Waking up the first day of a new semester is nearly impossible. The sheer anxiety of being a step closer to graduation and finally being set free to begin sculpting the essence of my entire life is enough to catapult me into a depression. At the same time, I feel anticipation, of course, I am excited to be a graduate, and I do feel a sense of accomplishment from making the Deans List my freshman year. I just can't get over the sinking suspicion that I am not heading in the right direction. Haven't I always dreamt of being a journalist? Having the power over someone to gently suck out information and leave them wondering, "How the hell did she get me to voice my deepets, darkest secrets?" I do. It's what I want. I just have to stop second guessing myself. Realizing it's just first day jitters, I lightly smack my own cheek in a 'get up and get over it' gesture, and head wearily to the showers in my dorm.
"Sookie, hey! Sookie, slow down girl…" My good friend Amelia calls, scooting awkwardly in her wolf slippers across the cold linoleum of our dormitory hallway.
"Amelia, don't you dare touch me, I haven't had coffee yet and I cannot promise I won't smack you if you electrocute me right now with your psycho static hand!" I laughed but still turned around with my hands up in the international gesture for 'back the fuck off'.
"We can get coffee on the way to class," she assures me, "Hey what are you wearing first day back? I got the greatest dress on sale at Macy's! How was the trip home? Did you tell Jason 'helloo' for me?" She wags her eyebrows and licks her lips. Jason, my older, better looking, but far less intellectual brother, is somewhat of an obsession to my best girl friend. I will never understand how someone of Amelia's caliber could entertain such notions that a man who cracks into concrete for a living would be a good mate.
I finally approach the door to the communal bathroom, and turn to Amelia, exasperated, yet gentle. Sometimes I feel like I am humoring a middle schooler with a first crush.
"Amelia, darling, BFF, sister from another mister," I begin teasingly as she looks at me with her best pleading face, "Jason says hello as well, I do not care what I wear on my first day of school anymore as I am here to learn and complete a degree, not impress my peers with fashion forwardness or cleavage. My trip was daunting, yet it did feel good to be home, and finally, why the hell are you following me to the showers?"
She isn't completely satisfied with my rant, but it does for now apparently because she turns around to shuffle back the way she came.
"God, you are such a bitch pre-shower and caffeine! I'll talk to you after you get ready; meet me at Beans in an hour, okay?" She's practically shouting the last part as the distance grows. I turn back to the bathroom door and sigh. Finally, I begin my day.
Meeting up at Beans, the little café smack dab in the middle of campus is a ritual of sorts for Amelia and I. Often times her brother, Sam, will meet with us as well. Sam has a bit of a thing for me, but he really feels like a brother, so I have always pushed his gentle advances away before he has a chance to even try. This morning is no exception.
"Hey gorgeous face! Damn Sookie, you don't even try that hard and yet, as always, you astound me with your beauty." Sam says in an attempt to sweep me off my feet, I'm sure.
"Thanks buddy, you look pretty dapper yourself." He did look pretty good, in a pair of dark wash jeans and a sweater vest. "You finally did something about that grunge look that should have been left behind in the ninth grade, I am proud of ya' dude," The more I insult him the more he swoons. Figures.
"Aw Sook, I knew you'd finally realize how attracted you are to me, I…"
"Shove it brother, drink your damned coffee and leave Sookie alone, she's in a bitch-from-hell mood today, and I don't need you to fuel her flames," Amelia chimes in before things get awkward. What are friends for? Wait, did she just call me a bitch from hell? I'll let it slide since she came to my rescue.
"Okay guys, let's just drink our coffee and discuss our schedules. I need to feel like we're accomplishing something; it'll get me in the mood to learn. I have English 102 at 9:30 and Political Science with Professor Lambert at 11:30. Amelia, do you have a break at around 1? We can meet for lunch?"
"Well," she begins, "I have Art 120 at 11:30, but I also have a Math class across campus right after—we can meet up and you can walk me there since it's on or way to the dorm?"
"Okay, deal," I confirm. I take the last sip of my extremely strong coffee and stand up to collect my bags. "I have to move it ya'll, I need to stop at the Student Center before class to make a tuition payment."
I say my goodbyes, and head off across the lawn. LeClerc University is a sprawling campus ripe with lush sod blanketing the flat land. Among that, like a curvy maze in an aerial perspective, lie the cobblestone walkways reminiscent of the historical south. The sweet scent of honeysuckle and magnolia permeates the magnificent expanse of the college grounds. Walking to and from class is my favorite part of the day, and today, is no exception. It's good to be back.
The Student Center was bustling—heavy with pungent perfumes, and heady with first day nerves and sweat. I make it ever so swiftly to the line at the payment counter. In my peripheral, I spot a short kid, with a giant back pack heading toward me. He had the brightest red hair I have ever seen and t-shirt to match. I look directly ahead to avoid him and take a step up as the line moves forward. That step happened to send me crashing to the ground.
Waking up—what must have been only a minute later—I feel as though a ton of bricks just fell off the roof and landed square on my jaw. My purse, lying about a foot in front of me had been spilled of all its contents. I see a lonely lip gloss and a matchbook from a bar I liked in Shreveport. I notice my tiny red cell phone and a squashed bottle of Victoria Secret hand lotion. Then, I noticed the pink contents of said lotion everywhere.
"Hey, are you okay? Stupid kid just barreled right over you! I started to catch the little bastard but no one was coming to your aid so… I chose you,"
Hovering above me was a halo cast from the high ceiling windows, shining around the most beautiful face I have ever seen. And an accent, ever it be so slight, yet, definitely an accent. His hand comes down to pull me to my feet and it swallows mine as it sweeps me up and then his other hand rests under my arm to hold me steady.
"Thank you, "I manage to choke. He bends over and in a swift maneuver retrieves the contents of my purse, wiping the spilt lotion on his jeans--Oh lord--and places them inside the hand bag. Handing it back to me, he has look of concern splayed across his face.
"Your jaw is swelling; we should get you to the clinic. Can you walk?" He reaches an arm around my shoulders and stands up straight. Jesus Christ Shepard of Judea this man is a Nordic God! He's at least 6'4 with shoulder length blonde hair pulled back at the nape of his long, gorgeous neck; his eyes are the color of a sapphire as it catches a gleam of light. Mesmerized, I nod my head and confirm that—yes—I can walk, and the clinic—oh no! I cannot miss class.
"I can walk," I gulped, not quite meeting his eyes, "but I'm fine, really, just a bit dazed," understatement of the year. "Have to get to class, first day an' all you know. I'll put ice on it soon, I will." Rambling like an idiot. Articulate.
"Well at least let me walk you there, I don't have a class until later, where do you need to go?" His voice, like bells in a choir. Jesus Sookie, swoon much?
Shaking my head to will away my idiocy, I meet his eyes and say," North campus, English department. Thank you, really. I am alright though, I've taken meaner punches," he smirks at my response and slightly lifts an eyebrow.
"Well that is a story I'll have to hear. Let's go before another freak accident occurs before we leave the building. I have a feeling you are trouble." Now he's smiling broadly and I smile back, secretly pleased that this guy has his arm around me.
"I'm Sookie, bye the way. Pleased to meet you," always the epitome of hospitable, I am.
He reaches his free hand around and stops briefly to lift my hand to his mouth. He places a gentle kiss on my knuckle and breathes, "Eric, and the pleasures all mine." His eyes, piercing into mine, almost hit me harder than the freight train of a freshman who only minutes ago laid me flat on my ass.
Well, hell. It's good to be back.