Standard Disclaimer. I don't own anything, I'm just playing with it. I will put it back neatly when I'm done.
"Well, that should do it," I said, dumping the last load of clothes onto my bed. "Now all I have to do is unpack and I'm ready for college."
I turned to smile at my mother who was already stuffing socks and underwear into the well-worn dresser that was crammed up next to my new bed; I could tell by her face that she was trying not to cry. "Mom, you promised."
"I know," she said ruefully, 'but I can't help it. You're my baby and you're going away to college. It seems like just yesterday I was walking you to your first day of kindergarten."
"Yes, yes, I know. I wanted you to come in with me, and you couldn't, so you gave me a picture to keep on my desk in case I got lonely and I asked if you had a picture of me in case you got lonely. I know that story. I think everyone who was on the plane with us knows that story." I spoke a bit more sharply than I intended, but I couldn't let my mother get too mushy because if she did I would cry, and crying for my mommy was not the way I wanted to begin my college career.
Mom, who knows me well, didn't take offense at my tone of voice, but wiped her eyes, and dropped the sentimental journey. For awhile we worked in companionable silence as we got my things in order by hanging up my clothes, tacking posters to the wall and putting my books on the small shelf that was allotted to me. I was just sticking my photo of my ex-boyfriend and me at our last karate tournament on my desk when my mother said "I do wish you'd picked a school closer to home, though. It's hard to think of you all away across the country." She'd said this more or less consistently for the last few weeks, like I would suddenly change my mind if she brought it up enough.
"Mom. We've been over this. Grand pop was the one who suggested I apply here. He said Seacouver had the best archeological program. I'd feel like I was disappointing him if I didn't come here. Not to mention the fact this is the only school to offer me a full scholarship."
"Yes, I know, and it will be good for you to be on your own. But, I'll still miss you. Nothing you could say will change that."
"We'll see each other at Thanksgiving, and besides, it's not like you're going to be lonely while I'm gone. I'm pretty sure Doctor Mitchell will see to that."
Mom blushed, but didn't deny it. Dr. Mitchell had been my grandfather's physician, and after he passed away, he came over with condolences and an offer to take my mother out for coffee. A couple of months later, he was back with a dinner invitation, and before I knew it my mother had a boyfriend, for the first time in my living memory. I'll admit my inner child had some problems with it, but logically I knew it was good for her. With Grand pop gone and me across the country it was time for her to get her own life. "Are you sure you don't want to come have dinner with me? I've a few hours yet before I have to catch my plane."
"Yeah, Mom. I'm sure. There's the big 'Freshman Mixer' thing tonight, I really think I should go to that."
"I know," Mom said with a rueful grin, "I guess I was just hoping to put this off a bit longer."
"Right." We stood quietly for a moment, neither of us, it seemed, wanted to be the first to say goodbye. Finally we hugged tightly, and I found myself unwilling to let go. Despite my best efforts I felt the tears coming. Fortunately my two roommates chose that moment to arrive, so we had no choice but to end the hug and put on a brave face.
After one last goodbye, and a brief greeting to my roommates my mom disappeared through the door and I was on my own for the first time in my life.
Well, not completely alone. Being a scholarship girl, we had limited funds for my housing, and a 3-person room was the best deal. As an only child, I was looking forward with great trepidation at having to share my space with not one, but two strangers. Still, I looked on it as one of the many adventures I was hoping to have in this small step into adult hood. "Hi, I'm Molly Lewis," I said smiling in what I hoped was a friendly manner.
The taller blonde girl spoke first. "I'm Anne Kauffman, nice to meet you." We shook hands awkwardly.
"And I'm Maggie Stewart," The dark haired girl said, offering her awkward handshake as well. "I'm from this area so I already offered my tour guiding services to Anne. You're welcome to pump me for questions, too."
"Thanks. I'm from New Jersey, so I'm sure I'll need your guidance." We all stood uncomfortably for a moment, unsure what to say next. It was strange; meeting the strangers I was going to live with for the next few months. We could become best friends or bitterest enemies, or even just indifferent acquaintances, and all we had to go on was the fact that all three of us couldn't afford a private or double room. "Look at us," I said, hoping to fill up the silence, "A blonde, brunette and a redhead. If we walk into a bar someone might think we're a joke." It was stupid, but they giggled, and it helped break the ice somewhat.
"Well, we may as well start getting acquainted," Maggie said, plopping down on her bed and tucking her feet under her. "I'll start. Like I said, I'm from this area. My mother is a professor here, she teaches English, so I get in for free. My sister is a senior here. She's studying to be a nurse. I haven't chosen a major yet, but I'm leaning toward Communications."
"I'm pre-med." Anne said, I want to be a pediatrician. I'm from the San Francisco area and, um; I have two younger brothers. I'm on scholarship."
"I'm on scholarship too," I said. "I want to be an archeologist. Of course everyone seems to think that this degree is going to get me nothing but a career in retail or something, but it's what I'm interested in, and I don't see the point in studying something just because it's practical." That was one of the things that broke Jack and me up. He thought I should study to be a teacher or a businesswoman or something. Something safe. No thanks. "Oh, and I'm and only child." I added since mentioning siblings seemed compulsory.
"Oh, archeology. There's a good program here. Great history department, too." Maggie said. "There's a professor here that has practically every female on campus drooling. My sister had him last year, and for an entire semester it was practically all she could talk about. She even considered changing her major to history because of this guy. Of course, my sister's kind of a bimbo."
"Well, if he teaches Intro to World History I'm in luck," I said. "I'm taking that this year. What's his name?"
"Um...I don't know. I don't think my sister ever called him anything other than Professor Hottie." Anne laughed at that and Maggie shrugged. "Told you, she's kind of a bimbo." She shook her head. "I totally can't think of his name."
I got up and checked my schedule. "Nope, it's not on here."
Anne went over to the computer. "Well, now that we're all dying to know what Professor Hottie's real name is, we may as well satisfy our curiosity." She went to the schools web-site, and Maggie and peered over her shoulders at the screen.
A list of the history professors popped up, with pictures. "There he is," Maggie cried, pointing to a bio about halfway down the page.
"Your sister is right," Anne said, "He is a hottie. What's his name?"
I never thought it happened in real life, but I felt dizzy with shock. I actually had to grip the back of the chair so I wouldn't fall down. I couldn't believe it. It was him. Here. "MacLeod." I whispered. "His name is Duncan MacLeod."