Like Family

“I still don’t understand why you couldn’t just go to Seneca with me,” Savanna said in her naturally soft, quiet voice. Her hands held mine, as my backpack draped from my shoulders. I was going to miss that voice and those hands so much. I leaned forward and kissed her forehead, which lined up with my chin. It was a bit awkward, with my parents standing behind her talking. My mom was checking her watch, waiting to take Savanna home. For my parents, the sadness didn’t hit them until after they got home. Both of them hugged me, and gave me some words of wisdom to last until our holiday break. But last year, and this year, they never shed a tear. For some reason though, I imagined them as the type of people to go home and cry together, and never tell me a word of it.
In the airport, Savanna, my younger brother Robbie, and my parents had walked with me as far as they were allowed. I was leaving for my second year at Northwood New York; the five of us had been through the same process a year before this. I remember how surreal it all seemed last September. First, my dad proposed the idea, saying a guy he works with had a son that loved it, and then the next thing I knew we were visiting the school. While we were touring the grounds, I blinked and I was in the airport, this time flying alone into Campten. Then, I was there, and had friends, and everything was different than it was at home. By the first of June, I was happy to return to my family and my bed, and my own room. But, by the first of August, I realized that Northwood was my home. Being home for the summer, seeing all my friends from middle school, and being able to turn my lights out at whatever time I wanted was great, and felt free. It also felt weird, abnormal, and awkward though. The friends I had in Florida, I loved, but the friends I had at Northwood, were like brothers to me. From sharing a room, a bathroom, a home, a school, with them, a bond grew between us. Although I would never admit it to anyone that August, I found myself missing my bottom bunk, with Ben above me and Stas in a twin bed against the wall which my feet pointed to. He had won in rock, paper, scissors the day we got our room assignments. I missed having guys to talk to all the time.
“You should go sweetie,” my mom looked over Savanna, at me. “Your plane leaves in forty-five minutes.” A faint, content smile sat on her face.
Savanna’s head fell with weakness onto my chest. I nodded at my mom in a small movement, to let her know I heard her.
“I gotta go,” I let out a breath as I whispered to Savanna and put my arms around her body. They squeezed tight, and hers squeezed around my back in return. When her chin raised, I kissed her lips once, quickly, not to gross out my family. I really wished they weren’t there, watching, though.
“Love you,” her face was somewhat pouty as if she could convince me to stay.
“I love you too,” I said before she finally let go of me, as if she needed to hear that before she did. “And, I’ll call you tonight, okay?”
“Okay,” she nodded. Savanna knew it was time for her to walk the other direction and that my parents were getting impatient.
“Bye,” she said, as she walked away, towards my family.
“Bye,” I said to everyone, but my eyes were deep in Savanna’s.
“Bye,” My family all waved and said at different seconds and pitches.
I took hold of the handle on my suitcase, and pulled it behind me, heading for security. After walking a few feet, I glanced behind me. Savanna’s blonde hair laid against the back of her shirt down, past her belt. My mom was looking down at her face, talking to her. As I kept walking forward, I assumed my mom was offering to take her out to eat with them, due to the sad look she wore. Savanna has been a part of not only my life, but my family’s life, since about third grade. Our moms were good friends back then, and we ended up at each other’s houses a lot. By middle school, we realized we had a lot in common, and became really good friends. Eighth grade year, her and I were best friends, and then we started dating. Since then, we had been together and I was pretty sure I loved her. Savanna was kind to everyone, but also quiet and reserved. I was the only person who knows most things about her, and she liked it that way. She and I trusted each other, and we always have enjoyed each other’s company. A few more steps and then I showed the man dressed like a cop my boarding pass, and my school ID.
“Thank you, step on up,” the man barely even looked at them before handing them back to me.
I did as I was told, moving on up with my backpack and my suitcase. The rest of my things had been shipped to Northwood already. After I set my backpack in a gray, austere bin and set it on the conveyor belt, my pocket vibrated, reminding me my phone was in it. I received a cute text from Savanna, saying she missed me already. A smile took over my face, and I hoped people around me didn’t notice. My mind went to Savanna, sitting in the backseat of my car next to Robbie. I partially wished Savanna could come to school with me, but the bigger part of me just wanted to be with my Northwood friends again.
Once I got through strict machines, checked my suitcase, and found the gate I would depart from, I went to find something to eat. My sweatpants hung over the tops of my beige shoes as I walked across the tile, through the terminal. I saw flashy neon signs advertising Mexican food, Chinese food, and even ice cream, but none of it looked too appetizing. Eventually, my eyes came across a soft pretzel shop. This sounded perfect right now. With my hands in my pockets, I wandered into the back of the line. Waiting, I pulled out my phone, and began to text Savanna.
“Hey, are you going to Northwood?” I heard a voice above my head. Looking up, I saw a guy who looked a little older than me. His hair was shorter than mine, looking like it had recently been cut, and his eyes were a brown so dark that you could barely see the black circle in the middle. He was at least four inches taller than me, and very lanky.
“Yeah, are you going there too?” I asked the guy in front of me. I closed my phone and shoved it back into my pocket. I’ll call her later, I thought.
“Yeah, I thought I recognized you from last year,” he said, as he moved forward in front of me. I followed. “Were you in, um, North Wing?”
Northwood is a gigantic school, containing over 4,000 students, so our rooms must have been pretty close for him to remember me. The whole campus is divided into four “wings”: North, South, West, and East. I try to explain them to people by referring to the “houses” in Harry Potter. We have competitions against each other, and there’s an “Advisor” for each wing. Each wing has around 1,000 students, guys and girls, and there’s one person who is like the “president”. North’s advisor last year was Max Gordon. Each year on orientation night, which was tonight, everyone in the wing votes on a senior. They can decline the job if they want, but most consider it an honor.
“Yeah, what room were you?”
“405,” the guy said, moving up in line again. It was almost his turn.
“Oh yeah, around by that big window, where there’s those gray lockers?”
“Yeah, I was with, um, Ryan Vinyard and Kaleb Grey,” he said, as if I might know them. I’m pretty sure the two of them, and the man in front of me in the pretzel line, were a year older than me.
“Are you a junior?” I asked, curiously.
“Yeah,” he said this, and then I realized we were flying out of the same place.
“You live here, in Florida?” I asked. Was there actually someone else from Jacksonville who attended Northwood?
“No, I live in Dallas. I had to get a connecting flight,” he said, nodding his head for some reason.
“Oh, sweet,” I said, not sure what else to say, not knowing much about Dallas, or anyone from there. Luckily, it was his turn to order. He ordered a pretzel with cheese and a large Coke.
“Oh, I’m Nick by the way,” he said, turning to look at me.
“I’m Chas,”
“Chazzzz?” he repeated, wanting to make sure he heard me right. A lot of people do that when I introduce myself, to make sure I didn’t say “Chad”.
“Yeah,” I chuckled.
Nick and I sat at Gate 14 scarfing down our pretzels, talking about who we thought would be advisers this year, and how we agreed on East Wing never winning any of the competitions. We also talked about sports (you must play at least three a year). Northwood is an ‘athletic’ boarding school which pretty much means they care about sports more than they do academics- which is how everyone who attends the school believes all schools should be. Technically, an ‘athletic school’ sees athletics and school as equals, but it’s no secret that teachers here will pass you just so you can play in Friday’s game.
On the airplane, my ticket directed me to a seat near the front, not next to anyone. The trip seemed long, and my headphones plugged my ears the whole time. My eyes fell shut with my head against the window, and I drifted asleep. When I arrived in New York, it was about twenty degrees cooler than Florida. I saw Nick again when I went to claim my luggage, and we shared a cab to Northwood’s campus. The man dropped us off before the ginormous arch which welcomed me. Nick and I both stopped, with our luggage, and just looked up, taking it all in, only for a second. It was like I had forgotten how enormous Northwood was. Last year, when I arrived under the arch, I remember how strange this all was to me. I remember how much I wondered; I might as well have arrived at Hogwarts. This year, everything was different. I had arrived at my second home. My home where the rules were stricter, but everything seemed better. I was treated like an adult here-not only do I live without any parents, but I wake myself up, shower when I want to, eat whatever I want, and go wherever I want whenever I want.
Inside the North Wing, I walked down a hallway towards my room. Room assignments never changed here at Northwood, which I also loved. Stas, Ben, and I had three more years together. Freshman took the senior’s dorms after they left, and kept them until they wore their caps and gowns. My suitcase rolled behind me on the rug which sat atop the hardwood floor. People were standing around in the hallway talking. Everyone wore a smile as I walked past them. We were all excited for a fresh start with more sports, friends, and a break from our parents. Their grins were contagious and I found myself fighting a smile as I turned the corner to walk to my door. It was left ajar, and I saw my other big bag lying on the floor in the middle of the room. I pushed the door all the way open, it hitting the wall behind it, and drug my suitcase into the space. Stopping, and tossing my backpack onto my old bed to claim it again, I looked around at everything. The walls seemed empty, and quiet. I remember this room as always being filled with people, music, naughty posters which once earned us detentions, pictures, books, clothes everywhere, and Ben and Stas. Where are they? I wondered. Bags which I assumed were Stas’s, sat on his bed, but he was gone.
I sat down on the edge of my bed and pulled my phone out of my pocket. Dialing Stas’s cell phone number, I laid back. Jetlag.
“Hello?” Stas’s voice made me excited.
“Hey, buddy. I’m here; where are you?” I sat back up.
“Are you in the room?” Stas sounded exactly the same as I remembered.
“Yeah, get your ass in here,” I said, wanting to see the guy who helped me love Northwood. Stas is one of the funniest, loudest, most exciting people I know. When I went home for summer, he made my friends seem duller and boring. He tries to get with all the girls, and he succeeds with most. His boy-band blonde hair helps him out a great deal.
“I’m comin, I’m comin,” he said before hanging up. It sounded like he was hurrying up.
I dropped my phone on the bed and stood up. My body had so much excited energy- I couldn’t wait for everyone to be here, and orientation to start. Walking over to the door, I saw a sticky note on it.
Ben Abbel
Stas Hoenif
Chas Bandeau
I looked across the hall to see that every big, dark wooden door had a similar sticky note on it. My hand tore the note off and tossed it in the small garbage can, which contained a brand new bag. Looking around, I realized that our room had endured a deep cleaning over the summer. Stas, Ben, and I are the three messiest teenage boys you have ever met. This is good because none of us get mad at each other for the mess, but I guess is bad because there always is one. We just don’t care. I looked over at the desk near the head of my bed, and saw the “Housekeeping Rules” paper, same place it was a year ago.
•          Trash must be taken to dumpster (Friday-North, Saturday-South, Sunday-West, Monday-East) once a week
•          Dishes from the dining hall MAY NOT be taken into rooms (plates, cutlery, glasses)
•          Bathrooms must be cleaned for inspection monthly (1st-North, 2nd-South, 3rd-West, 4th-East)
•          Clothes/towels MUST be placed in a bin/bag labeled with your room number and taken to the laundry room on Thursday before 9 PM. Laundry will be done on Saturday and returned by the end of the day
•          ABSOLUTELY, NO, NEVER EVER PETS ALLOWED!!!
•          If anything inappropriate is found in your dorm, the item will be confiscated, and detentions/expulsions will be given. Just REMEMBER: all advisors and administrators have Master Keys. Advisors REMEMBER: Only you can use your MK, and only to let students into their room or to search with good intentions
•          Dorm room lights and laptops off promptly at 11 PM!
•          *SPECIAL ANNOUNCEMENT*: Library is now open 24 HOURS! Please thank Ms. Baughman for this! And she wanted me to remind you that there is NO FOOD allowed in the library, only drinks in containers with lids   Food in the library will now result in detention
•          If you have any questions about dorm rules, please see your advisor, which will be voted for after orientation, and announced Tuesday, September 2nd, at 9:00 AM
As I finished reading the page, pretty much the same as the rules I had come to know like second nature, I heard footsteps running down the hall. Stas! Before I could even look, he had tackled me in excitement.
“How are ya man?” he asked, his smiling stretching from ear to ear, as we hugged a manly hug.
“I’m good, I’m good,” we released each other. “How was your summer?”  I asked before realizing that none of my friends in Jacksonville had been this excited to see me when I came home from my first year here.
“It was fun; I went to Florida actually. Well, Panama City for a week,” he said, stepping back to make sure all of me still looked the same.
“You should’ve called me, bro. It’s not that close to where I’m at, but still,” I chuckled, happy to see Stas, and even happier that he hadn’t changed.
“Ah, I know,” he said, glancing at the “Housekeeping Rules” for less than a second. “You still with that chick, uh, Savanna?” Stas said, as if he couldn’t remember if that was her name or not.
“Yeah,” I sounded sadder than I meant to.
“Awwwe,” Stas made fun of me. Last year, he and Ben went as far as hanging a whip next to my bed and a sign that said Sorry, ladies. He’s whipped! I did get a laugh out of it, but I never told Savanna because I knew she wouldn’t.
“How’s your lady situation?” I asked him, wondering if he had already found some new conquests for this year.
Stas laughed, “Yeah, I don’t know,” he rubbed his chin. “There’s some cute new freshman here, but I don’t really like freshman; that’d just be weird,” his face looked almost disgusted.
“And you think all the girls in our grade are ugly?” I looked confused probably, as I sat down on my bed again.
Stas thought about it for a minute, sitting upon the wooden table next to his bed. The room came with a desk for each of us. I believe it is to encourage us to do our homework and study, but Stas, Ben, and I usually just use them for extra seating and to get on Facebook. They each had a wooden chair with them; one was on the same wall as the door, next to the head of my bed, one was next to the dresser on the wall to the right of the door, and one was next to the foot of Stas’s bed. The three of us came into this with a plan this year; Ben would bring his hi-tech, new laptop (so we wouldn’t all have to worry about losing ours, or them getting stolen), I would bring the junk food, and Stas would bring his super, ridiculously comfortable reclining chair. He brought it last year, and the three of us ended up fighting over it all the time. Just then, I realized, the chair wasn’t in the room.
“They’re not ugly,” he looked over at me. “I’ve just been through ‘em all,” Stas laughed as if he hadn’t said anything funnier all day. I laughed too though. Stas was always so entertaining.
“Dude, where’s the chair?” I looked at my phone, and began composing a text to Savanna.
“Oh,” Stas said, his histrionic hands going up, and his palms sticking out towards me, as if I was getting really upset. “It’s still in the front hall; I forgot to go back and get it.”
“Want me to help you carry it?” I asked, setting my phone down again, after only typing “I just got h”
“Yeah, let’s go, before someone takes it,” Stas hopped off of the desk, and we headed for the front of the North Wing. Everything was even busier than when I got here.
Stas and I didn’t see Ben until orientation. Orientation is when you go and listen to a long speech from the administrators about how they are looking forward to a great year and so on. It is also when you sign up for try-outs for fall sports. Ben found us in the gym, and the three of us sat together in the bleachers as Mr. Hagan talked and talked and talked. I remember his speech last year, when I sat between my mom and dad. When it’s your first year, your parents have to join you for orientation. After a few important people in the school spoke to us, and got us even more hyped up for the Wing Competitions, which North was expected to win this year, I wrote my name legibly on the try-out lists for soccer and football. Unlike most schools, Northwood’s fall sports didn’t start until September. On Orientation Day you wrote your name down, and then the next day, try-outs began. We were expected to condition on our own over the summer, which I should have done more of, and then be ready to play when we got here. My roommates and I hit each other jokingly, all hoping this year would be just like last’s, on our way back to our rooms.
“Who’d you vote for?” Ben asked me, referring to North’s advisor.
“Kendall Neem. You?” I looked over at him.
“Yeah, same. He picked up my book for me one time when I dropped it in the hallway.”
Stas and I chuckled in unison as we approached our door.
That night I sat on my bed, talking to Ben and Stas. No one bothered unpacking that night; we didn’t have classes until Wednesday. Ben sat on the mattress above me (all of us took our same beds, no questions asked) doing something on his laptop. Stas had already hung up his mini basketball goal and was shooting the stuffed ball into the net. I, meanwhile, was busy putting up pictures. On the wall between Ben’s mattress and mine, to my left, was a thin line of bulletin cork material which ran parallel to the bottom of Ben’s bed. It was rather hidden, and private, which I liked because on this I pushed thumbtacks into the tops of photos of Savanna and I. Trying to stay quiet, I knew Ben and Stas would notice what I was doing anyways. I was pressing a red tack into a photo of Savanna and I on Christmas last year. In the picture she is smiling after tearing the corner of wrapping paper, revealing my gift. I am sitting next to her on the floor by her family’s tree, watching her. My eyes are down on the present as well. I’m not sure who took this picture, or why, considering neither of us was looking at the camera, but I thought it was cute.
Surprisingly, neither Stas nor Ben made a ‘whipped’ joke that night. Maybe they had grown up since last year; but most likely, they just hadn’t noticed the pictures yet. Stas and Ben were in a deep coma by 11:30; I assumed everyone was from their flights and drives. I laid there in bed, watching the small lamp on Stas’s desk. Its glow was very dim. I could see Stas’s big feet pointing upward underneath the blanket. My mouth suddenly stretched, bigger than my mouth should ever stretch. The manly yawn caused my eyes to water, and the back of my throat to feel warm. Trying to find a comfortable position, I twisted myself over on my side, facing the wall. I was claustrophobic, and probably wouldn’t fall asleep like this; I just wanted to see Savanna again before I fell asleep. Seeing the goofy picture I took of her in sixth grade, while she was dressed up as a nerd for Halloween, I remembered that I hadn’t ever called or texted her back. Deciding I would wake up Stas and Ben if I called, I reached for my phone on the desk. My hand fiddled around in the dark between papers, bags of chips, room keys, and a candy bar wrapper of Stas’s before landing on my cell phone.
I miss you too, but December will come sooner than you think, and maybe your parents will let you come visit me this year before then (:
I wondered if she would be upset that I’m just now responding. She would understand that I was busy settling in and everything, but Savanna was the type of girl to get a little ‘jealous’ at times. I sent the message, and then curled back up underneath the covers. I was so happy to be back at Northwood.
The next morning, it was Lazy Tuesday. Lazy Tuesday, here at Northwood, was what most kids looked forward to when they arrived. It’s the day after registration, when most of the preparations for school have been completed, but teachers aren’t ready to actually start teaching. Lazy Tuesday is sort of like our equivalent to “Fat Tuesday”. On this day a huge breakfast feast is served in the dining hall. They open the doors at Nine AM and close them at noon. Seniors always get up extra early and wait outside the door for first pick. Then, the rest of the day is spent socializing, and reconnecting with people who live near you. Some sport’s try-outs start that day, but a coach would never dare schedule them during Breakfast Feast hours. Last Lazy Tuesday, I remember being woken up by Ben shaking me at nine o’clock. He was telling me about how his brother, who just graduated, had told him about the Breakfast Feast. I believe he had described it using the word “Heaven”.
Around 9:30, the three of us were awakened by all the commotion outside of our door, and without even changing clothes or brushing our teeth, we all slipped on shoes (MUST be worn at ALL times in the dining hall) and sprinted to the door. Ben leaped off of his bed behind me. Ben Abbel could eat more than anyone I had ever seen. He wasn’t fat at all, only muscular in the arms, but he ate so much food. He was always the one sneaking in plates from the dining hall to eat later, and the one with his hand and face nuzzled in a Dorito’s bag while doing homework up on his bunk.
The dining hall was pretty far from Dorm 309, but hustling through the crowds of people everywhere, we got to the back of the line. The part that sucked about Breakfast Feast was waiting in line for the people who were eating to finish their meal, opening up a spot at one of the long (I mean at least 100 feet long) wooden tables. Five of these tables extended vertically, taking up most of the space in the room. A kitchen sat behind secretive walls in the back. There were other dining rooms, but they were closed off this morning. This room was always the one used for Breakfast Feast because it was the biggest. None of the rooms could hold all 4,000 enrolled at one time.
Ben, Stas, and I waited in line, the fatigue hitting us, and watched the people in front of us slowly moving forward.
“I’m starving,” Stas yawned, twisting his torso to face me.
“Hey, I forgot to ask you. You still have that one girlfriend?” Ben faced me, too.
“Yeah,” I laughed. At home, everyone knew Savanna and I were inseparable, but here, the Ben and Stas just thought we would break up in time, like most high school couples do.
“Damn, how long’s it been?” Ben looked surprised, but I thought, maybe, just a tiny bit of him was a tinge jealous of my long relationship. Maybe I was wrong, though.
“Wa-chuhhhh!” He made the ‘whipping’ noise, and didn’t fail to include the drastic miming hand movement. Stas laughed hysterically- that laugh that was only funny because everything was funny at 9:30 in the morning
“I am not whipped, she’s my girlfriend,” I smiled, trying not to laugh and trying not to sound defensive because I wasn’t. There was nothing I needed to defend.
“I know, I know. She is cute, though,” Ben said. “Well, from pictures,” he clarified.
Almost thirty minutes later, we finally found spots to sit down. Food was still everywhere around us. As soon as something ran out, those cafeteria workers had a-whole-nother fresh, steaming tray of it to set down right in front of you. Fresh, clean glass plates had been set where we sat down, and the food ran down the whole middle of the table- from end to end.  Pitchers of every kind of juice I had seen sat amidst the grub, and clean glasses were brought after each person left. There were warm, fluffy biscuits, steaming sweet-smelling oatmeal, thick, glittery cinnamon rolls smothered with white icing: Heaven. Every other breakfast food you would want was scattered to my left and right. I dug into the cinnamon rolls first. While eating my second plateful of food, elbows on the table (hoping they wouldn’t be seen), Ben and I were talking to a guy seated across from me and next to Ben. He was a freshman. As the boy was talking to us about how nervous he is for soccer try-outs, I remembered that we hadn’t been here when they announced North’s advisor. I glanced around the room looking for someone who might know, or maybe a sign. Further on down the table, something caught my eye. I saw everyone’s blonde and brunette heads digging into their plates, but then I saw the brightest hair color I had ever seen. The startling part was it looked natural. When I got a tiny glimpse of the side of her face, I saw a dark freckle on her chin. The girl’s hair was as bright red as Lindsay Lohan’s. It hung to about halfway down her spine in subtle waves. This is weird. Why am I so intrigued by this girl’s hair? It’s red hair. I’ve seen red hair before. I quickly looked away, but had lost my train of thought as to what I had been looking for.
“Ready for soccer?” Ben asked, returning from the restroom.
“Yeah, what time is it?” I asked, pulling the last of my books out of the bag sent from home.
“It’s like five-fifteen right now,” Ben bent over his laptop which sat on its desk. His hands were on each side of the computer as he looked at its screen.
“Oh,” I said, heading to my bag quickly to look for some shorts. “Shit.”
The first day of soccer try-outs went about the same as it did last year, except the scared, little freshmen, weren’t us. I practiced at center, shooting on Ben, who was determined to be Varsity’s goalie this year, or at least ‘back-up goalie’. A lot of the guys trying out were the same that played with Ben and me last year, but there was a lot of new freshman who wanted to play. Sports here aren’t easy, everybody makes it, sports. There are so many kids in the school, that you have to be amazing to make the teams, and it’s a requirement to make three. I haven’t ever asked what would happen if you didn’t make three, but there are so many sports here, that I didn’t really see how someone could do that. Ben and I were pretty lucky, though, to make the boys’ soccer team as freshman. We were on the “freshman team” of course, but still, I felt lucky. This year I wanted to make Junior Varsity, and next year I wanted to play Varsity. My body somehow managed to keep up with everyone as we ran five miles at the end. All the junk food and no exercise over the summer, plus the feast I just took in that morning, didn’t help me.
Afterwards, Ben and I stopped in the dining hall and had dinner before returning to our room. Just as I saw Stas sitting with his feet up next to the computer, on Facebook, a woman spoke over the PA system.
“I just wanted to remind everyone to make sure and go visit all the classes on your schedule tonight, and make sure you know where they are all because starting tomorrow all sophomores, juniors, and seniors will get detentions for being tardy,” Click, she hung up the microphone. The dormitory PA system was almost never used; the only time I had heard anyone speak through it, was once last year when we had a fire drill.
“I’m too lazy,” Stas didn’t look up from the laptop’s screen. I noticed he was wearing his glasses, which he only wore when he was reading or on the computer for a long time.
“Me too, why don’t freshmen get detentions yet?” Ben agreed, arduously climbing the ladder to his bunk. “I’m pretty sure last year Mr. Lasleo gave me a detention on my first day for being late.”
“Yeah, that’s ‘cause Mr. Lasleo’s an ass,” I pointed out, collapsing into the soft, big, cloud-like blue recliner.
“Will you toss me my phone?” I asked Stas. He, without responding, picked up the phone that sat on the desk, and threw it back towards me. It hit my belly button.
“What’s so interesting over there?” I asked Stas’s who’s eyes I hadn’t seen leave the screen since I walked in. He scrolled down and didn’t answer for a while.
“Both of you, come look at this,” he began to smile.
Ben climbed down from his lair, I rose from my throne, and we both went and looked over Stas’s shoulders.
“Okay, this girl,” he touched the screen with the tip of his finger and looked back to make sure we were watching. On the screen was a picture of two girls; Stas’s finger was on the blonde one. Her smile looked forced, and like she had been holding it for a while, waiting for the picture to be taken. Her low-cut shirt showed her cleavage, and her face was caked with makeup. But overall, if I hadn’t been critiquing the picture so closely, I would have thought she was a really pretty girl. She was. “Is texting me, telling me she wants to meet me in the library tonight.” Stas seemed surprised at the easiness of this girl.
“Wait,” I looked at the picture again. “Is she a freshman or sophomore?”
“Sophomore,” said Stas, setting his elbow on the desk and rubbing his chin in the arch between his index finger and thumb.
I chuckled and walked away. Seeing Stas’s journeys with girls was better than a movie.
That night the three of us didn’t bother going to bed at a decent hour. The first day of classes we didn’t do any work; we just went over syllabuses, met the teachers, and looked around to see who we would sit by. So, instead, the night of Lazy Tuesday we stayed up late, busted out the junk food stash and unpacked our suitcases. This is going to be a good year, I thought as the three of us cracked up at something Ben said at two AM.
The next day was an early one. We forgot to set our alarms of course, and knowing most students would, a loud bell rang throughout the whole school sharply at seven o’clock. Usually, there weren’t many bells at Northwood. The school was to teach responsibility by expecting us to wake up and make it to our first class on our own. Morning classes begin at 7:30 and end at 2:00; afternoon classes begin at 2:30 and end at 9:00. The schedules are really confusing and impossible to explain to my friends in Florida. I tried once during Christmas Break last year, but they quickly became uninterested and quit following. Everyone’s schedule is pretty much different. At any given time, there are people everywhere: the dining hall, dorm rooms, loitering in the wings, and in classrooms. Some people’s schedules have a few morning classes and a few afternoon classes in one day. Some people’s schedules have all morning classes in a day, and some people’s schedules have all afternoon classes. Every other day it switches. You have a schedule of classes for one day, and then another schedule of different classes for the next day. Most students are enrolled in eight classes, but some are taking more to get college credits or to not have to take them as a senior. There’s also some that are taking less, putting them off for senior year, or because of learning differences. This year, I have nine classes on my schedule. My mom wanted me to take an extra math class this year. It will help my grades ‘weigh’ more, giving me a little bit of money from the state for college. It’s awful though, because I absolutely, with a burning passion, hate math. It’s like trying to interpret Chinese.
My first class was English, followed by Business Math, and then, finally, our Sophomore Hour for lunch. Freshman get 45 minutes, sophomores and juniors get an hour, and seniors get an hour and 15 minutes. The way we do lunch at Northwood, though, is different than most American high schools. All sophomores don’t have to go sit down in the dining hall and eat lunch during Sophomore Hour. You can go to you dorm, work on homework, or just hang out. You’re allowed to go eat lunch whenever you want to, and don’t have class, technically. But Sophomore Hour is when most of the sophomores do, because it’s at noon every day and all the sophomores are out of class. Juniors and seniors think they’re much cooler than us, so I would never eat during their lunches. And, no one wants to eat with the tiny freshman.
I ate with Stas, Ben, and Kelly, the girl Stas showed us the picture of the night before. She was pretty. She wore very little makeup in real life, and dressed more conservatively. Her blue shirt was tight on her torso, and her jeans squeezed her legs. In a way, she reminded me of Savanna, which is partially why I thought she was pretty. Kelly laughed at every single one of Stas’s jokes. Well, actually, I’m pretty sure she laughed at everything Stas said. It was kind of annoying, but cutely obviously that she couldn’t help herself- she just was really into him. Ben and I decided to go back to the room after about half of our lunch hour; it was somewhat awkward being the third wheels with Kelly and Stas. So, we let them finish their lunch alone, and after putting away our dishes, headed for Dorm 309. Ben went to the restroom, leaving me walking alone through the halls. I didn’t see many people, but I did see one girl walking straight towards me, from the opposite end of the hall. Her face was positing downward, doing something on her phone. The top of her head was bright scarlet-red-auburn. Why does she look so familiar? I asked myself. My face turned puzzled. I thought for a minute, as we both kept walking forward. Then, I remembered Breakfast Feast yesterday. I had seen her, or a glimpse of her, or maybe I just saw her hair. Boom.
I had seen her, but somehow we had still managed to run into each other. My shoulder hit hers. Her shoulder felt small and fragile, but strong, against mine. I felt bad for bumping into her. It was my fault. She was texting; she didn’t even see me. I saw her- my fault.
“I’m so sorry,” I said, possibly overly-apologetic. My hands realized they were on her shoulders. She still hadn’t said anything, but she was looking me in the eyes, as if amazed, or humored. I couldn’t tell. Her eyes shone blue-ish gray, and her skin was fair, but a couple dark freckles decorated it. One sat on the side of her chin, and one sat on her cheekbone, right under her left eye. Noticing her phone wasn’t in her hands, I looked down. The back, the battery, and the phone, were separate, on the thin rug. I picked up all three pieces and surrendered them. She was still looking me in the eye when I looked up, but then she immediately looked down into her palms and started putting her phone back together.
“Uhm,” she cleared her throat. “Thank you.”
“No problem,” I backed away gracefully. Should I say something else? Detecting my heart was pumping much faster than it ever had before; I placed my hand on it as I walked down the hallway. My face wore a confused expression as I wondered if something was wrong with me. Maybe it was just because of the hard impact. Maybe I forgot how to interact with girls besides Savanna, from being with her for so long. I couldn’t help it- my head turned and I looked back at the girl with the Lindsay Lohan hair. Oh shit, she was glancing back too. Our eyes met for the most intensely awkward and embarrassing second of my life, before I quickly looked down at the floor and then back up to my feet, and then in front of me. I closed my eyes tightly in disbelief, slid my angry fists in my pockets, and then took a deep breath. A small bashful smile overcame my lips. Discretely, I looked back a second time before rounding the corner.
After I found the key in my pocket and used it to open our door, I went and lay down on top of my bed. My feet kicked one another’s shoes off, onto the floor, and my head fell on my pillow. I reached for my phone which slept on my nightstand during class. I had one new text message. Excitedly expecting it to be from Savanna, I pushed “Read”. A tinge of disappointment hit me when I saw that it was actually from my buddy Andy in Florida.
How’s everything at northwood? Jacksonvilles lame as always, thought I’d let you know.
It was a simple, boring, text message, but reminded me that he cared and remembered. Thinking he was still in class, I didn’t respond. I will later, I thought. Just as I slid my phone back to its place and ran my finger backwards through my hair, Ben appeared in the doorway.
“Dude,” he said, pointing his thumb into the hallway. “Stas and that girl are like, mad making out right now.”
I let out a short laugh, running my hand down over my eyes in a sort of disappointed, disbelief look. Only Stas.
“In the hallway?” I gave Ben a confused face.
“Yeah,” he laughed sitting down at his laptop.
“Poor girl,” I joked.
“Wait, are you already done today?” Ben looked back at me.
“Yeah,” I said; realizing this made me smile. As freshman, you had to have morning and afternoon classes every day, but after that, everything changes. You are given more freedom and less class time. It’s amazing.
“Sweet,” Ben said, adjusting his position in the wooden chair.
“What about you?” I asked, sitting up, turning and resting my chin on my fists, my elbows on my knees, and my feet on the floor.
“I have Basketball Ed at 7:45, but that’s it,” Ben’s eyes were focused on logging in to Facebook.
“You’ve never played basketball?” I didn’t mean to sound as surprised as I did. If you haven’t ever played a sport for any team, or if you are planning on being on that sport team at Northwood that year, you have to take a “Sports Ed” class on it. The class just teaches you the basics, and only lasts for one semester. The school wants everyone to have a ‘well-rounded sports education in all sports’, ‘”major” in three sports’, and have ‘one sport chosen as their “passion” by the time they graduate’. These three “guidelines” are on a large brick sculpture near the middle of the campus. So far, I have finished all of the ‘well-rounded sports education’ part; I had to take Lacrosse Ed and Tennis Ed last year, having not ever played either. As it turned out, I fell in love with lacrosse and tried out for the team last spring. I obviously didn’t make it, being a freshman who had never played, but I spent a lot of my free time passing around with Stas outside in the courtyards. Over the summer, I made an indoor league, and now I hope to make Northwood’s team this spring. As for my “majors”, soccer is a definite, but the other two are between crew, lacrosse and football. My ‘passion’ will end up being soccer, most likely.
“When would I have played basketball?” Ben laughed.
“I don’t know; I played when I was like six for the YMCA, so I didn’t have to take it,” I said, standing up, picking up my phone again. I haven’t talked to my mom since I got here; she doesn’t want to be pushy by calling me first, but the longer I waited to call, the more upset she would probably be when I did.
“Yes, you see, but I played soccer at the Y when I was six,” Ben’s eyes didn’t leave the screen.
“Hello?” my mom’s sweet voice answered after the second ring.
“Hey Mom,” I paced across the room pointlessly.
“Hi, Sweetie,” she said. “Did you go to all your classes today?”
“Yeah,” I said, lowering myself into the comfy reclining chair.
“Do you like all of your teachers?” she asked. I sensed her wishing I would spill every detail of my life from the plane ride to meeting Nick to what I’m trying out for to the new library hours to the Feast to the girl with the Lindsay Lohan hair to Stas’s new conquest, well accomplishment now, to me missing Savanna.
“Yeah,” I said simply, wishing I had more to share.
“You going out for football?” My mom asked me.
“Yeah, I don’t know if I’ll make it though,” I said, sounding more unconfident than modest.
“Well, just remember to try your hardest. Because you know you’ll hate yourself afterwards if you don’t,” Moms always give the best advice. It’s like they have been through everything. “When do try outs start?”
“Tomorrow morning at like five,” I told her.
“Oh God. Well make sure you get a really good night’s sleep. I mean it, Chas. If you stay up ‘til two o’clock with Ben and Stas, you won’t do as good. And eat before you go. Even if it’s just a little Power Bar or something, you don’t want to play on an empty stomach.”
“I know, Mom,” I assured her.
“And you’re going out for soccer, right?” she made sure. Soccer has always been her dream for me. She wants me to be the next David Beckham, and she has done everything in her power to help me get there, including sending me to Northwood.
“Yeah, those try outs started today,” I said, resting my palm behind my head while the other one held the phone against my ear.
“You feel like you’re still as good as you were last year?” she asked me.
“Yeah, I think so.”
“And is Ben trying out again?” My mom was curious. Dumb question, I thought. Like me, Ben’s whole life is soccer.
That night I actually did take my mother’s advice and was in a deep slumber by eleven. The alarm on my phone went off annoyingly at 4:30 AM. The only thing that lifted my body out of bed was knowing that I would be able to go back to sleep after football. In the dark, I turned on the small lamp on my desk. My eyes hadn’t opened all the way yet as I walked across the room to pull a t-shirt and socks out of the dresser. I then picked up my cleats off the floor, sat on my bed quietly, and slid them onto my feet. Standing up slowly, I pulled the t-shirt I had slept in off, over my head. Looking down, in the dim light, I saw my small bellybutton, and noticed how small it actually was.
All of a sudden, as I was standing there in my basketball shorts and cleats looking at my bellybutton, I heard a small gasp come from outside the door. Stas, Ben, and I, rarely slept with our door open, but sometimes we would forget to close it. One of the few noises at 4:30 AM made me immediately look. The small lamp’s light allowed me to see who had made the noise. A girl was standing outside of our door. Her hand was over her heart and her chest was rising and sinking rapidly. She looked like she had just seen a ghost.
“Sorry,” she whispered, her eyes going back and forth between my chest and my face in the darkness. I was very confused. Who was she and what was she doing in the hall in front of our room? “You scared me. I just got lost on my way to the bathroom; I. Am new here,” she whispered before letting out a breath as a tiny, quiet laugh.
I chuckled at the poor freshman and then wondered if it was actually Kelly sneaking in to hook up with Stas. My eyes tried to adjust to the lighting and figure out if it was indeed, Kelly. I realized the girl was wearing baggy sweatpants and a dark t-shirt. Her hair was messy and wavy, free-looking. Her eyebrows were pointed downward in a tired way. The girl was thin, and her arms were folded under her chest. Her boobs were not by any means huge, or even as big as Savanna’s, but it was noticeable in the dark that she was not wearing a bra. In middle school, I remember talking to Savanna and her telling me for some reason about how it was normal for girls not to sleep in bras. Now that I think about it, Savanna was only twelve and probably just trying to sound mature, and inform me that she wore a bra.