The entrance gate to the garden is kind of awe-inspiring; it has a pagoda on top that kind of looms; to me it looked a little top heavy. It was misting and kind of foggy, so the light of the sun was muted and it was atmospheric. Not many people had come out to enjoy the garden, so it was also serene and peaceful as we walked along the path we'd chosen at random. It was impressive as all get-out. There was a big statue of Buddha, ponds and streams, and an immense drum bridge. I felt certain that it was just decorative, but John said no, people climb over it all the time. So we did too, standing at the top for a little breather, looking around. It was beautiful and I took a picture. John helped me down the other side--I didn't really need help and he knew it, but it was also very gallant. I'm not really used to people doing things for me.
From there we passed a beautiful waterfall and a bright red five story pagoda during our walk. There was also a gorgeous pavilion by a lake, a stone bridge, wood plank bridges and paths, and all manner of beautiful trees and plants, some in bloom. It was hushed and it felt, for the most part, that we were the only two people in the world. It was cozy and romantic. We talked some, but mostly wandered around in harmony, hand in hand or my hand in the crook of his arm. When they closed for the night, we joined the other people leaving and went to Nopalito for dinner.
"I'm glad you liked the garden," he said after we'd ordered. He took my hand and I got a little giddy. "Golden Gate Park has a lot of really nice places I'd like to take you to. They have a Segway tour I've heard a lot about, several gardens, the Shakespeare garden, a tulip garden with two Dutch windmills, a conservatory of flowers, the carousel, the California Academy of Sciences, an aquarium, there's a skate park, boat park, Strawberry Hill, even a herd of bison."
"I'd like that," I said. Dinner was served more quickly than I'd hoped, actually, but was delicious. Since there was a line of people waiting for a table, we didn't linger, and outside John took my hand again and proposed a walk through the tulip garden. We hopped on the shuttle and John told me some of the sites we were passing, but he hadn't seen everything himself despite growing up in the area. It didn't take long to get to the tulip garden.
We'd missed the peak tulip time this year, but there were still plenty in bloom, drifts of every color in beautifully precise flower beds, lovely lawns, trees everywhere. John told me that there were over a million trees in the park and that the park itself was larger than Central Park in Manhattan. The clouds started to clear as we walked along, hand in hand. "Those look just like the tulips you gave me last year before the elections," I mentioned, spying some lavender and white tulips.
"I'm surprised you remember," he said. "That was awhile ago, lots has happened since then." I gave him a Look.
"That was the first time I've been given a bouquet," I said. "I'm not likely to forget. They were so pretty."
"Well, that was the first time I gave flowers to a girl. So I'm glad they were memorable," he said, and I smiled back at him. "You always look lovely, but tonight you look especially enchanting." He looked at me through his lashes. "I like knowing it's for our date."
"I wanted to look nice for you," I said awkwardly, feeling a blush. We sat on a bench to enjoy the landscape over which one of the massive windmills dominated as the moon rose. He put his arm around me and I snuggled close, putting my head on his shoulder as we enjoyed the peace and beauty of the scene before us. The moonlight leeched the color from the flowers, making them seem otherworldly. He slid his fingers through my hair, and when I looked up at him, he kissed me.
It was a light kiss, just a brush of the lips, but I sat up straight, rubbed my hands briefly to warm them, then drew his head down closer for a more lingering kiss. One of his hands buried itself in my hair and the other rested on the back of my ribs. We kept the kisses light and sweet; we were in public, for one thing, even if we were currently alone, but also I didn't feel the need to rush into anything. This was perfect, this was enough, this was everything.
But despite the warmth I felt inside, it was getting pretty darn chilly, so we got up and headed back for the car, talking about anything that crossed our minds. That was one of the things I liked about him; he was endlessly interesting, and he made me feel like I had opinions that were worth listening to as well.
We pulled up to his house just past ten. "We beat your curfew," I said with satisfaction. "So your mom should be ok the next time we go out." And that was kind of a hint that I would like to go out with him again, hoping he felt the same way.
"Yeah, she likes you, that's not a problem," he said, laughing, then I got out to walk him to the door. "I want to take you back there. I'd like to show you the Shakespeare Garden, maybe ride the carousel, all the fun stuff. But after Worlds, so we can go for the whole day guilt-free."
"That sounds like fun," I said, and at the door, we kissed once more. Oddly enough, Paul didn't pop through the door, though I half expected him to. Then I kind of floated to the car, waving once before I got back in. He smiled before opening the door. The car still smelled slightly of his aftershave.
The next day I did my chores around the condo before going out for lunch with my friends, who were dying to know how the date went. "Who knew John was so romantic?" Cass asked, fanning herself. "Telling you you look gorgeous--"
"I believe the word was enchanting--" Zayna cut in.
"Enchanting, then. Holding your hand, moonlight and flowers, your first kiss." She sighed.
"Porter is coming up short in the romance department," Maya said about her boyfriend after a moment of contemplation and we teased her a little about that. Then the conversation turned, as almost all of them with my friends did, to college acceptances, now just over two weeks away. We fretted a lot, spinning our wheels, because all we could do was wait. The one thing we didn't really talk about was where we wanted to go. Part of that was because it was kind of dangerous to pin your hopes on a specific school, like I was doing with San Diego. The other part was that we agreed not to say anything about which one we chose until we'd all made our decisions and accepted an offer, so as not to influence each other because it would be fun to be on the same campus. We wanted to be sure that each of us chose the one that was best for us. Todd was exempt from this because he was going to skate for the foreseeable future. College, he'd said, would pretty much always be there, but skating had a shelf life. But like my brother and John, he was also going to Worlds the week that the first acceptances were due out. John and I had also agreed to the same thing, long before our date.
It was a weekend of firsts. That night I did a fun, completely voluntary activity with my brother. We went bowling. Neither of us had been in forever, so we googled instructions for how to keep score and gave it our best shot. Which turned out to pretty poor, overall, but we had a really good time, bowling three games and then getting a bite to eat. Our parents looked rather surprised when we came in together and really surprised when we said we'd been bowling.
The next week passed quietly. John was getting nervous for the championship and spent most of his time preparing, but he showed up at the library Thursday night to give me a goodbye kiss, since he was leaving for Sarajevo the next day. One kiss turned into a couple before I had to get back to work. I wished my brother good luck when I got home and there was a hug, slightly awkward because it wasn't something we really did, but heartfelt. The next night I went to the movies with my friends and out to pizza afterward. Things were really getting tense as the days to the release of acceptances dropped into digits you could count with one hand and we needed diversion. I picked up a shift on Saturday and went to Grandpa's for dinner. I found Shuri and Invisible Steve curled up in a ball together on the recliner. So cute.
We talked about his activities and mine--his work was getting interesting and he'd made some friends, including finding people to play racquetball with. I was regretful that drill was pretty much over aside from running tryouts for next year, and I'd been helping the senior class officers plan the big graduation party. It was an annual activity for all graduating seniors, an all-night party the night of graduation. We were working with the Metro seniors for a joint event at the Elks lodge and there would be music and dancing, snacks, casino style games with play money, prizes, a raffle at dawn, a lot of fun. The Elks donated the use of their premises every year for the party and almost everything was donated by local businesses. In the graduation programs would be a list of our sponsors, and school clubs made it a point of patronizing those businesses during the school year as much as possible. Tickets were $5, which everybody could afford. The parents liked it because it was an alcohol-free party and nobody would be driving drunk. If you were caught with any alcohol or illicit substances, the chaperones would call the cops immediately, and nobody wanted that. Grandpa thought that it sounded like a lot of fun and he was pleased that it was a safe environment.
"We haven't had anybody hurt or killed on graduation night for over thirty years, which is how long Central's been having the party," I told him as we ate. "Metro has tried their own party off and on, apparently, but for some reason it never gets traction over there. But we thought it would be fun to have a really big party, especially since so many people have friends over there."
"I thought I'd have a barbeque for you and your friends," he said. "But there won't really be time for that between the graduation ceremony and your party. Would you like to have it the next day?"
"That sounds great, Grandpa," I said, and we grinned at each other. "Thank you."
"You deserve it, punkin," he said. "You've done tremendously well in class, and you've done so much with your activities. I'm really proud of you." That night I texted the invitation to my friends and got back prompt responses confirming attendance. John was less prompt, but he was pretty busy, far away, and he was enthusiastic as well. My grandpa was pretty popular with my friends.
Monday crawled by so slow I felt like I was in a war movie, crawling through mud under barbed wire. It was about that fun, too. The bright spot was the men's short program. Both Stan and John performed beautifully, no deductions, and John led by less than half a point. Third place was more than ten points back. Time on Tuesday went so damned slow it might as well have been fixed in concrete and I was grateful for work to distract myself. Mr Tiller was really kind, though, during my independent study and we went over the programs for all six schools again, the pros and cons, the strengths and weaknesses for each one, and I felt reassured that I could get a good start with my education and career at any of my schools. That night I made sure I had browser pages set with log-in information for applicants for all six of my schools even though only two were releasing admissions info the next day: UC-SD and UCLA. It was best to be prepared.
As it happened, although every senior who'd applied to schools in the UC system snuck their phones into each class and the teachers pretended not to notice, the admissions weren't posed until lunch. Noise in the caf swelled as everybody who needed to whipped their phones out and logged in. I was sitting with my friends from drill and most of us seniors got really tense expressions on our faces. "Fuck's sake, everybody, woman up," Kara directed sternly. "The news is going to be the same no matter how long you delay. Ovaries out, my peeps."
I couldn't manage a smile although I wanted to, and, fingers shaking, logged into UC-SD. "Dear Ms Knight," it read. "We regret--" I didn't bother reading any farther and took shallow breaths to hopefully keep myself from bursting out into tears.
"Oh, dear," Kara said, looking at me. "Do you have any more?" I nodded, and she rubbed my back. Wanting to get it over with, I logged onto UCLA. "Dear Delia," the letter read. "Congratulations! It is our great pleasure to offer you admittance to the fall quarter here at UCLA. You have been admitted to the College of Letters and Sciences, Physical Sciences division, with a major in Pre Climate Science."
I felt dizzy and looked around. Theresa looked the way I felt. She was out at Berkley and Davis, in at Irvine. And San Diego. Alison was thrilled, in at Davis. Bets was out at UCLA, in at Berkley and Irvine. "I do not understand college admissions boards," Kara said, shaking her head. "You guys are awesome." I took a moment and emailed Naomi, a girl from drill who I'd met at the Christmas party who was at UCLA, telling her that I'd been accepted and asking her what she really thought of the university. She'd been pretty enthusiastic then. Kara sent a packet of tissues around the table for those of us who were watery and gave us a pep talk. All of us had been accepted somewhere, and most of us had additional applications, both in and out of state, to wait on. God bless Kara. I felt better as I left to get to class. The afternoon teachers took it easy on us seniors and homework was minimal. Mr Tiller was awesome, saying that while San Diego had a fine program, not being accepted there wasn't the end of the world and that there were other programs that would get me launched too.
"Over 113 000 students applied to UCLA this year, and it's one of the most selective universities in the nation," he coached me. "You should be really proud of yourself! The climate science program there is quite new, you'll be in the vanguard of their graduates if you choose to go there, and employers and graduate schools are going to be very interested in just what you can do." And I did feel better, able to concentrate on defending a paper I'd written for my independent study.
Paul caught up with me after school and asked for my results. "How the hell did San Diego reject you? UCLA is a lot better school and more selective and you got in there. Morons." He gave me a hug. "Don't be too upset, General. You're going to have more options, and you're going to go to a really great school."
"Thanks, Paul," I said, feeling grateful. He patted me on the back and I went over to Grandpa's, where he let me cry on his shoulder a bit, then we had a talk about it.
"UCLA is tied for number one for public schools in the nation and tied for 21 overall by US News and World Report," he said, then smiled at me. "University of Michigan is number four and twenty-eight, respectively. And UCLA is about $800 less expensive in terms of tuition and fees," he said, showing me on his laptop. "And you have four more schools to hear back from. So while I know you're upset, don't forget to celebrate what you've got so far. At the bare minimum, you're going to college in August." I felt a lot better after our talk and dinner, and I went home pretty stable.
"So how did you do?" Mom asked when I got in.
"I didn't get accepted at San Diego," I started.
"I told you that you were setting your sights too high," she said on a sigh.
"But--" I tried to rebut this, tell her about UCLA.
Dad shook his head. "Well, you should still be able to get into Santa Clara, they're not nearly as selective. It's not all over, Delia. But even worse case scenario, you could still put in some applications elsewhere." I stared at them in shock as they babbled on about how much of a loser I was. I paraphrase. I turned on my heel, stomped into my bedroom, and threw some stuff into the carry-on bag I'd taken to China. I grabbed my purse on the way out and went back to Grandpa's, cursing the entire short drive over.