niece and nephew. It was good to see Mya and Melvin again and a relief that all they wanted to hear about from me was how soft the grass was in Indiana.

  My last shift at work before I would head back to Illington, Dave Baxter came and sat in my section. I would have asked one of the other girls to take his table, but I was the shift leader that night and had already cut the other two closers.

  I took his order, as I had for every other guest I had waited on that day, and made nothing personal of the interaction. I desperately wanted to pour his drink over his head right then, but then I’d have had to mop it up at the end of my shift.

  He sat there for some time, looking at an assortment of pamphlets, and so after I cleared his dishes and brought him dessert, I kept refilling his drink whenever it got low. I even lent him one of my pens and a guest check pad for him to take notes on whatever he was looking at. When he paid his bill, I cashed it in at the till and brought him back the change.

  “Keep it.”

  “Dave, there’s like, thirty-five dollars in here.”

  He shrugged and pulled his hooded sweatshirt over his head. “Are you telling me you don’t want it or need it where you’re going?”

  “I don’t need charity, Baxter, especially not from you.”

  “You don’t owe me anything, and I’m not trying to buy you.”

  When I tried to press the money into his hands, he just sighed and put them into the kangaroo pouch of his hoodie.

  “Just take it, all right, and use it for something that makes you happy. I won’t take no for an answer.”

  I looked guiltily down at the cash in my hand and then placed it carefully into my apron pocket. “Thanks, Dave.”

  “Welcome. Drive safe, Auraelia. Good luck in Illington.”

  “I will. Thanks.”

  He took his hands out from his sweatshirt, gathered up his things, and made his way to the door. I followed so I could lock it behind him.

  “Hey, Dave?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Good luck to you, too. Here, or wherever you’re going.”

  He smiled. “Thanks.”

  I took the money home and put it in the envelope Abigail had given me at the end of the summer. I didn’t bother looking at what she had left inside for me, but taped the envelope shut and put it in my suitcase. I would use it when I needed it…when I needed a little piece of home.

  Three hours on the road to Illington, my phone rang in the passenger seat. It was Brad.

  “Hey, Rae! How was your vacation?”

  “Vacation? Please! I worked the whole time and got bombarded with small-town questions about big-city life. Not that Illington is big, with its population of forty-five thousand, ten of those being students, but still, it’s definitely bigger than Evansdale.”

  “So I take it you’re not coming back to Illington because you missed home so much?”

  “Brad, don’t even joke. I’m already on the road. I plan to be the first person waiting in the parking lot when they unlock the doors to let us back in.”

  “Are you? Well then, I’ll have to leave a bit earlier. I can’t wait to see you, Rae. I missed you a lot.”

  I grinned. “Did you, now?”

  “You know I did. The girls at home don’t compare to you, and they always smell like a tanning booth.”

  I laughed. “So what’s up, then?”

  “I was thinking that I wasn’t quite ready for vacation to end. Did you want to spend the night in my room Saturday night? You know, just to make the break last as long as possible.”

  “Sure,” I said coolly, hiding just how excited I was so he wouldn’t think I was a freak.

  “Cool. Don’t make any other plans, now. I want you to myself.”

  “I don’t know, Brad. Ryn and Mitzy might be tough competition.”

  “I’ll fight them for you.”

  “Sweet. Can I sell tickets?”

  “Whatever makes you happy, babe. So I’ll see you on Saturday? Looking extra hot?”

  “You bet.”

  “All right, later babe!”

  Oh yeah. After all the bull that had happened back in Evansdale over Christmas, I wasn’t even bitter about leaving behind the seventy-degree weather and heading back to snowy Illington. I’d forgotten after nearly four weeks just how much I missed Illington and how hot Brad’s voice sounded and how much I wanted to see him. Contrary to how most other college students felt, Christmas break was over, and I was going home, not leaving it. Things were finally going my way.

  14

  Kathryn

  I’d only been home for three days and already I felt like I was suffocating. It was like my mom didn’t want to go anywhere without me going along for the ride. I mean, yeah it was pretty sweet that every time I ran errands with her she would buy me something, but I honestly missed my friends. I missed the way Rae would sit at her desk in her towel for hours on end, and I even missed the way Mitzy would always knock before she came in our room, even if the door was open. But I especially missed Paul. I missed our walks home together from class, I missed playing matchmaker in the cafeteria over a nice, hot plate of animal byproduct, and I just missed having a friend who I could sit in total silence with for hours and feel like it was the best conversation I’d ever had. My brother Adrian came home to visit from his apartment, so that was one consolation prize associated with coming back to the city I’d grown up in. That, and I was back to my glorious whirlpool tub with massage shower head, which in itself was enough to make coming home worth it.

  At least Adrian made me laugh. But he was no Paul. I couldn’t help but wonder what my three best friends were doing in their respective home towns, so I made an effort to keep in touch. It didn’t help that every time I called Mitzy, Jamaal would beep through on her other line, like, ten minutes into every conversation. And the three-hour time difference didn’t help when trying to contact Rae. I learned that one real quick, considering I accidentally called her at eight a.m. her time on a Saturday. And as for Paul, well he was off gallivanting around Ann Arbor—which he referred to as “A-Squared”—and apparently also outing himself to his senior prom date to help her get over her body-image issues, which I was told deteriorated even further after she left for college and rushed a sorority.

  So I decided to make up for what I was lacking—good friends who understood me without a word—by calling Brian. I hadn’t exactly left Illington o
n such a good note with my boyfriend, considering the whole final-exam thing and the fact that Rae rightly wouldn’t let me borrow her notes. In the end, I know I passed, but as for what my exact grade was, well, let’s just leave it at “not so stellar.”

  Okay, fine. I took five classes for my first semester, putting me at the average undergraduate full load of fifteen credits. My grades arrived in the mail, and Adrian helped me shred them before my parents found the mailer. It wasn’t that I was hiding it or anything. All right, maybe I was. But it was more that I didn’t want my parents to be disappointed in me than it was being worried about them refusing to pay next semester’s tuition. Really. I swear.

  In the end, I topped out the semester at the bottom of the barrel: one two-point-five, two two-point-ohs, and two one-point-fives, leaving my cumulative GPA at a fantastic one-point-nine and me on the dean’s naughty list. My college dreams were about to come to a crashing halt at the mention of only two words: academic probation.

  So I sought solitude and comfort in the place I thought I was most likely to find it, seeing as my parents could not ever find out what I was upset about. Brian came over after he got back from his annual trip to Florida to visit his grandparents, and even though he looked really good and everything and was nodding and saying “uh-huh” a lot, I could tell that he wasn’t really hearing me when I answered his question of how the semester had turned out.

  “So you failed everything?” he asked, as he rolled off me.

  “I did not!” I cried indignantly, reaching for my pants. “I passed my introductory theatre class with a C, but the professor graded really hard.”

  “That’s what I don’t get. You should have passed that class with flying colors. Especially with how melodramatic you always are,” he added, pulling his shirt over his head.

  “I am not melodramatic!”

  “Yes, you are. Look at how you’re reacting over just some stupid grades. If you hate Illington that much, why don’t you just come home?”

  I knew it! He just wants me to come back home!

  “From everything you’ve said,” Brian continued as he pulled on his corduroys, “it sounds like a real drag. Come home. We could go back to plan A and get an apartment together.”

  “You know, I think you could stand to be a little more sympathetic,” I said softly as I hooked on my bra. “Going away to school was a big step for me, and it hasn’t really been the easiest adjustment.”

  “Well, sure,” Brian scoffed as he checked under my bed for his missing sock. “If you end up with a bitch of a roommate like Rae, then I would imagine so!”

  “Don’t call Rae a bitch!” I cried, tossing the sock at him from where it had been perched on top of my lampshade. “She is my best friend, and I don’t appreciate you talking like that about her.”

  “Whatever. She is one, but if you don’t want me to be the one to tell you, you can figure that out on your own.”

  I was apparently going to get nowhere on that issue, so I let it drop. “Either way, Brian,” I said, my voice muffled as I pulled my sweater over my head and smoothed out the static from my hair, “I’ve been having a hard time lately, and I could really use your support. I don’t think it would kill you to be a bit of a better boyfriend right now.”

  Brian turned on me, and I could see he was fuming. “You think I need to be a better boyfriend? Are you joking? Ryn, I have put up with all of your crap since we first started dating, so don’t tell me that I need to be more sensitive. Wasn’t I the one who encouraged you to apply to school in the first place?”

  “Yesss…”

  “Exactly. And wasn’t I the one who stuck by you when you were in therapy? Wasn’t I the one who kept on doing our thing and making it so no one would know anything was wrong? Didn’t I keep up the pretense well enough for you during my band’s shows so people thought everything was fine and I had the picture-perfect girlfriend who didn’t mind that she had to take the back seat to my spotlight?”

  “I—what?”

  “You’re fucked-up, Kathryn. Don’t deny it. You’ve got issues, and how many guys do you know who would stick around and deal with all your bullshit?”

  I kept silent. I couldn’t believe what he was saying. Who was this guy, and what had he done with my boyfriend? The one who used to cuddle me after sex, not roll off and immediately reach for his clothes?

  “Exactly,” Brian continued. “None. No guy in his right mind would put up with being told he needs to be a more sympathetic and better boyfriend. No guy would put up with a girl who spent nearly two years in therapy and is on psychiatric drugs. No one. So why don’t you think about that before you come to me next time and tell me that I’m not being good to you? Because if anyone sucks in this relationship, Kathryn, it’s you.”

  And he left, stopping at the door to grab his unopened Christmas present, but not turning back to say goodbye. I was left in my bedroom alone, with only my thoughts for company. And my thoughts had the sneaking suspicion that he was right. I was lucky to have him. I was the one who had changed. That was why he couldn’t be with me the way he used to. Because I wasn’t who I used to be before I left for Illington. And I might have seriously just messed up the best thing in my life.

  I went downstairs and pulled on my hat and mittens, smiling sadly at the bright blue that reminded me of Mitzy and Rae, and went and sat on the back porch. Mom and Dad had gone to Dad’s work Christmas party, and Adrian was chilling in the basement. I think he’d heard the sliding door slam, though, because I hadn’t been outside more than five minutes when he joined me with a dime bag.

  “You and Brian get into it again?” he asked as he finished packing his bowl.

  “Yeah. I think I really messed up this time. Really messed up.”

  He set down the piece and pulled me in for a one-armed hug. “You know how I feel about him, Ryn. I’ve never really been all that sold.”

  “I know.” I nodded miserably. “But he’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

  “The best thing? I don’t think so. What about Illington? You never shut up about it. It’s all you talk about.”

  “That’s not true,” I contradicted. “I talk about Brian a lot.”

  “Yeah, it’s true. You do talk about Brian, but there’s a difference. When you talk about Brian, you get tense and your voice gets higher because you’re frustrated. When you talk about Illington, you smile and your eyes light up. I’d say not only does it make Illington different than Brian—that must make it better than Brian.”

  He sparked his lighter, took a hit, and passed it along to me. I took it and inhaled, feeling my shoulders already starting to relax despite the cold. “Well, maybe he’s not the best thing, then,” I consented. “I’d say Paul is better. And Rae and Mitzy too.”

  “So why not go see them? Just disappear for the weekend. I’ll make your excuses. Go see them for New Year.”

  “I wish I could,” I replied, taking the piece he was handing back to me and taking another long, slow hit.

  “What’s stopping you? I’m sure Mom and Dad will let you borrow one of the cars. Or you could even take mine if it comes down to it. You look like you need a vacation, and you’re obviously not getting it here.”

  “It’s not that. It’s distance. Rae lives in New Mexico, and Mitzy lives in Tennessee. By the time I got to either of their houses, I’d pretty much have to turn right around and come home.”

  “Well, what about the other guy?”

  “What guy?” I passed him back the bowl.

  “This Pat guy. Where does he hail from?”

  “Oh, Paul? Ann Arbor.”

  “Well, that’s not so far. Go to Ann Arbor. Just don’t tell Mom that you’re going to stay with a guy, or she’ll probably let it slip to Brian on accident. You know how she loves to talk. Tell Dad, but tell Mom that you’re going to a girlfriend’s house, just to be safe.”

  “You think?”

  “I do. Call Paul. If he’s your best friend, like you
say, then he’ll love to have you come visit. In fact, since he’s a guy, he’ll probably be mad if you just sit here and suffer the rest of break and you don’t call him.”

  I nodded. We finished off the rest of the bowl in silence and then went inside. I gave Adrian and hug and immediately went upstairs to pack a bag. I talked to my parents when they got home from the Christmas party because I knew my dad wouldn’t mind me going—as he was always really good at reading when I really needed to do something, not just wanted to on a whim—and my mom wouldn’t remember the logistics of the conversation because she’d have had too much champagne. I left the next morning with a few gifts of food and brandy to take to Paul’s parents and was halfway to Ann Arbor before I realized I’d never called Paul to make sure it was all right that I came over.

  “Hey Pauly, what’s up?”

  “Ryn! Hey! Not too much, just chillin’. Kinda missing the ILG, really. But I talked to Shelley about everything, and we’re totally cool now. And I think she’s going to get help for her problems.”

  “That’s great!” I gushed. “I’m really proud of you!”

  “Me too. So what are you up to?”

  “Eh, driving. Where exactly was it in Ann Arbor you said you lived?”

  “South side. Why?”

  “Could you be more specific? Like, as in, what exit do I need to get off on?”

  “What? Ryn, what in God’s name are you doing?”

  “I’m going to visit my friend in Ann Arbor. I was under the impression you knew where he lived. Could you get me directions and maybe find out if it’s cool with him if I come stay the weekend? I kinda forgot to call and ask if it was all right because I was so excited at the prospect of hanging out with someone who actually enjoys my company.”

  “Holy shit, hell yeah you can come! My parents will love you, and you will totally make them happy by getting me out of the house.”

  I pulled over, typed the address into my phone’s map app, and was back on my way. In a little more than an hour, I was pulling into Paul’s driveway having only passed the house by once, and he was running out to greet me in his slippers.