Girl by Blake Nelson

Chapter 40

Then I started packing. And getting in fights with my mom. And summer was ending and the days were getting shorter and there was the first feeling of fall in the air. And one day I was coming back from the store and I stopped at Hillside and walked around the buildings which already seemed really dinky and juvenile. And I walked down onto the field where we played soccer in freshman gym class and looked out into the woods where Cybil used to kick the ball. And then I went across the street and had coffee at Taco Time and wrote Marissa Hentoff a letter telling what kind of stereo I had and how I was pro-choice and into shutting down nuclear power plants and had she ever heard of Color Green?

And the day before I flew I tried to wash all my jeans one more time and my mom was yelling at me and my dad was yelling at my mom and I felt so sick I could hardly eat. And I wore my bathrobe all day and ran around and looked at myself in the mirror and of course I was getting the hugest zit on my chin. That night I watched TV and talked to Henry on the phone and ran back and forth from the dryer to the washer and upstairs to my suitcases. And between my mom's criticisms and my own fashion insecurity I was bringing probably the most boring wardrobe ever assembled. And I complained to my mom and she said, "What do you think Wellington is? A bunch of juvenile delinquents? Do you think they'll be dressed in thriftstore rags?" And it seemed like she was probably right.

But I brought all my tapes. My Color Green tapes and tapes of Sins of Our Fathers and that one tape of Cybil singing by herself. For my personal mementos I brought Brad's bullet and Todd's guitar pick and some old posters of Thriftstore Apocalypse and K Club and Outer Limits. But besides that I had pretty ordinary stuff. Which was okay. Because since Cybil had left, I had become more mainstream and I sort of enjoyed it. Like talking to Richard, or going to Nathan's party, or just being like a normal person and not trying to be so cool all the time or so shocking. And in a way, I had missed high school, or at least the typical high school experience. Even Hillsider I had come to late and I was never really accepted there. And the next day when my parents drove me to the airport, I was looking out the window and thinking that Wellington would be my second chance. It would be my chance to start over. I'd have four years to develop a normal social life and be a real person and do all the things a regular person would do.

We got to the airport. We checked my bags and walked around. Then we had coffee in the little espresso place and there was a boy at the next table who was obviously going back east to college. He had a short haircut and penny loafers and lots of zits. And I was watching him and thinking how fun college was going to be and how I should befriend Marissa and try to at least understand politics and be as intelligent as I could. And I guess my mom was reading my mind because she was looking at me with so much pride.

Then we went to the gate. And then the doors opened and people started going in. I said good-bye to my parents and gave them each a hug and my mom started to cry. And I slung my pack over my shoulder and my mom dabbed her eyes and I kissed them both again and got on the plane. And as I sat in my seat waiting for takeoff I felt so inspired I wanted to get out a book and start studying right then. And in my mind I could see myself, signing up for classes, talking to professors, getting into literature and art, and maybe working on the school paper. And then winter would come and it would snow and I would meet Marissa for hot chocolate and we would discuss issues and sexual politics and we'd plan rallies to shut down nuclear power plants. And I would be dressed like everybody else and learn- ing so much and making friends and being right in the thick of college life . . . But of course that's not what happened. Not even close.