Their goodbyes are tearful, yet hopeful. All of them are consoled by the fact that only three months stood between them and another year of misadventures. They mill around the parking lot, clinging desperately to any threads of conversation. It's a testament to how close they are now. They were more than a study group. A family, some would call it. Finally, after they assure each other they'd all keep in touch and hang out over the summer, and all lanes of conversation are exhausted, they finally part ways.
As Annie turns to head off toward her beat up Volvo, Jeff says her name. She turns around. She sees Britta, unlocking the door to her van, cast a knowing look over at them before getting inside the vehicle and driving away. The lot is almost deserted now. The sun blares down and the air is hot and sticky. Annie squints up at Jeff, nearly blinded by the sunlight. She's smiling at him, but can't hold back the few rogue tears that manage to escape.
Jeff smiles as he gently brushed the tears away. He cups her face in his hand.
"You know we'll see each other soon? No need to turn on the waterworks," he jokes.
"I know," she sniffs, playfully swatting his arm away. Her hands subconsciously tug at her backpack straps. "Pierce wouldn't stop hinting about the pool party he's hosting in a few weeks. I think that he thinks he'll somehow trick us into some skinny-dipping pool orgy," she laughs.
"Sounds like Pierce," Jeff nods.
They stood there quietly a few moments.
"Well, I better be off, kiddo," Jeff finally says, though inside he's not really wanting to leave.
"I'm 21, Jeff. I think I'm past 'kiddo'," she says in mock irritation, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips.
"Ma'am?"
"21, Jeff! Not 40." She lightly slaps his arm. "Anyway, I better be off too," she sighs, shielding her eyes from the sun with her hand. Jeff nods slightly before pulling her into a hug. He takes in the light airy fragrance of her soft hair. She pulls away from his embrace, wiping her eyes.
"I'll see you later," she says, giving him one last smile before turning away.
"So I'm guessing that skinny-dipping pool orgy is out of the question?" he calls after her. She looks over her shoulder, grinning, and mouths 'definitely'.
-x-
She's slightly nervous. This is her first class in a long time without any of her friends. She signed up a few weeks before the semester ended. She was hesitant at first. The thought of plunging into another semester without any familiar faces terrified her. She mulled over the idea a few weeks.
It wasn't until a game of Monopoly turned into an argument over whose personal habits were more annoying that finally convinced her to go to the dean and sign up.
She loves her group, her friends – no, her family. They know each other so well. They love each other despite the many flaws, setbacks, and bickering. She knows them all so well. Too well. She decides it would be good for her to branch out and meet new people. People who didn't chart her menstrual cycle and act accordingly. People who didn't know of her love for Mark Ruffalo movies and how anal retentive she is about her purple pens. She needs a change. So she signs up for summer classes. The prospect of change and break from routine scares her. But change is good. Right?
She takes a seat in the back, next to the guy with dark auburn hair. He smiles at her. She smiles back before turning her attention to the front of the class. The teacher stands at the podium, waiting for the clock to strike the hour. The board reads 'Colonial American History'.
She opens a brand new notebook, pen poised, ready to begin. She feels slightly guilty for feeling so giddy at the thought of taking classes without her group. Her security blanket.
They would scoff at the idea of taking extra classes, especially Jeff. Colonial American History? These were the classes she loves, but the study group hates. It's not a slacker class. Judging by the no-nonsense look on her professor's face, the class isn't run by an incompetent teacher. It was her idea of a challenge. She grins at the thought of it.
-x-
"I'm a little worried at how eager Pierce was to have us over for this stupid movie night. Usually it's a Troy and Abed thing," Jeff said, knocking on the front door.
"Maybe he's a Western fan," Annie suggested.
"A fan of something not 'Young and Barely Legal'? Please."
"You seem to be quite familiar with that particular video series," Annie said suspiciously.
"And how do you know it's a series?"
"I – I wasn't even aware it was a video series or if it was a real thing," she retorted hotly, drawing herself up.
"Relax Annie, I'm joking," he said, unable to suppress a grin at her embarrassment. "and for the record, I'm not even sure that's a real series. Not that I'd know or even watch those kinds of films," he added quickly, avoiding her eyes.
She pursed her lips, unconvinced.
"Well, for your record, it is a real series," she said as the lock clicked and the door knob turned.
"Ah, and how do you know?"
"Well, I am the girl who lived above Dildopolis," she replied with a smirk.
"Oh, how could I forget, Stieg?" The door swung open to reveal Troy and Abed, who were wearing costumes. "Please don't tell me we were supposed to dress up," Jeff groaned.
"As if you would have dressed up," Annie mumbled under her breath.
"Who are you supposed to be?" Jeff asked, ignoring Annie's comment.
"I'm the movie's villain, Angel Eyes, played by Lee Van Cleef," Abed explained, pointing to his hat and stick-on mustache. "And Troy is -"
"I want to see if Jeff can figure it out," Troy cut in, puffing his chest out proudly.
"No thanks."
Troy deflated. "You're no fun."
Annie studied him for a moment.
"Blondie?" she suggested brightly. Troy beamed. "It was the hat," she added.
"I'm going to pretend I know what the hell you guys are talking about," Jeff said flatly.
"You've never seen 'The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly'?" Annie frowned.
"And you're suddenly a Western fan?" Jeff replied, eyebrows raised.
"Not Westerns as much as Clint Eastwood," Annie said quietly, blushing slightly.
"That's my character," Troy said. "The dude is a badass," he nodded. Abed nodded in agreement.
"You're... Clint Eastwood's character...?" Jeff asked slowly.
"Yeah, I'm Blondie."
"Hmm, not I know why I didn't see it before."
"Because I don't have the scruff, huh?" Troy frowned, regretfully touching his smooth face.
"What kind of man hasn't seen this movie?" Pierce asked loudly, appearing at their side. "Then again, you're not a man. Cause you're gay."
"Hello Pierce."
"Jeffrey, my boy. Today is the day you become a man."
"Yipee."
"Who... Who are you supposed to be?" Annie asked Pierce, confused. Pierce was sporting a sombrero and brightly colored poncho.
"The Mexican. Paco or Julio or something," Pierce said matter-of-factly.
"Tuco?" Annie guessed.
"Who?"
"Well, I can see this is going to be a super awesome time. Pierce, please direct me to the scotch," Jeff interrupted, yawning.
-x-
She kneels beside her bed. She takes a deep breath and feels underneath the bed frame. She swallows hard when she finds what she is looking for.
She pulls out a small cherry wooden box. On the top bears ANNIE etched into the grain. A gift from her father when she was a little girl . She smiles for the first time in what feels forever at the sight of the sloppy little doodles she added to the box over the years. Stickers that were carefully peeled off of old school assignments that bore 'Excellent!' and 'Fantastic Job!' in bright encouraging colors were now fading and peeling away at the corners.
She brushes away the rush of nostalgia before opening the lid. She stares hard at the contents. Half-empty pill bottles, battered boxes of cold and allergy medicines, and a folded and well-read letter from her father..
She considers reading it, then stops herself. For another time, she tells herself.
After completing rehab, she is anxious about having so much Tylenol within reach. She has absolutely no desire to touch a pill again. But she can't bring herself to throw anything away.
She stands over over the garbage can but can't drop even a cough drop inside. She throws all her medicine in the small box her father gave her. She feels better knowing they were there, within reach, even if stashed in a box that was hastily shoved under the bed.
She vows to herself to never use even a Tylenol, even when confronted the worst of headaches.
Her restraint is good. She never touches the box under her bed for years now, choosing to bear all illnesses, aches, and pain on her own.
Until now.
With shaking hands, she reaches for a small orange bottle. Inside lies two little orange and blue pills. Two little pills was all she had left from her addiction to Adderall. She feels a twinge of guilt and regret before dropping the bottle back in the box.
She knows she shouldn't keep any of those pills at the risk of temptation. But she feels no desire to take them, and hasn't in a very long time. She keeps them as a reminder – a reminder of her struggles and hard fought battle to overcome them.
She picks up what she is looking for: a battered box of cold medicine. She pops two green gel-like capsules from the package and rolls them between her fingers. She takes in the smoothness and bright green color. She dry swallows them and throws herself back in bed. She doesn't care that she didn't have a cold. She just wants to sleep. And soon a wave of drowsiness overcomes her and she gratefully welcomes it and finally drifts off to sleep.
-x-
"C'mon Greendalians! Board the bus and prepare for a summer extravaganza!" the dean called out to the small group of students milling around in the lobby.
"I wish he'd stop calling it that," Jeff grumbled, slinging his bag over his shoulder.
"Admit it, you're excited at the prospect of showing off your manly survival skills. Maybe woo a girl or two," Britta said.
"'Woo'? What are you, my grandmother?"
"We're boarding the bus!" the dean called out. "Our very own Greendale bus!"
Jeff scoffed when he discovered that Greendale's bus was actually an old faded school bus with 'Community College' hastily painted over 'Middle School' on the side. The small group began to line up outside of the bus door. Jeff wished that the dean would hurry up; the sky was cloudless and the blaring hot sun was relentless.
"Where's the rest of the group?" Jeff asked Britta. "They better be here..."
"There they are," Britta said, nodding toward the parking lot. Jeff saw the rest of the group exiting Shirley's beat up van, all toting overstuffed duffel bags and backpacks. "They carpooled with Shirley."
"Prepare yourselves for a weekend of enlightenment as I will pass down a generation's worth of Hawthorne wilderness knowledge to you all," Pierce said with a flourish as he dropped his small bag on the ground next to everyone else's belongings.
"A generation's worth? So, basically only your knowledge," Jeff said. "That's reassuring."
"Is that all you're bringing Pierce?" Annie frowned, eying his small bag of supplies. "We'll be camping out for a few days. Did you even bring any extra clothes?"
"In my grandparent's era, they didn't get to bring any extra clothes," Pierce scoffed. "It was eat or be eaten. They survived on almost nothing. They didn't have the luxuries of whatever crap you have in your bag," he said, tugging at a zipper on Annie's overstuffed bag.
"Pierce!" Annie shrieked as several tampons burst out of her bag's pouch onto the ground. She scrambled to pick them up and shove them hastily back in her bag, face red.
"See? Women didn't have that nonsense," Pierce waved his hand dismissively. "They went out into the woods and used leaves and whatever nature could provide."
"That is so not true," Britta said, rolling her eyes. Annie glared at Pierce.
"I'm fairly sure your grandparents still wore underwear. Not bringing any extra clothes is stupid, Pierce," Jeff said.
"Bah," Pierce said. "You'll see."
"Hello, my favorite study group!" the dean said excitedly, appearing at their sides, brandishing a clipboard. "Ah, and hello Jeffrey," he said with a not so subtle wink. "Pierce, I need you to sign this silly waiver. Just formalities. And we'll be on the road!" The dean handed Pierce the clipboard.
"Why do I have to sign this? What about them?" Pierce asked, peering over the document.
"Ah, just some legal mumbo-jumbo. No big deal. Just sign at the bottom," he said quickly. "just saying that you promise not to sue Greendale in the event you have an accident on this trip... A heart attack. A stroke. Anything of that nature, mmkay?"
"Why just me?"
"Cause you're old and we are not," Abed said unabashedly. The dean winced. Pierce looked offended.
"Well, okay, that's not... Just sign it," the dean said, exasperated.
"I'll show you all," Pierce mumbled, scribbling his signature on the sheet. "I still got a lot left in me. You'll be coming to me when you're stuck in quick sand or needing a fire started when night comes. Maybe I'll get to woo one of you lucky ladies," he added irritably.
Jeff smirked, mouthing the word 'woo' to Britta.
"Shut up," she mumbled, crossing her arms.
-x-