David Gordon slammed the door to his apartment closed and threw his heavy
bookbag across the floor. He pulled the Stanford t-shirt over his head and
slung it in the direction of the sofa, which also served as a bed. It was
May, and the California heat was torturous.
He quickly crossed the room and switched on the air conditioner, and the ceiling fan. Then he groaned as he remembered that his camera bag was in his bookbag, and he ran over and dug it out. He inspected his Sony video camera, and, satisfied with the results, laid it carefully on the table.
Gordo had gotten accepted into Stanford, and immediately joined the film society. He was aspiring, like he always had been, to be a director, the next Steven Spielberg. It was nearing the end of his freshman year, and while he should have been happy, he was still miserable.
When he had found out that he and his two best friends had been accepted into different schools, and that no one he knew had been accepted into Stanford, he had been crushed. Early on in the year he vowed to make new friends here. That was the less important reason he had joined the film society. People who shared his interests. But you couldn't replace people who had been your friends your whole life.
College was just like high school. People avoiding Gordo for some reason or another, refusing to sit by him. But these were some of the best minds in the country, why were they still so petty? He supposed he just hadn't found his place yet. He was still lost, still alone.
Gordo missed Lizzie. All those years, and he had never told her how he felt. He regretted it now. He had known her all the eighteen and a half years of his life. He remembered almost telling her, when she broke up with her first boyfriend, the jerk. Many times he replayed the instant over in his head, except telling her when she persisted, imagining how it would have turned out.
He was going to go to the movies tonight. Not with anyone. Just to go. He thought he needed a shower, so he went into the bathroom, threw the rest of his clothes into the growing pile in the corner, and then stepped into the shower.
A few minutes later, Gordo emerged with a towel wrapped around his waist. He had to take a cold shower, mainly because he didn't think he could stand a hot one. He walked into his bedroom, with its unused bed, and looked for something to wear.
He picked out a long red t-shirt and some baggy jeans, and was about to get dressed when he saw that he had left the curtains open. He walked over and pulled them together, and then dressed.
He grabbed his keys off the table, and locked the door behind him. He didn't really have a car. It was an old, blue Volkswagon bus that he hauled all his stuff around in. His parents didn't think it was good for young people to have new cars, and he had no money to buy one, so this would have to work.
Gordo pulled in at the movie theater, trying to park in the shade of the building. When he opened the door, he felt an instant blast of heat, so he wasted no time in getting inside the theater. All he got was a Coke, it was too hot for popcorn.
He took a seat towards the back of the theater, which wasn't crowded. He could see the few remaining people file in, and watched them. There was a guy and his girlfriend, a pretty blonde girl by herself, a group of guys that took up most of the front row, and an older man and older woman, probably about 30, in addition to the rest of the people already seated.
Almost everyone was sitting up at the front of the theater, except the blonde girl who was sitting in the back looking down at the floor. He felt sorry for her all of a sudden, she looked so sad...
Then the movie started. Gordo leaned back in his chair.
He quickly crossed the room and switched on the air conditioner, and the ceiling fan. Then he groaned as he remembered that his camera bag was in his bookbag, and he ran over and dug it out. He inspected his Sony video camera, and, satisfied with the results, laid it carefully on the table.
Gordo had gotten accepted into Stanford, and immediately joined the film society. He was aspiring, like he always had been, to be a director, the next Steven Spielberg. It was nearing the end of his freshman year, and while he should have been happy, he was still miserable.
When he had found out that he and his two best friends had been accepted into different schools, and that no one he knew had been accepted into Stanford, he had been crushed. Early on in the year he vowed to make new friends here. That was the less important reason he had joined the film society. People who shared his interests. But you couldn't replace people who had been your friends your whole life.
College was just like high school. People avoiding Gordo for some reason or another, refusing to sit by him. But these were some of the best minds in the country, why were they still so petty? He supposed he just hadn't found his place yet. He was still lost, still alone.
Gordo missed Lizzie. All those years, and he had never told her how he felt. He regretted it now. He had known her all the eighteen and a half years of his life. He remembered almost telling her, when she broke up with her first boyfriend, the jerk. Many times he replayed the instant over in his head, except telling her when she persisted, imagining how it would have turned out.
He was going to go to the movies tonight. Not with anyone. Just to go. He thought he needed a shower, so he went into the bathroom, threw the rest of his clothes into the growing pile in the corner, and then stepped into the shower.
A few minutes later, Gordo emerged with a towel wrapped around his waist. He had to take a cold shower, mainly because he didn't think he could stand a hot one. He walked into his bedroom, with its unused bed, and looked for something to wear.
He picked out a long red t-shirt and some baggy jeans, and was about to get dressed when he saw that he had left the curtains open. He walked over and pulled them together, and then dressed.
He grabbed his keys off the table, and locked the door behind him. He didn't really have a car. It was an old, blue Volkswagon bus that he hauled all his stuff around in. His parents didn't think it was good for young people to have new cars, and he had no money to buy one, so this would have to work.
Gordo pulled in at the movie theater, trying to park in the shade of the building. When he opened the door, he felt an instant blast of heat, so he wasted no time in getting inside the theater. All he got was a Coke, it was too hot for popcorn.
He took a seat towards the back of the theater, which wasn't crowded. He could see the few remaining people file in, and watched them. There was a guy and his girlfriend, a pretty blonde girl by herself, a group of guys that took up most of the front row, and an older man and older woman, probably about 30, in addition to the rest of the people already seated.
Almost everyone was sitting up at the front of the theater, except the blonde girl who was sitting in the back looking down at the floor. He felt sorry for her all of a sudden, she looked so sad...
Then the movie started. Gordo leaned back in his chair.
