May 5th, 2006
There are only eight days left of classes before my freshman year draws to a close.
All across campus students ignore the coming of final exams, choosing instead to toss frisbees or footballs on the Lawn and enjoy the warmer nights. And tonight, I'm going out to dinner on Church Street.
"You can stop fussing, you look great," Sabrina remarks over her shoulder.
I check my skirt for wrinkles and smooth over my hair for the thousandth time. No matter how I style my wavy locks, I can't seem to get them to obey my wishes. They tumble down to my waist, the warm black contrasting the crisp white and yellow of my smocked, seersucker dress.
"I just don't want any comments about my hair," I complain, shaking out my long waves, which have grown impossibly long over the past nine months. The first thing I'm going do when I'm done with finals is to get a haircut.
"Your mom always comments on your hair," Sabrina laughs, spritzing on a body mist that smells like lavender.
"You're right. I give up," I sigh, dropping my arms to my sides.
My phone clatters on my desk, buzzing with a message. It's a text from Zac.
[Have fun with your fam. Eat some fries for me!]
Smiling, I tap back a response.
[Thanks! I will.]
I whirl around to see Sabrina smacking her lips, which shine a soft, dewy pink. Her freshly-moussed curls bounce around her shoulders, and she looks altogether lovely in a red floral sundress and denim jacket.
"This is silly," I say, giving her a look. "We're way too dressed up. It's just dinner with my family."
"No," she corrects, giving me a small shove towards the door. "It's not just dinner with your family. We're celebrating you tonight!"
"I still don't understand why we need to make a big deal about it," I mumble, stepping out into the hall and heading down the stairs.
"Because, Cassie Yang, you are worth a big deal!" Sabrina grins. "Come on!"
She links her arm into mine once we set foot outside. Our hearts are light and cheery as we walk towards Church Street. Along the way, I notice the lush, new greenery around the Lawn -- pink and purple magnolias, budding dogwoods, and trees finally sprouting canopies of leaves after a long winter.
And what a long winter it was.
I breath deep the clear spring air, feeling a surge of gratitude and amazement. When I set foot onto campus back in August, I did not think my life trajectory would veer. Back then, I was convinced success and happiness came only in very specific containers. But I could not have been more wrong, as this past year has taught me so many more lessons in success and happiness than I could have ever bargained for.
Turns out, some happinesses are won through persistence and believing in yourself.
I suppose I have Aram to thank for grasping this truth. I was already drowning in my own sea of regret before I met him, but it took being with him for me to realize that I didn't want to keep treading water. In a way, his treatment of me gave me the perspective I needed to find my voice and express my needs.
He and I haven't spoken since we broke up, and I'm more than okay with that.
"They're here!" Sabrina exclaims.
I follow the direction of her pointer finger and see three figures in the distance, all with heads of midnight black hair.
My family, I grin.
"Ma! Ba! Lex!" I shout, waving furiously.
We begin walking towards each other, meeting in the middle somewhere between Citron, the local boutique and Ugly Donuts. Lex, having turned fifteen over the winter, is already another inch taller than the last time I saw him.
"Hey, turd," I smirk.
"Hey, fartbreath," he replies.
Lex is dressed in an orange polo with khaki pants. His equally unruly and wavy hair sticks upwards, untamed like mine. His gangly and awkward appearance makes him more endearing to me, and I smile affectionately.
"Thanks for coming," I say.
"Zhen-zhen, ai-yah--" Ma steps forward and attempts to smooth my hair, which has probably become more tangled on our way over from the dorm.
I resist the urge to bat Ma away, letting her fuss to her heart's content. I throw Sabrina a subtle look, and my best friend snorts.
"Are you sure this is where you want to eat tonight, Kai-zhen?" Ba asks, studying the restaurant's saloon-like appearance with skepticism.
"Yes, Baba," I laugh, finally freed from Ma's fingers. "Eddie's Tavern is my favorite place."
"Well then, if it's your favorite," he huffs gallantly. "Only the best for my talented, amazing and beautiful daughter!"
"Oh Mr. Yang, that's just so sweet!" Brina gushes.
Ba preens with her affirmation and stands a little straighter.
"Let's go!" I say, motioning for my family to start walking.
Sabrina skips ahead to chat with Ma and Lex, leaving Ba and I to trail the group. Ba turns to me with a warm smile.
"It's not every day we get to celebrate such an accomplishment from you," he tells me. "I am so proud of you for getting into the music program next year. And with a scholarship! I know you will succeed no matter what. You deserve to be happy."
My heart feels as though it could burst with joy. I beam at my father, overcome with emotion.
"Thanks, Ba," I reply. "I couldn't have done it without you."
His smile is the only validation I'll ever need.
---
"Why is it so damn hot in here?!"
Sabrina bends down and turns the box fan up to the highest setting, which sends our loose study papers flapping around the room. I fan myself idly and take a swig of water.
"I hear the honors upperclassmen dorms also won't have AC," I intone dully. "We'll need a second fan next year."
She swears audibly as she crams herself back at her desk, slapping her headphones over her ears once more. I chuckle at the faint sounds of her strange French pop music and try to return my focus back to my homework.
Now that I'll be a full-fledged music major next year, studying for chemistry doesn't feel as cumbersome anymore. Maybe it's because I no longer feel pressure to ace everything, not that I ever aced anything in chemistry to begin with -- but I've accepted that the best that I can do in the subject is most likely just a passing grade. And with only two more days of classes left in the semester, all that's left for me to worry about is the final exam.
I put my pencil down and peer beyond the window.
The golden hour sun is dazzling and warm, casting a rich, magical light onto everything in its path. I'm struck by a sudden wave of nostalgia. So much has happened on the humble second floor of Swan Hall this year, from the many tears cried to the multiple spontaneous dance parties, countless guitar lessons and heart-to-hearts that took place in this very room. My heart aches just thinking about leaving it all behind.
Is it possible to miss the moments that aren't yet over?
Before I realize it, I'm standing on my feet. I close the textbook I'd been reading and pick up my dorm key. Sabrina quirks her brow at me and pulls one of her headphones away from her ear.
"Going somewhere?" she asks.
"Just gonna take a walk," I smile. "I'll be back."
"Mmk."
Barefoot, I venture beyond our room and walk towards the other end of the hall.
In the last month or so, Zac and I have been able to find a new timbre of friendship -- one where we don't talk about what happened that night with Aram, or about The Before. We've been cordial, respectful of each other's boundaries, and while it's felt good to have him back in my life as a friend, it also feels as though our timeline is ending.
His door is wide open, and he sits with his back to me at his desk, whittling away at some assignment. He's become much more diligent these past few months of school, often working away on homework in his room instead of heading out with friends. It's been a surprising change, considering how intensely he disliked studying back in the fall.
Smiling, I tap the door twice with my knuckles.
"Hey," I say. "Can we talk?"
He leans back in his chair and grins, easy and handsome as ever.
"Hell yes."
He tosses his book onto the desk and joins me in the hall. I lead us down the stairs through the exit closest to his room. We take the side door, stepping out of the building and walking towards the parking lot.
I drop down onto the curb and sit. Zac follows suit, stretching out his long legs and tilting his face towards the light with his eyes closed. We sit together in silence for a while, enjoying the golden warmth of the sun and beholding the vivid colors in the sky.
"I never thanked you for helping me that night," I finally say, keeping my gaze on the orange and pink horizon.
Beside me, Zac is quiet, listening.
"I... I was in over my head with him," I continue. "That relationship was a wreck. I shouldn't have dated him. I don't know what would have happened if you hadn't stepped in like that. Thank you," I say softly. "Thanks for being there for me."
Zac exhales slowly.
"Of course," he responds politely. "It's what friends do."
We are both holding back and we know it. I grit my teeth and tighten my resolve -- one of us needs to take the first step.
It's now or never.
I open my mouth to speak just as he begins to talk at the same time.
"--I'm so sorry for everything."
"--I hated seeing you with him."
Zac and I look awkwardly at each other, chuckling. He shakes his head and extends his palm towards me.
"You first."
Alright, then.
I take a deep breath and start over.
"Zac, I'm so sorry. For everything," I repeat sincerely. "I'm sorry for making things weird between us, for lying to you about Aram, for messing up our friendship--"
"Wait, wait, wait. Stop."
His eyes are honest and kind, and he regards me with a familiarity that's both comforting and sad.
"That's not all on you," he says ruefully. "A lot of things have happened. You can't take all the blame."
"I guess not," I agree with a small smile.
"I hated seeing you with him," Zac murmurs. "You were different around him. And I missed you."
I close my eyes and inhale, my lungs filling with every unspoken thing I wish I had been brave enough to say to him back then.
If I'm not honest with him now, I might not get the chance -- or the guts -- ever again.
"The night we kissed..." I begin, as Zac stills. "Do you ever think about it?"
"Yeah," he admits. "I've thought about it a lot."
I hesitate.
Be honest with him.
"Back then, you said you didn't want things to change between us. But that's exactly what ended up happening. Why didn't you want to be with me?" I ask plainly.
He looks at me, open and unguarded.
"At the time, I didn't give myself the option," he confesses.
"Why?"
He sighs, shifting his legs.
"I felt like I had to pick between you or track. I wasn't in a good place with my grades, as you know. My coaches and teammates were counting on me. I also made some questionable decisions and... I didn't feel like I could measure up for you. Besides, you were my closest friend. I selfishly didn't want that to change," he reveals. "The last relationship I'd been in really messed me up."
"I felt like you played me," I admit quietly. "I felt like I was just another girl who fell for you. I felt so stupid."
I turn to look at him, giving voice to the hurt I've long held inside.
"The kiss may not have been meaningful to you, but it was for me."
"Cass..." his tone is soft and contrite. "I'm sorry. I never meant to make you feel that way. I'm... not proud of my actions last fall. And... you weren't just another girl. The kiss was meaningful to me, too."
I lengthen my legs and lean back on my hands, feeling open and light now that I've spoken my truth.
"You know, I would have jumped off that cliff with you if you had asked," I offer, unafraid to express myself at last.
"That would have been one hell of a jump, wouldn't it?" he chuckles, mirroring me and leaning back onto his elbows.
He glances at me, earnest and cheery.
He's as handsome as ever, but to my surprise my heart no longer skips a beat when he's around. The feelings that used to exist are old and faded like a vintage, sepia-toned photograph. Our paths are slowly branching away from each other, a reality I'm slowly accepting but still makes me somewhat sad.
"I'm moving off-campus next year," he tells me after a beat.
"Really?" I ask, unsurprised.
"Yeah. My friend Kyle and I are renting a house on Charon Avenue next year. On-campus housing is too expensive. I'll still have my track scholarship next year, but I need to save as much as I can if I want to go to grad school."
He pauses. "It's kind of your fault, actually."
I sit up, startled.
"What do you mean?"
"Just all your talk about believing in me last semester," he shrugs. "When I told you I wanted to be a teacher one day, you encouraged me and told me I'd be great at it. I guess you planted a seed. I think if I went on to teach, I'd want to teach at the college-level," he looks up at the sky, where the sun has finally begin to set.
"Wow, Professor Zac Peters," I cluck proudly. "I can see it! You know, students will be lucky to have you!"
I digest this new information. The Zac I knew at the start of the year lacked focus, belief in himself, and direction beyond pole vaulting. He has changed so much in just one short year. And so have I.
"...You know, you were right all along," I say shyly.
He cocks an arrogant eyebrow at me. "I'm right about many things, which are you referring to?"
I roll my eyes and give him a little shove.
"You were right about college being more about than just studying for school," I mutter. "And you were right about me putting too much pressure on myself. And needing to have more fun."
He nods, but not in a smug way.
"You're going to get to live out your dream of going to music school, after all," he says. "Just here at Copper Hill instead of Eastman."
"Yeah," I beam.
"Looks like we are both on our way to new things," he smiles.
We watch as the last sliver of light disappears behind the tree line, relishing the moment. The setting sun is both beautiful and brutal, reminding me that all of life is a cycle of coming and passing seasons.
Just like how this season with Zac is passing, too.
"If you could turn back time," he says suddenly, breaking the silence, "and do this year over again, would you change anything?"
I consider his question carefully before responding.
"No," I reply, surprising myself. "I don't think I'd be where I am today if things were different." I smile and glance at him. "Even the hard parts. What about you? Would you change the past if you could?"
Zac doesn't respond right away, instead taking time to ponder.
"Nah" he eventually says. "I don't think I would, either."
The moon begins to rise and the faint outline of stars become visible in the purple twilight sky. We sit side by side, admiring the changing heavens, letting the silence between us be an acknowledgement of how we are both evolving and moving on.
I breathe deep the cool night air, content and finally at peace.
---
Final exams descend swiftly, sweeping everyone into a frenzy of tandem studying and packing.
With each passing day, people haul suitcases and laundry baskets full of appliances down the hall stairs after their last exam, excited for summer break to begin. Those of us with tests scheduled on Friday eye our departing friends enviously, anxious for our turn to go home.
Our neighbors from the past nine months exit the second floor one by one. Morgan and Jenna are among the first to go, followed soon after by Kevin, Mohan, Dev, Carissa and Noah. Some people leave without saying goodbye, like Taryn and Eric. But by late Thursday night, our numbers dwindle down, and only ten of us are left.
Close to midnight, Tim the RA is hard at work tearing down the decorations and name tags that have hung around the second floor all year long.
"I can't believe it's over," Sabrina remarks to me as we watch Tim rip down the banner containing all of our birthdays.
"Me either," I concur.
Sabrina moves away from the door, yawning.
"My dad will be here around eleven tomorrow morning after my French final," she tells me, grabbing her shower tote.
"Lucky you. I can't get picked up until one o'clock," I glower as she heads for the bathrooms.
I shut the door after her and glance around the room. Most of my things are already packed -- my drawers are emptied into moving boxes, and my copious study notes from chemistry have been taken down from the walls. A few things remain, like my desk lamp and bed sheets, and one last photo tacked onto the cork board.
Stepping forward, I gently remove the picture of me and Ba with our browned faces and place it on my desk. He and I should take a new photo so that I'll be able to have an updated one to hang in my dorm next year.
I keep his photo next to me for luck as I review my notes for chemistry one last time.
---
"The furniture and microwave are all loaded. So, it's just the mini fridge then?"
Mr. McKee's rounded belly juts out as he assesses the near-empty room. Sabrina stands next to her father, the two of them mirror images with clear, gray-blue eyes.
"Yes Daddy," she smiles sweetly.
"Why don't I bring the fridge down to the truck, and you come down when you're ready, Pumpkin?" Mr. McKee suggests, moving to lift the little fridge.
"Okay Daddy. I won't take long," Sabrina nods.
Mr. McKee grunts and heaves the fridge out of the room. As he disappears from view, Sabrina whistles.
"So..." she says, surveying the barren room.
"That's that," I finish.
Our bunks are bare and the dorm furniture is returned to its original state. Our desks are cleared, and the many posters, pictures, notes and personal touches have been removed from the cinderblock walls. The only things that remain are my belongings, which are gathered in a small pile by the door, and my guitar case.
"Hey, don't look so sad," Sabrina grins, nudging me in the shoulder. "We'll be back before you know it!"
"Nothing will ever be like the second floor of Swan Hall," I say stubbornly, feeling emotional.
"Let the past stay in the past," she says sagely. "Your future is bright! Especially since you get to spend your whole summer with moi."
"Yeah, because trying to keep a herd of children alive while roasting in the hot ass sun every day is somehow fun," I reply sarcastically.
"Cassie Yang! When did you start swearing?" she teases. "You're right. We might be crazy for applying to be outdoor day camp counselors this summer. But there's no one else I'd want to be crazy with besides you."
"Ditto," I grin.
She slings her backpack over her shoulder and hefts a laundry tote into her arms.
"Call me when you're home and free to hang, okay?" she says, walking backwards out the door. "See you soon!"
"I will. Bye, Brina."
Our dorm room feels impersonal and foreign once Sabrina leaves. I sit down at my desk, feeling raw and bittersweet.
College is a funny thing.
Everyone tells you that college is important, life-changing, and the best four years of your life. They say that a college education will give you what you need for success in your future career. But no one tells you that you'll get much more than you bargained for, that the most important lessons you learn have nothing to do with what gets taught in a classroom and everything to do with the people you meet.
Because what we take away is more than just a degree.
Sometimes, we take away a standing ovation at a dorm talent night, or a bombed chemistry test. We take away newly learned guitar skills, a stolen bachata dance, or a breathless first kiss. We take someone's heart only to break it, and maybe we unknowingly take away their sense of control. And sometimes, we take chance auditions and the risk to say exactly how we feel because we finally understand that maybe life's too short to pretend to be something we aren't.
In the end, it's worth it.
---
My footsteps echo up the stairs as I walk back to my room one last time.
I've loaded almost all of my belongings into Ma's van, which waits downstairs by the curb. Nearly everyone on the second floor has gone. Summer break is officially here.
I place my hand over the engraved number on our door as I enter and smile. A humid breeze wafts into the room from the opened window. I came upstairs to fetch my guitar, the lone item left. I swing the guitar case over my shoulder and look longingly around my room one last time.
Thanks for the memories, #219.
Whirling around, I step out into the hallway. A figure emerges at the opposite end of the corridor at the same time.
Zac.
His Aviators are perched on his head, and a large duffel bag is slung over his shoulder. I shift the guitar case on my back and continue walking.
He and I have already exchanged all the words we have to say to each other, and we are heading in opposite ways. His smile is wide as we meet in the middle of the hallway. He raises his palm, an open invitation. I lift my hand to his and give him a high five.
He keeps walking, and so do I.
I smile when I see Ma's green van waiting for me by the curb. I climb into the front seat, positioning the guitar between my legs.
"Let's go home," I say happily.
I don't look behind as we drive away from Swan Hall. Instead, I bottle up all the moments I've taken from this past year and keep them safe in my heart, like a librarian charged with humankind's greatest secrets.
Because one day, I'll want to revisit this chapter of my life again. And when I do, I want to remember everything -- especially the boy who lived down the hall.