Chosen (21 page)

I thought back to the kiss.  When our lips met, a totally unfamiliar wave of passion came over me.  I didn’t even know I had it in me.  Something about the situation aroused the latent capacity.  Chris must have felt the same, for when I eventually pulled away, he just stared goofily at me.  I must have looked much the same.  For the first time in my life I had been completely unbridled by extraneous second-guessing and internal self-dialogue.  Even the memory of the kiss warmed me.

Chris was the first boy with whom I felt totally comfortable.  Around him, I was free to be myself.  There was no uncertainty, no anxious anticipation of what to say or what to do.  With him, everything just… flowed.  And if anything, I had been conscious of
his
feelings of uncertainty, and tried my best to assuage them.  This was even before all these new developments… happened.

I skipped off toward my bed.  I was about to fall, carefree, onto the sheets, when I froze.  What happened with Chris, I just realized, put a whole new tangle into my relationship with Liz and the girls.  I wasn’t about to hide what happened.  Then, again, I had a feeling that they would shun me if they ever found out.  And did I really care for Chris, or was it more a spur-of-the-moment thing?  Only time would tell.  No matter what, I needed to have friends here.  The girls would provide that.

Were they the type of people I wanted to be friends with anyway?  I had seen, firsthand, how despicably some of them acted when Liz so obviously needed their help.  Then again… it was
Liz
I was most concerned with.  She was the one who told me I should stay away from Chris.  She was the only one I really felt I knew, so far.  Her friendship – and maybe Madison’s – was the only one that really counted so far.

So, then,  Liz was the one who had warned me about associating with Chris.  Yet, she was the only one I felt I could become friends with.  Though, to be honest, it wasn’t like I had gotten to know the other girls much.  There were two or three of them that seemed like they had potential, but as for the others…

Maybe I was being too quick to judge.  After all, I was basing all this predominantly on their reaction to Liz’s frightening condition the other night.  And she
had
recovered from it with astonishing speed.  Maybe the girls who didn’t want to take her to the clinic had known something I did not.  Maybe they
knew
that the symptoms Liz was exhibiting were much worse than the actual cause.  Was that why Eve was so adamant about not taking Liz anywhere?

Suddenly, I remembered that I had promised Liz I would call her.  I had gotten so carried away by everything that happened with Chris that it had completely slipped my mind.  I took out my phone, and saw that I had a single message from an unknown number:
Call me
.

I could only assume it was Liz.  I dialed the number.  It rang a few times before being picked up.

“…hello?” some guy’s voice answered, and it caught me off guard.

“Oh, uh, I was looking for Liz,” I stumbled.  “Did I get a wrong number?”

“No, this is her phone.  Hold on a sec.”  I heard him yell out her name in the background, quite loudly, before returning to me.  “She’s coming.  Can I ask who’s calling?  You didn’t show up on her caller display.”

“Oh.  Yeah, sure, it’s Tracy.”

“
Tracy
?” the guy repeated.  “Boy, I definitely didn’t expect you.  It’s R—”

I heard muffled static, like the phone had been snatched out of guy’s hand, and Liz came on.  “Hello?” she said breathlessly.

“Hey, it’s Tracy,” I told her.  “Who was that on the phone?”  I was certain it had been Rob.  I mean, his voice sounded totally different, but some people’s did on the phone.  Had he lied to me about not being in a relationship with Liz?

“Oh!  That?  Um, it was a friend of mine.  No biggie.  So what’s up? What took so long?  I’ve been waiting for your call forever.”

“Sorry,” I said.  “I had some things to do.”  I realized if I pushed her to tell me who had answered, she could just as easily demand that I tell her where I’d been, and I didn’t want to have that conversation right now.  “You said you wanted to talk?”

“I do,” she answered.  “But not now.  It’s something we need to discuss in person.”

“Sure,” I said.  “That’s what I think, too.  What did you have in mind?”

“We need to meet as soon as possible.  Tomorrow morning.”  Liz paused, and I heard the guy’s voice in the background, but I couldn’t make out what he said.  “Actually, tomorrow
afternoon
would be better.”

“Fine by me.  When do you want to meet?”

“Let’s say around four.”

“That works.  Where?”  I thought she’d suggest the cafeteria, or one of our dorm rooms, or something.

“By the lake,” she said.

“The lake?” I asked in surprise.  “I didn’t even know there was a lake here.”

“Oh that’s right, you’ve never
be-en
,” Liz said, drawing out the word as if I had committed an inexcusable sin.  “I assume you don’t know where it is, then?”

“Not a clue.”

“Well, it’s not hard to get to, really.  If you walk from the dorms toward the main yard, about a third of the way there, you’ll notice a beaten path on your left that cuts north at an angle.  Just follow it into the forest, and watch for the markings on the trees.  They’re like little orange triangles that were put there to make sure people don’t get lost.  If you go all the way, you’ll come to the lake.”

“Why don’t we just meet somewhere close by?” I asked.  “My room, if you want?”

“No, the lake’s the only place it would work.”   

“The only place what would work?”

“Our meeting.”

I didn’t understand why, but I didn’t want to argue about something so trivial, either.  “Alright.  But why don’t you meet me outside the dorm, then, and we can walk there together?  So I don’t get lost.”

“Don’t worry about that,” she said dismissively.  “And I would, except that I’ll be coming from a totally different direction.”

“And you can’t meet beforehand?”

“Nope.”

“Fine,” I sighed, “the lake it is.  I’ll meet you there at four?”

“Perfect.  See you there.  Bye!”

Before I could say my farewell, Liz had already clicked the phone off.  It sounded like she was in a rush to get back to… whatever she was doing.  I shrugged.  There was nothing I could do about it now.  Tomorrow, at our meeting, I would finally get the answers I had been looking for.

I changed into my sleeping clothes and turned off the light.  It was a clear night outside.  With the blinds open, I could see the twinkle of the stars from my bed.  Somehow, it felt fitting to have their lights shining down on me after the day I had had.  The last thought that drifted through my mind before I fell into a deep sleep was how oddly familiar that twinkle seemed.

I awoke the next day feeling a jolt of panic.  I had dreamt about my old school, and in doing so, realized that I hadn’t even looked at my class schedule
once
since getting here.  For all I knew, I might have already missed a full day of classes and slept through half of them today!

I scrambled out of bed and went straight to my desk, where I had left that envelope containing all the information for new arrivals.  The hardwood floor was cool against my bare feet, but I hardly noticed.  I found the envelope crammed under the weight of my laptop.  Pulling out the information package, I began to flip  through it. 

The fourth piece of paper was the one I needed.  The headline read
Classes and Scheduling
.  I found what I needed, quickly looked at the calendar to check the date, and relaxed.  The first classes would start tomorrow.  That meant I hadn’t missed anything.  Thank god.  It was an odd schedule, I thought, to start in the middle of the week, but I guessed the school gave an extended move-in period for everyone to get settled before the academics began. 

I read the rest of the paper.  Oh!  It said I had to set up my classes online.  That was interesting; I’d never done that before.  And the deadline for picking classes was today at five o’clock.  Good.  That meant I had plenty of time.

I powered on my computer, which booted up quickly, and logged on to the school planning website.  After a short period of struggling with the navigation tools, I discovered that most of my classes had already been prearranged for me.  I snorted – so much for planning.  The only choice I had was between a Monday-Wednesday-Friday rotation of geography and a Tuesday-Thursday rotation of geology.  Both classes fulfilled the same
Earth Sciences
requirement.  But neither of them was particularly appealing to me.  The geology class was a little later in the day, which meant I could grab an extra hour of sleep on Tuesdays and Thursdays.  That made my choice for me. 

I looked at the little clock on the bottom right of the taskbar, and saw that it showed 11:17 am.  The only thing I had to do today was meet with Liz, much later in the day.  Still, it surprised me how long I’d slept.  I had gone to bed at what, around one o’clock?  Back home, I would rise early every single day, even on the weekends.

I guessed the novelty of the school coupled with everything that had happened in the past few days had just worn me out.  I extended my arms in a yawning stretch.  I did feel very much refreshed this morning.

I tapped my fingers on the desk, thinking of what I should do.  I felt a vague sort of hunger.  But the cafeteria seemed so far away, and I didn’t want to trudge over there without showering first.  If they stopped serving lunch at 2:00, I still had a few hours to spare.

 Abruptly, I had a new realization.  This was the first time that I’d turned on my computer since I’d been in the clinic.  I hadn’t checked my email or Facebook for ages.  My email wasn’t actually that important, but Facebook definitely was.  It was how everyone kept in touch back home, as I assumed it was in most places.  Also, I had an immense curiosity about everyone I’d met so far.  What could I discover online about Chris and Rob, Liz and the other girls? Were Rob and Liz dating?  I was sure it had been him on the phone last night.  Not that it should even have mattered to me, after what happened with Chris.  But, I couldn’t shake the desire to know more.  I decided to Facebook stalk them all.

I tapped the URL into the address bar, and waited for the website to load.  The progress bar moved at a painfully slow pace.  Even at home, where cable internet was a novelty for most people, websites loaded faster than this.  I hit refresh, trying to speed up the process

A warning flashed on my screen.  What was this?  I read it aloud: “Access to this site has been forbidden by the network administrator.  If you believe this to be a mistake, please contact the Student Technology Office.”

I frowned.  Was this for every site, or just Facebook?  I typed ‘Google’ into the address bar.  The page loaded perfectly, and quickly.  I put ‘facebook’ into the search, got the results in a flash, and clicked the first link.  Again, the page didn’t load.  Once again, that warning flashed.

There was only one explanation: the administrators here had blocked Facebook.  But why?  I could understand them doing so in the computer labs, for example, where the machines were meant for school use, but blocking it on the entire network?  It was way more authoritarian than I liked.

Quickly, I tried a bunch of other sites: yahoo.com, amazon.com, barnesandnoble.com.  All of them worked perfectly.  It was only when I tried going on Twitter, or MySpace that the message came up again.  So the school had banned all forms of social networking?  It was bizarre, and quite unnerving.

There was nothing I could do about it now.  I would have to tell Kyla, my best friend from back home, about it as soon as I got her on the phone.  I thought about calling her now.  It was the first free moment I’ve had since arriving.  Then I realized that, with the time difference, she would probably be in class at the moment.  Well, what was one more day, anyway?  She and I have gone weeks without speaking a few times, like when her parents took her on those exotic trips to places that absolutely weren’t connected to the outside world.  It’s not like she could be mad at me.  If nothing else, Kyla would definitely be understanding about the mayhem of my first days here.

I decided to shower, and then get myself ready for the first day of class tomorrow. 

Forty minutes later, I emerged from a blissfully warm shower and wrapped a towel around my hair.  I pulled out my second, unpacked piece of luggage, and started taking everything out.  In here were all the homely things I could use to make the room feel nice: a lightly-scented plug-in, a few stuffed animals, some framed photographs of back home, and a bunch of other stuff.  A pack of new binders was also in there.  I laid them out and labeled them according to my class schedule: four for Monday-Wednesday-Friday classes, and three for Tuesday-Thursday classes. 

As I was organizing everything, my thoughts wandered to what classes here would be like.  Were the teachers super-strict, as Chris had insinuated, expecting nothing but perfection?  Or were they more lax, realizing that through the admission process they supposedly had some of the more driven students in the country?  Would I share classes with anybody I’d met so far?  If not, how many other new people would I meet in the coming days?  After a whole summer off, a part of me itched to get back into the swing of things academically.  I felt like I had let my mind lie fallow for far too long, and was excited about being exposed to new concepts and ideas in class.  I had always felt schoolwork was a type of sanctuary from the rest of the world.  I liked the feeling of my brain being challenged and working.  Also, with the start of the school year, I could begin making good on my goal of getting into one of the Ivy League universities, much like my dad did nearly two decades ago.