|
The College Years (Chapter 12)
By Vader
THE COLLEGE YEARS
Entry II: A Student Who Loved Me
Continued from Chapter 11 . . .
CHAPTER 12
I remembered her sparkling brown hair that, in the sunlight, shimmered is if it were gold.
I remembered her soft skin that was as silky as a rose pedal.
I remembered her eyes that served as a lens into a new, thrilling, nirvana.
I remembered her smile that made you feel excited and at ease at once.
I remembered how she would always be there for me every day, how she would always comfort me, how she was the sole and most important human being in my life.
I remembered all this as I folded my napkin at the dinner table into several formations, sinking into the beginning of a slight depression, as the words Luke had uttered earlier kept streaking through the byways of my brain: “Sound’s like she doesn’t feel the same way you do.”
The strong smells of delicious food entered my nostrils, but never registered. I had no appetite whatsoever, and could not stop thinking about the past. It was like my mind was hell-bent on never letting go of what used to exist, but now didn’t. And every second my day-dreams ended, they began once more, like a relentless, vicious circle. Over the summer, I had been so sure Rachel truly, deeply, cared for me as much as I loved her. But know, doubt constantly slithered its way into my thoughts.
“Dex!” came the high pitched, screechy sound of my grandmother, who sat at the other end of the table near her husband and my own parents. They had been partaking of the scrumptious meal my mother prepared for having a get-together, consisting of everything from roast lamb to green beans, from corn to potatoes, from salads to ice cream for desert. “Tell them the story about that one time in Hawaii, Dex!” she called, not realizing how loud she sounded due to her hearing aids having been broken the night before.
“Well . . .” my grandfather started off slowly, adjusting his glasses, rubbing his hands together and then comfortably resting them on his oversized stomach. “When I was in the Navy . . . in about nineteen . . . forty-one? Forty two? Forty three?” He paused for a moment, scratching his ear and letting his jaw hang open, staring into space to try and recollect his thoughts. “Anyway, it took place somewhere in there. And it was a very blustery day, but not too chilly. The weather isn’t too bad in Hawaii you know. And so . . . me and my chums Ronny – that’s what we called him for short; his real name was Ronald – and Black Jack - who we also called Jinx, since he always seemed to get into to trouble – hopped in our old, yellow-colored Lemon and started the engine. We rolled up the windows so that it would be a bit warmer inside, and I took the breaks off, and we went rolling along down a dirt road that led out of the bunkers. We passed by several palm trees that were swaying quite peaceful-”
“I’ll give you the short version!” my grandmother butted-in suddenly. “He got two suppositories stuck up his ass by a navy nurse!” she emphatically stated with laughter, turning her head to each member of the family to see if they were joining in her amusement or not. While I thought it was more disgusting than hilarious, I did my best to crack a smile and nod my head.
“Addy!” my grandfather roared, clearly disturbed that his endless overuse of description had been broken by his feisty wife. As the two took a few seconds to quarrel, my mother, who also had forced a laugh, leaned over in my direction.
“Jack! Why aren’t you eating anything?” she whispered, a worried look creeping onto her face.
“I don’t feel like it,” I sighed, rubbing my eyelids.
“Well, say something to your grandfather anyway! You’ve been quiet the entire evening!” The defiant attitude that had begun to work its way into my personality with the help of those at college took charge.
“Don’t tell me what to do! I’ll talk whenever I want to!” I spat with annoyance. Perturbed and shocked by my behavior, my mother turned to glare at my father, who in turn grabbed my wrist tightly.
“Don’t talk to us like that,” he grumbled in a low tone, so as to avoid my grandparents’ notice (they were still arguing).
“I’m in college now,” I replied, a tinge of arrogance in my voice.
“You’re still sixteen, and you’re still our son. I want you to be more polite to our guests.” At that, I rose to my feet, picking up my plate and dumping it into the sink, the mix of sadness over Rachel and newfound want for independence moving me to head for my room.
“I’m not feeling well,” I told my grandparents bluntly. “I’m going to bed.”
“You can stay there for the rest of the night!” Dad called after me. As I entered my secluded place and closed the door, I heard the faint sounds of my parents’ apologies for my behavior and my grandmother’s doting. If this had happened months earlier, I would have cared, and probably would have been regretful over what I’d done. But at that point, I was too engulfed in my state of sorrow to be such.
Two hours went by . . . hours that I spent lost in my own interior drama. As the clock on my radio struck ten-o’-clock, I was reminded of the plans I’d made earlier, and suddenly panicked. I hadn’t any spent time whatsoever to figure out a plan of how exactly to get to the club, seeing as how distracted I was. My mind raced to consider all possible options while I paced pack and forth, finally ending my strut next to my window. Upon my peering outside, I got the perfect idea – my bike inside the garage.
Now that my plans were set, I became even more edgy, rubbing my forehead until I conjured the guts to at last sneak out. Grabbing my Old Navy vest from the closet, I unlocked my door and slipped outside, entering a dimly lit house. Apparently, my parents had gone to bed and were fast asleep, and the fact that I would get away with this so easily only put more doubt into my mind, furthering nervousness. Once checking I had my keys with me, I walked down the hallway to exit the back door, quietly locking it behind me.
I was consumed in the darkness outside, staring upwards to see the heavens that were benevolent with stars. Normally, the half-moon was smiling at me, but now, it had the semblance of a frown, as if God were displeased with my actions. Looking back, I can’t blame him.
I entered the garage, hopped on my mountain bike and sped away, jumping the curb and zipping down the street to make a right at the corner. I exited my neighborhood in a matter of minutes, racing through the eucalyptus forests that bordered the park nearby, the cold wind slapping me in the face all the way as my knuckles whitened and my fingertips turned a slight shade of light blue. Taking a shortcut, I skid to a stop at the edge of a hill and made a left, swerving through the countless bushes of chaparral to leap off the edge of a gorge. I flew through the air, adrenaline pumping through my body and bumping to a halt as my tires slammed onto the pavement of the road below.
After following the trail for a good fifteen minutes, I saw the sparkling Downtown lights looming up above me, representing a world that seemed packed full of diversity – shops, movie-theaters, office buildings, malls, restaurants, and of course . . . dance clubs. At that point, guiltiness began to enter my system, and battled with my will to prove my self-reliance as a college student. In the end, the latter won, and I convinced myself it was too late to turn back anyway. Only a block away, I could now spot Luke on the corner amongst the flashing lights, the bustling crowds, and the streaming music.
I locked my bike onto a parking meter, headed over to meet him, and we both lined up to get inside the club. Once at the entrance, we passed through an ever-shifting spiral of smoke and lasers to enter a totally different world within.
(More to come)
1/12/2003 11:34:18 PM
(Updated: 1/12/2003 11:37:49 PM)
(Updated: 1/13/2003 12:12:33 AM)
(Updated: 1/13/2003 6:47:12 PM)
Comment on this fan fiction!
|
|
|
