Chapter 8
I Miss You
Drew and I managed to drive the thousand miles to the Gulf side of Florida without incident. I couldn’t help but feel sorrow with each mile that passed between Joshua and me.
“Man, you’re right by the beach,” Drew commented when we pulled into the parking lot outside Zeta complex. My five-year-old sedan looked out of place next to all the convertibles and Jeeps.
“Wait till you see my view.”
Drew took in the mix of off-beat people around us—Zeta’s appeal was that it not hippy Kappa and not trust-fund Omega like Lizzie’s dorm, nor any of the other stereotypical complexes on campus. Each complex consisted of four dorms arranged in an elongated diamond—two dorms on each side with a lounge and computer lab in the middle. Since Eckhart didn’t allow sororities and fraternities, the complexes were the closest thing to a Greek system E-C had. The first year I’d lived in a substance-free, all girls dorm in “Alpha-Lame” aptly nicknamed the Virgin Vault; its only plus was that Jane lived above me. After my roommate transferred schools at the end of freshman year, Jane and I decided to room together and ended up in Epsilon the first semester of our sophomore year. I chose the complex solely because I saw a great-looking guy sign up for it right before our turn in the dorm lottery. But it turned out to be full of soccer jocks, both male and female. Jane and I jumped at the chance to move mid-year, even if it was to preppy Gamma. Jane finally convinced me to move to Zeta our junior year, where I finally felt somewhat comfortable.
Drew waited in the hall while I went to find my male RA upstairs. I vaguely knew him as one of the many who dropped marine biology as their major our freshmen year. We went through the rigmarole of signing out keys until finally Drew and I were in my room. I immediately went to the window and pulled back the plastic vertical blinds. “See?” The huge, modern expanse of the Sunshine Skyway was perfectly framed in my window. As it was getting dark outside, the bridge was back-lit, the cable stays stretching like glowing rays above the endless Gulf.
Between the bridge and my dorm was a small pond. “During the day there’s all kinds of native birds that hang out at the pond,” I told Drew.
“Man. Maybe I should come here and not stay in state.”
“No,” I quickly replied. “You’d hate it here.”
“Yeah. Mom and Dad thought you’d hightail it home after your freshman year.”
“I almost did. It was a hard year. We got really sucky classes the first couple of semesters because the school tries to get all the wanna-be dolphin trainers to drop science as their major as soon as possible.”
“It did get better though, didn’t it?”
I sat on the edge of the plastic bed. “Sort of.” Now that I was a senior and still in the marine biology program, I inwardly felt superior over the rest of my classmates. I still felt out of place most of the time, but I’d always had Jane. And Lizzie.
“You hungry?” I asked my brother.
“Famished.”
“Let’s go see if Jane’s here yet and then we’ll make a run to Taco Bell.” I hadn’t told Jane about the last-minute car detail. I knew she’d be excited. Lizzie brought her car sophomore year, but when she was away for a semester abroad, Jane and I had to get really creative in order to get off campus, bumming rides off people we barely knew. E-C started a special with a cab company to prevent people from driving drunk: under-aged, we’d get the cab to drop us off at a beachside bar and then spend the day soaking up the rays and waves.
“He’s cute,” Jane whispered into my ear after meeting my brother.
“He’s seventeen,” I replied.
“Legal in some states.”
She invited us into her dorm room, which was already set up. My heart stung a bit when I saw the familiar LED lights and comforter. We’d been inseparable for the past three years, and now there was a whole complex courtyard between us.
“How long have you been here?” I asked Jane.
“A couple of days. Too long already.”
“Seen anyone else?”
“If by anyone else you mean Lizzie, she’s not here yet. But I did hear that my Western Heritage professor is going to be teaching my QFM class.”
QFM stood for Quest For Meaning. Eckhart’s class catalog included a few courses required for graduation. One was Western Heritage, which all freshmen were forced to take. My Heritage class, like most others, was full of jerks. But at least I’d never hooked up with any of them. QFM was the requirement for seniors: it examined all world religions and included mandatory volunteer hours.
After dinner we went back to Jane’s room as mine was barren—most of my belongings were still at a storage center.
“You drink?” I asked my brother as Jane passed him a beer.
“Duh.”
“Mom and Dad know?”
Drew shrugged. “Corrie does. She’s bought me a few cases for parties.”
I waved my hand. “If Corrie knows then everyone knows. I just can’t believe my little brother’s imbibing.”
“A lot of people at my high school do,” Drew replied.
“A lot of people at every high school do,” Jane added.
“I never did,” I said, sitting back on Jane’s bed.
“We know.” Jane poured herself another glass from the box of wine in her mini-fridge.
“Shit, what time is it?” I asked.
Jane glanced at her desk clock. “Nine.”
“I gotta go. I’ll be back… eventually. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” I hopped up from my spot on the floor and hurried out of the room.
“That’s not too hard!” Jane called before the door shut.
I realized I hadn’t told her about Joshua. Or the fact I was no longer a card-holding member of the V-club. I was waiting until a time when my brother was NOT in the room to do that.
I counted three rings before Joshua picked up. As soon as he said hello—his voice sounding tinny and far away—I burst into tears.
“Baby, I miss you so much,” I managed to gasp out before my throat closed again. Did I really just use “Baby” as a term of endearment?
“Tammy,” Joshua breathed. “Me too.”
When I managed to gather myself together, we made the usual casual conversation. Embarrassed by my earlier outburst, I told him about our drive down and my room.
“I can’t wait to see it,” Joshua said.
I looked out toward the Sunshine Skyway, now surrounded by black water. Cars crawled across it like glow-in-the-dark ants. “I can’t wait either.”
“I wish we could stay on the phone all night and just listen to each other breathe.”
“Me too,” I pushed the thought of how much this long-distance call was going to cost me out of my head.
“I guess we’d better go,” Joshua continued.
“I guess so.”
“Oh, and Tammy?”
“Yes?”
“I like my new nickname.”
I guess Baby it is. “Love you,” I told him, feeling my face grow hot.
“I love you, too.”
As I trudged back to Jane’s room, I mused over the upcoming weeks when Joshua and I would be apart.
“I have to get a calling card,” I announced to the room when I entered.
Drew and Jane had playing cards spanned in front of them. There was a newcomer in the room. He was thin, with a dark complexion and glasses. I recognized his from a few of my science classes last year.
“This is Nishaan,” Jane said. “He’s from Sri Lanka. He lives upstairs. He’s also one of them.”
He nodded at me. “Dolphins?”
“No. Sharks.”
“Me too. You taking Shu’s class this semester?”
“Yes,” I told him as I settled on the floor. Dr. Shu was teaching Elasmobranchology: the study of sharks. I was excited to finally get into the nitty-gritty of my major, and learn what I’d come all this way to learn.
“Me too.”
Drew gave me a funny look as I wiped my eye. Some of my mascara came off. “Be right back.”
“You breaking the seal already?” Jane asked.
“The seal’s long been broken,” I told her. She opened her eyes wide as I nodded emphatically. She raised the cards in her hand to cover up her smirk.
We played cards long into the night. Drew and I stumbled back to my dorm room after midnight and fell asleep in our old sleeping bags; him on the floor and me on the uncovered bed.
The next morning Drew and I made a couple of runs to my storage room.
“How are you going to fit all this stuff in that tiny room?” Drew asked, eyeing the nearly full storage locker.
“You’d be surprised.” The stash included a foam loveseat, bookshelf, and wire cosmetics rack.
Drew was nice enough to reassemble my furniture as I went to registration. The only line that was short was the financial aid one. I signed the requisite papers and then headed to the bookstore, putting the mandatory books on my credit card. QFM required at least eight paperbacks, including a copy of the Bible and the Quran.
I flung myself lengthwise on the foam loveseat when I got back.
“You can’t rest for too long,” Drew reminded me. “I’ve got to be at the airport in half an hour.”
“St. Pete’s a small airport,” I told him. “It’s not like Tampa, where you have to be there hours before your flight.”
“Whatever.”
I sat up, finally noticing how tastefully decorated my room was. It rivaled Jane’s for accouterments. “You found my lights.”
“Yeah. I thought the flamingo lights would go better over your closet, and left your window clear. I think the view will speak for itself.”
“Wow, thank you.”
I passed out for twenty minutes or so before Drew shook me awake. At the airport, we gave each other a brief hug.
“I know Mom’s worried about how you’re doing at school. I’ll tell her you’ll be fine.”
“Thanks, Drew.” And somehow, I knew that he was right: I was going to be fine.
Drew had forgotten one important detail. I dug through a box from home and found a framed picture of junior high Kellen and me dressed up for a Star Wars convention. I replaced it with a picture of Joshua and me and set it on my nightstand after I’d hung up with him that night.
My first class was QFM. It was in the new building on the north side of campus. Most of my classes had always been on the east side, another plus for Zeta complex as it was located off the circle drive that housed the other complexes. I woke up late and decided to drive. Of course, by the time I found a parking spot, I might as well have walked. I was still a few minutes early and hung around outside the room. The other students, also hovering outside, were not anyone from Heritage. I nodded at one guy I knew from the paper and another girl that was friends with one of Jane’s friends. E-C was such a small school, I could count on knowing a handful of people in any class. As people started filtering into the classroom, I followed suit and sat near a guy I knew from my Spanish class sophomore year. As I looked around the room determining who else I knew, I caught sight of a billowing shirt. The new guy walking in, almost late, was none other than the Horse, of course.
It figured—my psycho guardian angel had struck again. I hadn’t spoken directly to Dallas in three years, not since our freshman year, a year so tumultuous in part due to him. “Oh, god. Please don’t let him sit near me!” I could feel my body tense up as he strolled toward my seat. But then he caught sight of me, and, after a classic double take that I would have paid money to see again, he quickly turned and galloped toward the other side of the room. Thank god.
I shuffled some papers on my desk, reminding myself that I had Joshua. Far away though Joshua was, he provided enough consolation that I could remove my blinders and see for the first time who Dallas really was. As our opening discussion took us into a deliberation over the amount of toxins in red meat and fish, Dallas confided to the room that he ate, “Nothing but ice cream. You can’t get cancer from eating ice cream only, can you?”
“Maybe not,” the guy from the paper said, “but I’d worry about the all those hormones they’re pumping into the cows.” My first thought was that maybe if the hormones gave him boobs, he could fill out those giant button-down shirts a little better. My second thought was, “Dallas, a diet of ice cream? What the hell is wrong with you?”
I hurriedly gathered my books at the end of class so I could beat Dallas out the door. It was a pleasant day, not the typical hundred degrees you’d expect in Florida in August. Nishaan was outside my next class.
“Did your brother get home okay?” he asked.
“Yeah. He’s back at school today, too.” We walked inside during our casual conversation, naturally resulting in our taking seats next to each other. In my four years at E-C, I’d never really had anyone regular to sit next to. It was an unspoken rule since eventually we’d all be competing for the same rare and low-paying jobs when we graduated. Nishaan didn’t seem to mind and told me how he’d once gone SCUBA-diving with whale sharks.
“No way!” I exclaimed. “That’s so cool. I’ve never even seen a shark, let alone the biggest one there is.”
“You can,” Dr. Shu said, overhearing our conversation. “I need a few volunteers to count bonnetheads in the lagoon next week. You in?”
Nishaan and I both affirmed. He caught me looking at him and took off his glasses to wipe them on his shirt. It turned out he was taking organic chemistry, my next class, as well, and we headed back to the main part of campus together.
“How long have you known Jane?” he asked.
“Since pretty much the first day of college,” I replied.
He nodded, pushing his glasses back up his nose.
“Are you an exchange student?”
He blanched physically. “No, a transfer.”
“Sorry,” I mumbled. “I didn’t mean to offend you.”
“No, it’s cool. I was here last year too.”
“Yeah, I’ve seen you around.”
“You see everyone around here.”
“You get used to it. It’s always the ones you don’t want to see that you run into.” I almost confided to him about my earlier Dallas-encounter, but decided we didn’t know each other well enough for that.
The highlight of my day was when I went to my paper meeting. Our school paper was called “The Neptune,” and the past couple of years I’d written a few articles. Last year I’d written an article about the recycling program—or rather, the lack thereof—and the editor, deciding it was too opinionated, had stuck it in the column section under the heading, “Tammy’s Times,” a play on my last name.
“How would you like to be a regular columnist this year?” the editor asked me.
I shrugged. “Okay.”
“Hey Tammy,” the guy from QFM called out. “What about that ice cream asshole? What a moron.”
I smiled in spite of myself. “Dallas? He’s not that bad.”
He shook his head. “If you say so.”
When I finally got the opportunity to spill my story to my best friends, Jane and Lizzie, they couldn’t believe I’d actually found love.
“Joshua is the only guy ever in my life that never gave up on me,” I gushed at a bar one night. “He was never willing to let me push him away. And he loved me enough to put up with all my bullshit.”
Jane rolled her eyes. “It’s not bullshit, Tammy. You are who you are. I’ve always accepted it. Even if I’m not totally convinced you’re the ‘girlfriend’ type.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked.
“It’s just that as long as she’s known you, you’ve never had a boyfriend,” Lizzie filled in.
“Don’t get me wrong,” Jane continued. “You’re still my best friend, and I’m over the moon that you finally found a guy who sees what I see. I just don’t know if you’re ready for a commitment. I’ve always felt that way, and never understood your crazy quests for love.”
Already a few drinks into a Friday night, I could feel my eyes water. Jane had never been the emotional type. I decided to ignore her comment about not being able to handle a serious boyfriend and accept her compliment at face value. “Thanks.”
Jane refilled my wine glass. “You still have to go out with Lizzie and I on the weekends, though.”
It was over those weeks we were apart that I realized how much I truly loved Joshua. I was awkward around him at camp and around my family because I was self-conscious—afraid Joshua would see through the facade I had erected of being one of the “cool” girls. I couldn’t belie my inexperience, which translated into my coming off as aloof. But the phone conversations every night, when we were a thousand miles away, those were the easy parts. I let him see my vulnerability. I could tell him everything, because I didn’t have to look into his bi-colored eyes and be vulnerable. He was there for me, every night, on the other end of the telephone line. We’d talk of how it would be when we were finally together. I called him Baby and told him I loved him with all my heart.
We talked about the beginnings of our relationship. He told me he thought I was cute from the first time he saw me. “But,” he said, “I figured you probably had a boyfriend. What’s wrong with those E-C guys? Are they stupid?” Although I couldn’t truthfully return the compliment—he was only on three hours of sleep when I first saw him—I replied that I first realized how cute he was that night in the cabin when I discovered he had two different colored eyes. He’d snuck up on me while I was crushing on Ahrun, and I finally gave up the fight. I’d finally lost my “Love Sucks” mentality.
At school, I’d continuously talked about “my boyfriend.” I’d bring him up randomly in my QFM class, the class I shared with Dallas. I’d even mention the name Joshua Buckingham in my columns. The people I worked with in the campus mailroom all knew of him, and anytime a letter came from Michigan, they’d pass it on right away. I sent packages to him containing the essentials—lollipops and Jolly Ranchers—nearly every week.
The time between the start of classes and Joshua’s arrival seemed an eternity. During the day, obviously, I’d be in class; afterward, I usually return to my dorm room and take a nap, and then go for a jog around campus. Jogging (well, walking fast) was a relief from the monotony that was my day. After the first couple of slip-ups, I never failed to be ready at nine on the dot to call him, and he never failed to be there, waiting by the mess hall in the increasingly cold weather—and sometimes rain—to answer. I racked up a ton of credit card bills paying for calling cards from Walgreens as we’d talk for at least an hour every night.
I was only one time into not being a virgin, but Joshua made it pretty clear that he and I would be continuing our sexual relationship when he came to visit. After we hung up the phone one night, I pulled out a calendar. I’d gotten my period right after I’d arrived at school, so I wasn’t worried about that. I counted the days nervously. Phew. I wouldn’t have my period when he was here. I made an appointment at the Health Center a few days before Fall Break, not realizing that you were supposed to be on birth control pills a month before they’d take full effect. Oh well, I thought when I read the directions. It’s not like we were ready to forgo using condoms, anyway. I slid a small pill out of the foil packet and popped it into my mouth.