Chapter 5

Walking across campus, I felt excited to break free from my parent’s control and had wanted to push the boundaries. I had a firm 11pm curfew throughout high school and mom kept tabs on me at all times. It was a blessing phone tracking wasn’t available, so she couldn't see I was getting alcohol poisoning in a random field somewhere when I had said I was at a "lacrosse sleepover." I had felt a change within myself so I didn't feel an urgent need to go drink questionable punch in a dirty frat basement. My shift in priorities left me curious as to what else Wexford had to offer. I pursued the different club tables that lined the quad, beckoning freshmen to join their various activities. “Hey Ya” by Outkast blared from the speakers of one table while other freshman girls, sweating in their Juicy Couture tracksuits in the August heat of Southwest Virginia signed up for rush events. My introverted self hurried past the sororities and I curiously stopped at Wexford Outdoors. The university was situated in the New River Valley and this would be a great opportunity to explore the area. I had always enjoyed my time at summer camp and was eager for an opportunity to try backpacking. I scribbled my email onto their clipboard and started on my way when a study abroad table caught my eye. Intrigued, I began to browse their brochures while a volunteer asked me what type of experience I was looking for. 

“I haven’t declared my major yet but I’ve always been creative and good with computers,” I said, hoping she’d point me in the right direction.

“There’s a waitlist for it but we have a half semester graphic design program in Japan,” she mentioned. Japan. I had originally intended to push the boundaries of my parent’s rules, not the country but this program sounded fascinating. I’d dabbled in graphic design during my many art classes in high school and enjoyed it. 

“Could I join the waitlist?” I asked.

“Sure!” She replied and handed me a clipboard. I purposefully made my handwriting as legible as possible. 

It was bizarre to see people walking around and actually conversing and not looking down at their phones. I pulled my flip phone out and decided to give Luke a call. I had noticed when I went to phone my mom that I had a bunch of missed calls and texts from "Luke <3" and needed to make some necessary adjustments. Though I knew our short relationship was a blip on the radar, he was a sweet guy and I owed it to him to release him of any commitment. 

"Hey,  beautiful," his deep voice came through the phone. I tried to picture him - green eyes, sandy hair, chiseled jaw. Too bad he wasn't my soulmate, he was lovely to look at. 

"Hey Luke, we need to talk," I blurted out. I was never good with confrontation. "There is no easy way to say this and I do care about you a lot. But I think that attempting a long distance relationship at 18 won't be a good idea and I'm afraid one of us would get hurt." Silence on the other end.

"So you're just dumping me so you can slut it up at Wexford." I gasped like Karen in Mean Girls after Regina called her a whore.

"No... I just don't think we have a strong enough foundation to make a long distance relationship work." We had only gone to prom together and dated over the summer so it wasn't like we were in a long term relationship to begin with. "I'm sorry, Luke. I really care about you as a person and you are a sweet boyfriend who is going to make some girl at Dartmouth very happy. I'm just not at Dartmouth, I'm at Wexford and we are too young to make that kind of commitment." Hopefully, he got the point.

"Yeah, you're not Dartmoth material and it's not like I would have married a Wexford girl anyway." I wasn't expecting him to be this nasty but some shift within myself had given me the thick skinned nonchalance of an older and wiser person. The cliche post prom sex wasn't good, more reminescent of a Sex and the City episode where Carrie got pounded by the jackrabbit. Our only connection was that we went to the same high school and now that was over, it was time to move onto the next phases of our respective lives. I sighed, wanting the conversation to be over.

"Ok then," I said. How do I dump him harder? "Good luck at Dartmouth and maybe we'll run into each other in the future, who knows." I wanted to be nice.

"I hope not," he said, hanging up.

Ok, well fuck you too then. 

My phone dinged with a text notification moments later.

“Only losers go to Wexford,” Luke had written. 

“You have friends here…” I replied.

“Whatever, they’re losers, too.” I guess the whole Ivy League superiority complex goes to your head pretty fast, which was pretty rich coming from a guy who couldn’t parallel park.

I slipped my RAZR back into my Coach bag and fished out my baby blue iPod mini and let Natasha Bedingfield’s ‘Unwritten’ serenade me through my earbuds. I was finally shaking off the memory of having deja vu the previous night, writing it off as an adrenaline rush. My close encounter with the police did leave me a bit more cautious, though.