My hair was frozen. Literally frozen.
I reached up to feel my long brown hair, sticking out behind me, and crunched it between my gloved hands. I just couldn't believe it. I grew up in Pennsylvania and, yeah, the winters could be bad now and then. But this? This brought a whole new meaning to "harsh" winter. What would Vickers say?
I mentally went down the list of grievances my roommate would have against all of my terrible decisions today as I made my way up Heart Attack Hill in the subzero temperatures.
First and foremost, she'd tell me I should've worn a hat to protect my hair from the weather. Then she'd comment on my poor choice of footwear. I looked down at my sparkly flats, now completely soaked through from the snow and ice. The knee high socks I wore under them were of little use now. I tried to wiggle my toes to get feeling back into them, but I knew at this rate I wouldn't feel my toes again until I took a hot shower this afternoon. Which would be the moment when Vickers would throw some kind of special conditioner treatment over the shower door and tell me to use it on my previously frozen hair.
Ah, Vickers. I was really going to miss her.
I crested the hill and barely spared a glance either way before hastily crossing the street. Vickers would also have something to say about my canny ability to be late to most everything. She wasn't wrong, but what's a minute or two here and there? Granted, Dr. Mannard did warn us he'd lock the door if we were late today, but really, who was he kidding?
The more I thought about the short, crazy-haired, Irish Catholic professor turning the lock as I arrived to take my final, the faster my numb feet seemed to move. I didn't even remember walking through the Oak Grove; I was suddenly coming upon the history building. Usually, I'd take a moment to admire the historic structure; its large windows, the formidable simplicity of it.
But today, I hurried inside the heavy door and was met with a blast of oil heat. Its heaviness settled upon me, and I started unwinding my scarf as I took the stairs two at a time to the second floor. Exiting the stairwell, I glanced down the long hallway at all the unused lockers on either side. To me, Keith Hall always looked like an old high school. Theoretically it was, but not in the usual sense. The building was used as a Normal School, where teachers in Western Pennsylvania would learn to teach students in a training school.
I could see Mannard's classroom door was still open, thank God. I slowed as I approached the door and was met by Dr. Mannard's smiling, albeit knowing, face.
"Vivian. You made it. Just barely," he said, pointedly. I gave him a nervous laugh and headed for my seat in the back corner.
Andy and Dan were already in their seats. Andy gave me a smile and a nod while I sat down next to him; Dan just sat there with his chin resting on his fists. The only acknowledgement I received from him was an eyeball glance in my direction as I walked past him to my seat. After what happened last night, you'd think I'd get a little more than that.
I took off my gloves and coat and laid all of my things on the radiator next to my desk. There was really no pleasure equal to putting on warm clothes right before you needed to brave the elements again. I slipped off my shoes and pressed my wet feet against the bottom of the radiator, in an effort to dry my socks. Andy saw what I was doing and shook his head, chuckling.
"What?" I mouthed to him.
"Alright," Dr. Mannard announced, calling our attention to the front of the room, "I think that's enough waiting. If you don't know it by now, you won't know it when you get to the essay section. You guys know the drill by this point. Term matching first. Then your short essays. Pick three of the five and be sure to tell me why it is significant. And, of course, the long essays. Choose two of the four."
As he handed out the tests, he continued, "I want it known that I was nice to you all this time around." My snort joined the other quiet laughs that rumbled through the otherwise silent room. "Alright, you have the entire class period to work on this. Good luck."
"How was Mannard?" Vickers asked over a steaming cup of chai tea. We had all retreated to the local coffee shop, where I spent the majority of my days either hanging out with friends, reading a book, or doing school work. I was sipping my latte, chancing a glance at Dan over the top of my mug. I knew he wouldn't look up at me; he never did. He'd act like I wasn't even there until everyone else was gone. Then he'd chat with me, with only one word answers; as if he didn't really care what I thought or had to say. Then he would likely suggest we head back to his place. But until then, he'd ignore me.
Andy spoke up first, "I was fine until I got to the short essay. I couldn't remember the third method of transport for the Market Revolution. And of course Mannard would put some religious movement question on there that no one studied."
"I did that one," I chimed in.
"That's because you can mention Moravians in it," said Dan. I gave him a dirty look, as I typically did when he made a jab at my lesser known religion.
"Yeah, well, after George Whitefield, what did it really matter?" Andy continued. Then looking at Vickers, "I'm not expecting anything better than a B. What about you? Matt told me Moore was especially cruel this year."
Vickers nodded and discussed her Ancient Civ final with Andy. Dan was texting someone, holding his phone under the table, not paying attention to anyone around him.
My eyes wandered over his face. His long, dark eyelashes. I could remember how his eyes would change suddenly when we were alone. His gaze would intensify and his eyelids would relax. My eyes wandered down to his straight nose and I could remember the feel of his nose pressing into my skin as he ran kisses up my neck. Then I looked at his full lips. I remembered tugging on his lower lip while we kissed. Feeling his stubble prick my lower lip and chin. My face was growing hotter by the minute. I forced myself back to the conversation at hand and did my best to ignore Dan's obvious presence so close to me.
"What are you doing for lunch?" I asked Vickers. It was Friday, so the lower dining hall would have grilled cheese and tomato soup.
"I have to swing by the library to print a paper for Pre-Law. Might just grab a sandwich from the cart in the Oak Grove on my way," she said.
I looked to Andy to see if he'd be free and suddenly felt a foot, steadily climbing up the inside of my calf. I glanced at Dan and saw him raise an eyebrow ever so slightly at me before looking back to Andy.
"Eh, I don't have anything to do until 2. What were you thinking?" Andy asked. I knew what Dan wanted and to be fair, I wanted it too. Things had really been heating up this semester after I crushed on him all last year. He was really showing an interest in me and I didn't want to mess it up.
"Oh, well, now that I think about it, I really ought to swing by the Study Abroad office and pick up some papers that I need to send out," I said, not entirely lying. I did have papers I needed to pick up, but it didn't have to be right then and there.
"Yeah, I should go with you to get mine. I've been procrastinating," said Dan.
"Big surprise," mumbled Vickers. She knew about the secret relationship Dan and I had, and she didn't approve of it. She kept telling me if he really liked me, he'd let other people know instead of asking me to keep it quiet. And now with the two of us going on a study abroad in a few weeks to the same university, she was becoming pretty vocal with her warnings.
She had yet to bring up last night, when I rolled into our apartment at 2am the night before a final. I had mumbled something to her about studying with Andy and Dan for Mannard's class and crawled into my bed, hoping she wouldn't ask for details.
I had spent the better part of the evening studying for the final with Andy and Dan. But after Andy peeled off toward his apartment during our walk home, Dan pulled me down a darker walkway between the library and the music hall. He roughly pinned me against the brick wall and before I could say anything, his lips crashed down into me. He ran his hands down my sides and back up to undo the buttons on my pea coat. Before I knew it, he had his hands up my shirt; one on the small of my back pulling me closer to him and the other squeezing my breast over my bra. By the time we were done with our make out session, my mouth was dry and scratchy and my neck and face felt raw after his stubble scratched me for the better part of an hour.
"You're still on for tonight, right?" Andy asked us. He and his roommate, Will, were planning a mini party in their apartment. They were usually pretty low-key and often led to a night out down town in one of the bars.
"Paul is on his way now. He said he's bringing his roommate, Paul. You don't mind if we all come tonight? Paul said he brought something for you especially…whatever that means," Vickers told Andy.
"No problem," replied Andy. Then he looked to me, "You're not backing out tonight. I won't let you." I assured Andy I'd be there and got up to leave with Dan in tow.
We silently made our way back across campus. I blew on my latte to spread its warmth up to my face. The wind was beginning to pick up; stinging my face as it whipped past us. Dan seemed more concerned with creating enough space between us, lest someone figure out our secret. It always hurt when I noticed this, but I figured he just liked to keep our business to ourselves. I never had a boyfriend before; maybe this was what it was like.
My brothers never came home gushing about a girl. Come to think of it, I never gushed to them about a boy either, like I do with my friends, so maybe that wasn't the best example to use. He did tell me a lot about himself; his goals in life, his happy news, and the sad. Only a year ago, he called me as I was heading out to dinner with Vickers and I'd never forget our conversation; nor would I forget how utterly miserable he sounded.
"My dad died today."
I was speechless. My knees gave out and I ended up awkwardly crouched on the floor, my free hand grasping the wall to steady myself. Tears had sprung to my eyes and silently rolled down my cheeks. I knew this guy barely two months, and I was so heartbroken for him. I don't even think I thought of my own family; I just kept thinking about how much I wanted to comfort Dan, in any way I could.
"I…Dan, I'm so so sorry. I'm sorry; I don't know what to say except that I'm so sorry." We were silent for another minute or so. I could hear him crying quietly.
"Can I do anything? Know that you can call me if you need anything," I said once I had pulled myself together. I had to be strong for him.
"Thanks," he whispered. "I gotta go now. Could you tell the others?"
"Of course."
"Okay. Bye, Vivian."
We talked about his dad a lot lately. Especially after the one year anniversary of his death. That was hard for me. I never lost anyone so close to me, so I had no idea what to say. I'd just let him talk and get out his feelings.
In unguarded moments, Dan often told me I was the only one he could talk to; the only one who understood. I knew what he meant; it was as if we were pulled to each other. Some kind of force between us that neither of us could explain.
I glanced his way now. Clearly, this was the cool, calm, uncaring Dan; walking next to his fellow classmate, with nothing to say. But I knew the real Dan.
The Dan whose heart sped up when he touched me. The Dan who took my hand and pulled me closer to him when a shady person passed us on campus at night. The Dan who collapsed in my arms after a long walk and cried on my shoulder. The Dan whose eyes would always seem to find mine when either of us entered a room. The Dan who clearly cared about me. The Dan no one else knew.
"Alright, Vivian, all you need at this point is a copy of your transcripts from the Bursar's Office and a receipt of payment from Financial Aid to present to Oxford once you're there. This is your acceptance letter. You will need this when you pass through Customs to prove you're there to study and you intend to leave. Do. Not. Forget. This." Amy passed me a folder, moving it up and down as she emphasized her last command.
I took it from her and opened it up, reading it to myself. Amy moved on to Dan's instructions to prepare for our trip.
It was six months in the making, but I was finally going to do it. I was going to study abroad in England. I couldn't wait. I'd develop an accent, ride on Harry Potter trains, wear cloaks, live in "houses", and maybe even meet a royal!
By the time everyone else was coming back to campus for the Spring Semester, Dan and I would be boarding a plane with another student from our university and heading to Oxford, England to study at Queen's College.
Dan introduced me to the other student, John Fridg, a week ago. Apparently, they went to high school together and had known each other most of their lives. Dan wasn't particularly talkative with his old friend, but then again, when was he ever talkative with anyone besides me?
Fridg, as he preferred to be called, was a short, pale, fair haired science major. He was shy but seemed to warm up to me once we started talking about our upcoming trip. He seemed alright, but even if he wasn't cool, I wouldn't be forced to see him all the time. His room was on the first floor of our dorm while Dan and I would have our own bedrooms in the same flat on the third floor.
My parents were becoming increasingly worried about my time abroad; I'd never been away from them for so long, let alone across an ocean with Skype and email as our only means of communication. I was a little concerned myself, being on my own in an unfamiliar city.
I looked away from my acceptance letter once Dan finished his conversation with Amy and we walked out of the office together. At the door, Dan moved ahead of me to hold it open. I looked up at him as I passed through and I realized I wasn't going to be alone in an unknown city, thousands of miles away from home.
I'd have Dan.