Murphy and Me: Sophomore Fall

October: The Homestead, Monster Cookies, El, and "Morephy"

Four days, three practices, and one game later, it was finally Sunday and I was double-checking that, according to my planner, multiple syllabi and whatnot, that I was indeed ahead for once, instead of perpetually catching up.

Which proves miracles can - and sometimes do - happen.

There wasn't anything that needed to come with me, other than Murph, and we needed to get moving. It was roughly a fifty minute drive if I didn't cut over the hills and through the hollow. Going through town was a bit nicer, scenery wise, as it followed the lake from one end to the other, but it added about ten minutes.

Then again, driving no less than sixty got me home - through town - in forty-five minutes. And if my mom needed to get up here quick? She could tackle the distance in half an hour.

Keys in hand, I trotted down the back stairs and pushed open the door to the third floor. There was a cacophony of voices from the lounge, occasionally drowned out by a TV sports announcer. Sounded like Syracuse playin' someone. Murph was leaning against the lounge window, turning his head every now and then to see the screen.

Syracuse scored a touchdown and there were a few "damn it" and "oh, shit" grumbles amidst the cheering.

I twined my fingers with Murph's and watched the replay. A one-handed grab under double cornerback coverage. That was bound to makes SportsCenter later. "Nice."

Murph shrugged. "Everyone has a SportsCenter moment, D-one or D-three."

We were NCAA Division III in all of our sports except for lacrosse – which was Division I – but  if you watched any game, meet, or competition, we went at it like every move was covered by ESPN. It doesn't matter what it's not, we still go hard.

He looked at me, oblivious of our audience - half the lounge was watching the TV, and other the half us. "We goin'?"

"Yup." We waved to the boys - Dev among them - and started for the other stairs. Once in the parking lot, standing by the driver side and looking at my boyfriend over the roof of my beat-up Oldsmobile, it hit me what we were about to do.

Murphy was going to meet my parents. The last boy to do this, three years ago, was Bobby.

"Ollie?"

Bless that boy. "Yeah, Murph?"

"You okay?"

And was that a loaded question or what? "Yup. Just...thinking." Unlocked the car, ignoring the slight shake in my hands, and hoped Fred started first try.

Hallelujah. Two miracles in one day.

Five minutes later we were going fifty-five down the state route with the lake on our left. Murph turned the radio on, navigating the seek button to find something between country and screamo. He found an easy listening station and I relaxed marginally, trying not to think about specifics or what was going to happen in roughly half an hour.

"There's a lot of vineyards out here," he said, looking out the window.

"Yup. There's twenty-eight wineries from one end of the lake to the other on this side." I'd been incredibly bored and tired on the drive one time and had counted. It'd kept me awake.

He looked at me, incredulous. "No."

"Yes." Grinned.

"You've counted?"

"Boredom and falling asleep at the wheel."

Murph chuckled. "You know, I don't think I've been this far south before." He held up his hands. "Before you flay me for that, I've been to New York City and further south, south, but not down into this part of New York."