A First Time for Everything

by Isabel Morin

  “We’ll be in touch,” the man from admissions says, smiling.

  I text Casey as I leave the building, and he appears around the corner as I hit the bottom step.

  “How’d it go?”

  “I don’t want to jinx myself, but I think I did well. And it’s over, which is the most important thing.”

  On the way back to our car I ask him what he did for the hour I was in there.

  “Walked around mostly. I found a cool store that sold vinyl records, so I hung out there for a bit.”

  “There’s not much around here, that’s for sure.”

  “Have you ever been to San Francisco?” he asks.

  I shake my head.

  “You’ll love it.”

  “First they have to invite me for an interview.”

  There’s no place nearby to grab lunch, so we decide to eat when it’s time for us to switch. We hit horrendous construction during my shift, but Casey doesn’t seem fazed by it, and I don’t mind, either. I’m too relieved I’ve gotten through my first—but hopefully not last—interview. And, if I’m being honest, I like being with him too much to care where I am.

  “Did you always want to be a doctor?” he asks.

  “Since I was seven. I fell and broke my wrist, and my mom brought me to the hospital. Even though it really hurt, I was in awe of the doctors. They seemed to know everything.”

  “That’s how it started? You wanted to know everything?”

  “Pretty much. Also, I liked looking at medical books, the grosser the better, and I was constantly trying to examine people.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Not, like, naked or anything,” I hasten to add. “My parents gave me a real stethoscope for my eighth birthday, so I wanted to listen to everyone’s heart and lungs. Which was cute at the time, but apparently less cute when I was twelve.”

  “Hmm. Precocious.”

  “Which is basically another word for annoying. But it was so cool hearing what was going on inside people.”

  “You’re gonna be a great doctor. Not to mention a hot one.”

  I roll my eyes at him. “A little respect, please.”

  “What? I have loads of respect for hot doctors.”

  I shoot him an exasperated look, but the effect is probably ruined by my smile.

  “I wanted to be a paleontologist when I was a kid,” he says. “I used to go on digs in our backyard.”

  “Your parents must have loved that.”

  “They weren’t too psyched when I dug up the front yard, but after some tense negotiations they let me conduct my research where the garden used to be.”

  He must have been adorable. My insides get gooey thinking about a little blond Casey searching for treasure in his back yard.

  “I found tons of stuff,” he continues. “Fossils embedded in rocks, spear tips, a few chunks of turquoise. My friends and I spent hours and hours out there.”

  “That’s incredible. What are the chances of having all of that in one yard?”

  “Zero. I found out years later that my father bought it all and planted it for me to find.”

  “That’s about the sweetest thing I ever heard. He must be pretty great.”

  He sighs, and I can tell he’s thinking about letting him down. “Yeah, he is.”

  We stop at a rest area in New Jersey, where we refuel and grab a quick bite to eat. Casey takes over from there, and then it’s more of the same—miles and miles on Route 95, the only excitement the intermittent construction.

  “I really should have gone into the city more,” I say as we pass an exit for Manhattan.

  “I’ve gone into the city for some shows, but I should have done more.”

  “Really? Broadway shows?”

  He gives me an amused look “I mean shows at clubs. You know, rock ’n roll.”

  I’m such a dork. “Oh, right. I hear the kids are digging that these days.”

  “I’ve also gone on some great trips with my architecture classes.”

  I study the city skyline out my window. “It’s an easy train or bus ride from where I grew up, but I still hardly ever did it. I was always too worried about schoolwork or money.”

  “Let’s go now.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Sure.”

  “Wouldn’t it be better to do it when we’ve had time to plan it out?”

  His look is both exasperated and pitying. “If we put it off, we may never do it. Come on, we’ve got time.”

  “Where would we go?”

  “What about visiting the Cloisters Museum? We can get to it pretty easily from here.”

  “I don’t think I know it.”

  “It’s a medieval monastery that was shipped in pieces from Europe, and it’s filled with medieval art.”

  It’s kind of embarrassing that a guy from California knows more about the city than I do, but it sounds really cool. Besides, it means we get to hang out longer.

  “Okay. Let’s do it.”

  He grins and takes an exit heading east toward Manhattan. Twenty minutes later, we’re driving up the hill toward the museum, and a huge stone building comes into sight. I wouldn’t have guessed it was medieval, but it definitely doesn’t look like it belongs here. We park and climb steep steps to the admissions desk, where a sign says students from New York can pay whatever they want. Casey insists on paying the full twenty-five dollar admission for both of us.

  When I protest, he waves it off. “I’m loaded, remember? Besides, it’s a non-profit.”

  The woman behind the desk smiles. “Well, aren’t you a doll.”

  Even with the map, I can’t keep track of where I am in the place, but it doesn’t really matter. There are rooms of tapestries and sculpture, paintings and stained glass. This being art of the Middle Ages, it’s all religious—Jesus on the cross, the Virgin and child. There’s a beautiful sculpture of a kneeling Mary with a long, serene face that reminds me of Professor Stein.

  Casey comes over to where I’m examining a case of carvings.

  “Check this out,” I say, pointing at a tiny, intricately carved rosewood coffin about three inches long. “It’s a memento mori. People kept them as reminders of the inevitability of death.”

  “You’d think living in the Middle Ages would be all you’d need for that.”

  “No kidding.”

  We make our way out to the main cloister, where the building opens out to a garden.

  “I wouldn’t have thought this was your thing,” I tell him as we walk between pillars onto a path. “I figured you’d be into modern stuff.”

  “Sure, but I appreciate any great architecture and art. You can learn from anything.”

  We sit on one of the benches on the surrounding walkway, and I close my eyes and breathe in the myrtle trees, which are helpfully labeled. Pots of different trees and flowers line the cloister along the base of the archways in a harmony of scents and colors.

  My anxiety over med school and confusion about Casey fade until there’s nothing but the rightness between us.

  I glance over at him and he’s watching me, his mouth curved in a private smile.

  “What?”

  He shrugs. “Nothing. It’s nice here, that’s all.”

  Our peaceful reverie is cut short by the announcement that the museum is closing in fifteen minutes. Still we don’t get up right away. A cloud shifts and golden autumn light spills into the garden and across our feet, like it’s giving us its blessing.

  I look at Casey, smiling my wonder, and he’s at least as dazzling.

  “Ready?” he asks, taking my hand to pull me up.

  But even after I’m standing, he doesn’t let go, and I don’t pull away. We walk like that, hand in hand, back into the cool, dim building, where we wind our way through the tapestry and manusc
ript rooms, passing beneath stained-glass windows blazing with western light.

  We emerge from the gray stone building, blinking in the bright sun. Casey insists on driving, but first he checks his phone and spends several minutes texting. I pull my phone out and reply to my mom, dad, and Audrey, and it takes me all of sixty seconds.

  He must have had his phone silenced all day, because it buzzes over and over again once we’re on the road. No doubt his friends are making plans for tonight, and I won’t be a part of them.

  Of course, I’m the one who made the rule that we can never be seen together.

  “Maybe I should drive so you can work the phone,” I offer.

  He unlocks it with his thumb and hands it to me. “If you put it back on Do Not Disturb for me, I’ll deal with it when I get back.”

  Just as I take it, it lights up with another text from someone named Carrie. Don’t forget about tonight!

  I change the settings and put the phone back in the coffee cup holder.

  I want to say something. I almost do. Who’s Carrie? Is there anyone else? Do you look at them like you look at me?

  I say nothing, but my hands clench in my lap as anger surges through me. Anger at him for making me forget what this really is, and anger with myself for letting him. He makes every girl he’s with feel special. That’s his superpower, and it’s why they make such fools of themselves over him.

  I’m not going to be one of them.

  It was amazing of him to drive down with me, but I’m still a nerd who’s more comfortable at the library than at a party on a Friday night. Casey works harder than I gave him credit for before I really knew him, but he’s a born flirt and he likes to party. The two of us would never work.

  Maybe it’s good I got this reality check. My feelings for Casey have been changing as I get to know him better, and he’s right that fooling around with him has made me more attached. But I’m a rational person. I’m getting everything I wanted out of my arrangement with him. As long as I stay focused and don’t let myself forget what we are to each other, I’ll be fine.

  Still, I can’t help wondering who Carrie is.

  Casey’s humming along to Charlie Parker and navigating the rush hour traffic we’ve run into. He turns and looks at me with a warm, happy smile, like there’s no place he’d rather be.

  He must see something in my face, because the smile falls away.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. I’m just tired.”

  He’s tired, too, so neither of us says a whole lot on the way back. We get to campus at seven thirty and drop the Zipcar off. The temperature has dropped into the fifties, and it’s chilly as we trudge back to our dorm, stopping on the way to grab food from the dining hall right before it closes.

  “Thanks again for coming with me,” I say as we reach his door. “I owe you one.” I hoist my bag higher on my shoulder.

  “You really don’t. I had a good time.”

  I stand there, uncertain what to say or do. Uncertain what I feel. I’ve been with him since five o’clock this morning, and I still don’t want to leave him.

  “You want to come in for a bit?” he asks.

  “Don’t you have plans for tonight?”

  He shrugs. “I might end up going out later. Nothing’s set in stone.”

  Audrey pops out of Derek’s suite farther down the hall. “I thought I heard you guys. How’d it go?”

  “Good, I think,” I tell her. “It’s hard to know. What about your interviews?”

  “One guy was kind of an ass, but the other one was great.”

  “Let’s eat with them,” I say to Casey. “They know we’re back, anyway.”

  Together we head down to Derek’s room. Casey sits on the floor and leaves the open spot on the couch for me so I can sit next to Audrey.

  “We’re heading to Packard’s after this for some pool,” Derek says. “You guys in?”

  I don’t let myself look at Casey. “Sorry, I’m exhausted. I’m going to bed pathetically early tonight.”

  Casey hesitates. “I’ll go for a beer or two, but I’m meeting Ed and those guys later.”

  Don’t forget Carrie, I silently add.

  I eat my dinner without saying much. I wish I understood what was happening between Casey and me. I have the feeling that if I had let him know I wanted to be with him tonight, Carrie would be history.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Despite being exhausted, it takes me forever to fall asleep. I keep thinking I hear Casey with a girl, which isn’t even possible with two closed doors between me and the hallway. Somewhere around midnight I wake up, and without thinking I get out of bed and open the door to the hall.

  “Hannah?”

  I gasp and spin around, and there’s Audrey sitting on the couch in the dark, eating a pint of Ben & Jerry’s.

  “You nearly scared me to death.”

  “I thought you were sleepwalking. It was so weird you didn’t see me.”

  “I just woke up, so I guess I’m kind of out of it.” I stand there, not knowing what to do.

  “Well, don’t let me stop you if you need to go to the bathroom.”

  “Oh, no. I was just…”

  “You were sneaking down to Casey.”

  “Yes, but not to see him.” I sit down next to her on the sofa and pull the afghan over me.

  Audrey hands me the ice cream and spoon. “What do you mean, not to see him?”

  “Some girl texted him about hanging out tonight.”

  She gives me an appalled look. “You checked his phone?”

  “No! Of course not. He handed it to me when he was driving so I could change the settings, and I saw it.”

  “Okay. That doesn’t explain why you were heading to his room.”

  I slouch lower in my seat. “I was going to walk by his door and see if I heard anything.”

  “Oh, Hannah. This is so not good.”

  “I know.” I take a bite of ice cream. It’s chocolate, but I don’t really taste it. “Did you see him with anyone tonight?”

  She takes the ice cream back. “There are always girls around him, and he’s a flirt, so yes, of course I did. But I couldn’t tell you anything. He didn’t hang around long.”

  “She could be over there with him right now.”

  “Yes, that’s true. You two are not dating, so he’s allowed to do that. Not only that, I got the feeling he wanted to be with you tonight, but you’re the one who didn’t want to hang out.”

  “I thought it would be smart to put some distance between us.”

  Her voice is gentler than I’d expect. “How’s that working out?”

  I don’t bother answering. We pass the ice cream back and forth for a few minutes without talking, and I finally get out of my own head enough to notice how down she seems.

  “Did something happen tonight?” I ask.

  “Not really. I saw Todd with another girl, that’s all. I thought he’d get over me not wanting to be more serious about him, but he didn’t.” She shrugs. “It’s not a big deal.”

  “If you want to talk about it…”

  “There’s nothing else to say. I don’t want to get serious about anyone, especially not my last year here. It’s ridiculous.”

  That’s kind of the prevailing feeling at Carlyle. Most people here are overachievers, and we’re all gunning for the next big thing in our future. No one wants to get slowed down by anything. Todd must not have gotten the memo.

  She sighs and licks the spoon.

  “I can’t decide if I should have sex with Casey,” I blurt into the silence.

  She puts the empty carton on the table and sits back, her expression resigned. “All right, lay it on me.”

  “Everything we do feels amazing. Plus I trust him completely, and I want to have sex before graduation
.”

  “Have you been making pro and con lists again?”

  Sometimes it’s hard having a friend who knows me so well. “Maybe. But only in my head.”

  “What are the cons?”

  “I’m afraid I’ll start feeling more for him.”

  “If you want my opinion, I think some people can be blasé about sex—me, for instance—and others can’t.”

  “You think I’m too sensitive to have sex?”

  “I think it’s going to mean something to you, and that could get messy. It already is. I mean, look at you now.”

  “It freaked me out seeing the text, that’s all.”

  “Like I said.”

  “Maybe I could learn to be blasé,” I say, without much conviction.

  “You were on the verge of stalking Casey a few minutes ago, so I’d say that’s not likely. But if you do have sex, you need to shut it down after that. I can’t keep this from Jen if it goes on any longer.”

  “I know. I’m sorry.”

  “I’m not sure you really get it, though. Imagine if Jen was sleeping with Todd behind my back.”

  “That’s not the same thing. You were actually dating Todd.”

  “Who cares? I’m talking about being a good friend.”

  I don’t know what to say to that, and Audrey’s patience seems worn thin. She probably didn’t need my problems on top of her own.

  “I should go to bed,” I say, handing her back the ice cream.

  She doesn’t argue.

  …

  Between working at the clinic and studying in the library, I don’t see Casey all weekend. I think he had an away rugby match, so he probably wasn’t around much, either. I still haven’t figured anything out when Monday rolls around, so instead of going to the dining hall I eat lunch in the food court.

  Wednesday evening I walk by Casey’s door and hear music playing, and though I want to see him more than anything, I make myself pass by. But a couple hours later I’m studying in my room when my phone dings.