The Institution

Chapter 22: Easier Done Than Said

Oh the joys of Black Friday.  I wonder if other Americans can see the irony in celebrating a holiday devoted to sharing and gratitude one minute, only to turn around and viciously mob a Walmart five hours later for a cheap set of steak knives that'll probably fall apart the moment you use them.    

Arthur and I didn't participate in any Black Friday shopping, but we did have to drive through the traffic early the next morning when we left the McCorvey's house to return to campus.  Neither of us could stand to stay there for a second longer.  I can now understand why Arthur is the way he is sometimes; I'm sure I would be uptight too if I had parents like that.

We whiled away the rest of the weekend playing video games on the console in the downstairs lobby, snacking on sugary treats from the candy store in downtown Lexington, and lounging around in the dorm room.  Between all of this relative inactivity I managed to read three new books.  All in all, by the end of the Thanksgiving break it had been an enjoyable holiday and half week off from schoolwork. 

The return to classes was brutal.  The weather had taken a turn for the worse; snow pelted the dormitory windows incessantly and the wind whistled with a renewed vigor.  Walking to class at seven thirty in the morning was more horrible than I'd imagined it could be.  The only good news was that I no longer had to use my crutches.  On Tuesday afternoon I had my last ever doctor's appointment, where I was first awarded a clean bill of health and then selected as the new spokesperson for the hospital's Healthy Eating & Timely Healing campaign. 

Go ahead and laugh.  I certainly did, at least until they asked me what my secret was and I realized they were being serious.  I accredited it all to a sudden and unexpected appetite for sweet potatoes and unidentified leafy greens, and conveniently forgot to mention my fondness for sugary treats or the uncharted number of times I've fallen on my ass in the past month.    

Christmas was coming up fast, and with it, finals.  I was going into overdrive with all of my studying and for once Arthur wasn't making fun of me for it.  In fact, he joined me in the library almost every evening.  And every afternoon when I returned to the dorm room I found him with his nose was stuck in his books, his pencil clenched in between his teeth. 

The weekend before finals Luke Wellington hosted another party at his house. 

Arthur decided to go because, as he so eloquently put it, "If I stare at my books for one more second my eyeballs are going explode all over this room and the floor will be so squishy with eyeball guts that you won't be able to walk without slipping and breaking your other arm."

I told him that perhaps he needs to start wearing glasses. 

He then managed to convince me to accompany him by spouting some rubbish about how I had broken the sacred bonds of trust when I rudely invaded his privacy and walked in on him kissing another guy, and as such I owed him.  And so there I was, standing in Luke's cramped kitchen once again, drowning in a sea of inebriated college students and too-loud rap music. 

I really do need to be better about saying no to people. 

This time I was smarter about it though, and I stole the potato chip basket.  I carried it with me into the sitting room and settled myself down into a chair in the corner, crunching on chips and quietly watching the party-goers from a safe distance.  For approximately thirty fleeting seconds it really wasn't so bad.    

I should have known better than to expect the peace to last all evening. 

"Ethan!" cried Rachel when she unfortunately spotted me.  I cowered in my chair as she staggered over and took a seat on my left.  I reluctantly offered her the chip basket and she dug out a handful.