Stella: OK, I guess. C u then. Have a great day!
Donnie:You too -- have a great first day, beautiful Stella.
It’s funny, neither my mom nor Bradley wished me luck today. Alex is so sweet. What is he really doing talking to me? Someone that good-looking, that built, that popular, who has so many exciting things happening in his future should want nothing to do with the likes of me. I need to remember that he’s just a friend. I donotwant to lose my head over Alex Emerson––no matter how tight his end is. I’ll do my best to forget his little kiss last night though. I know he was just trying to make me feel better. I need to get advice from Lily. She’ll be able to put things into perspective for me. We have class together later today. I’ll do it then.
Enough of the daydreaming, it’s time to get ready for the first day of the rest of my life. I shower and do what I can to my wavy hair. I dab on some lip gloss and mascara and put my dad’s old Nirvana T-shirt on. Yeah, he used to be cool. I decide on a pair of cutoff jean shorts. I also choose my yellowConverse low tops. I’m going for comfy casual, so I can blend into the crowd. The last thing I want to do is draw attention to myself, and looking like a typical Freshmen is definitely a no-no.
My first class, psychology, starts at nine thirty. I had a similar course in high school, so it shouldn’t be too difficult. My second class, the one I’m the most excited for, is Life Painting. It runs from noon until three. Most classes last about an hour and a half, but studio art classes run twice as long. It’s a good thing, because once you get all of your paints out and start working, you don’t want to stop.
I’m a little nervous about the “life” part of this class because we’ll be painting people in the nude—as in real, naked people. I’m not sure how I feel about painting someone’s you-know-what. I must remember I’m a grown-up now and an artist. I can do it. While we will paint both women and men, I’m most nervous about the men. I haven’t actually seen a guy naked before––the internet doesn’t count. My artist’s heart tells me it’s important to learn how to draw and paint both sexes in the correct proportions. I feel my face flush just imagining the classroom and a nude male model. I know! Maybe I can find a way to draw the male models from the back.
All of my other classes meet on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. Those include English Composition, Introduction to Business, and Geology 101. They call geology “rocks for jocks” because it’s supposed to be easy enough for the college athletes to pass. I hope they’re right because I know absolutely nothing about rocks.
After my first class, I have some time to spare before Life Painting, so I take a long stroll through campus to people watch. I brought a sack lunch since going to the cafeteria this morning was not an option. It’s still very intimidating down there. I pull out a granola bar to munch on as I walk.
Around me, I see a few familiar faces from my first classand the dorm. When I turn a corner to make my way to the Art and Design building, I see Alex across a large grassy area. He can’t see me though. He’s standing with some other big guys and a few girls, really beautiful girls. That’s not a surprise. A couple of them are clinging to Alex like Velcro. One of the girls goes up on tiptoes to whisper something into his ear, but he makes no move to bend closer. I can’t decide if I feel relieved by that or not. I shouldn’t feel anything. He’s out of my league. I see one of the girls laughing with her head thrown back, and Alex has a smile on his face, but he’s not looking at her. Nope. He’s looking right at me. I hope he didn’t see me staring. He smiles the best smile ever and waves at me. His wave is animated, like he’s really happy to be doing it. I smile and wave back, then turn and head to art class.
Art class. If I had my choice, I’d be an art major. I love to draw and paint. It’s something I could see myself doing every day for the rest of my life, painting especially. When I paint, I feel the weight of the world lift right off my shoulders. I get so immersed in the work I forget my troubles. It’s not only that. I feel like Ineedto create. The problem is, my parents don’t see it that way. My dad wanted me to go pre-law, but that’s not me. Since I said no to law, my mom decided my major would be business, that way I could choose to work for a company doing whatever business majors do or I could start my own business––a little shop or something. Ugh, I hate the idea of doing either of those things unless the little shop is an art gallery. It’s no use arguing with Mom, though, so I submitted and listed my major as business. Choosing my battles is the key to surviving life with my mom.
As I approach the best building on campus, the Art and Design building, I see the one person I’m trying to avoid. It’s going to be impossible though. I just need to deal with him. “What are you doing here and how did you know I was going to be here, Bradley?”
“You showed me your schedule like twenty times this summer, remember?”
That’s right, I did. I was so excited about everything. I probably drove him crazy repeating all of the details. “Whatever. What are you doing here?”
“I wanted a chance to talk to you without King Kong interrupting.”
“King Kong?”
“Yeah, that huge guy. Anyway, I think you should come home with me this weekend so we can sit down with our parents and talk about all of this.”
“Why is this any of their business? I don’t want to sit down with your mom and my parents and discuss my love life, or lack thereof.”
“You know why it’s their business. They want us to be together. They want us to get married. They’re never going to accept that you broke up with me.”
“Bradley, I think you ruined any chance of us ever getting back together, don’t you?”
“I told you, Stella, it was a mistake, a one-time thing, and not what you think it was about.”
How does he know what I thought? I didn’t confide anything in him, nor will I. “I’ve got to go, Bradley; I’m going to be late for my class.” I turn to leave and start to move away, but a hand grabs my arm roughly and yanks.
“Just wait one damn minute, Stella. You owe me the opportunity to talk about this.”
“Ouch, you’re hurting my arm, Bradley.”
Just then, a huge shadow falls on Bradley’s face.
“Let go of her arm!” growls Hank, Alex’s roommate. “Stella, is this guy bothering you?”
“She’s my girlfriend. This is between us, asshole,” barks Bradley.
“I don’t think so, little man,” chides Hank.
“Little man? I’ll have you know that I’m the president of ΣΑΕ,” spits Bradley.
“Hank, it’s okay,” I say, hoping it calms Bradley down.
“The hell it is, Stella,” Hank protests. “Dude, you have one second to get your hands off her before I pound your sorry ass into the ground.”
