Dallas (Time for Tammy Book 1)

Chapter 8: Fall Break

"Are you sure you're going to be okay?" Jane asked. She was waiting for the airport taxi with Linda. Both were going home for Fall Break, like most everyone else. Except for me. And Dallas. Earlier in the week, Jane had tried to make sure that Dallas and I would hang out this weekend. "Don't forget about Tammy, you have to keep her company." I'm not sure if he heard her or not. Pity they decided to make Fall Break so soon after school starts, before people have time to really make friends with other people who don't have the money to go back home.

"Yeah," I replied. "I have a paper to write... on Hitler's use of Machiavellian principles."

"Who?"

"You know, were supposed to be reading The Prince for Heritage?" Every freshman, though in different classes, had the same reading list.

"Oh yeah. Maybe I should read it on the plane." Jane made no move to go get it. For a pre-med major, she never seemed to study. "So you're sure you'll be alright."

I nodded, pretending I was much more confident than I felt. "Duh."

"It's just that..."

I knew what Jane was thinking. Just that she and Linda were my only friends (Dallas didn't count) and both were going to be gone for the span of four days, leaving me virtually alone on campus. My parents had just purchased my ticket to come home in December and didn't want to pay for another plane ticket, not to mention I had seen them a week ago. They were going out of town anyway, and Mom had mentioned something about me visiting Corrie at school if I came home. Needless to say, I ended up staying on campus.

"I'll be fine," I told them.

"Okay," Jane said and then turned to Linda. "Ready?"

I walked them down the hallway of Gandhi, waving good-bye enthusiastically. But the room was completely quiet when I returned. Now what?

I flicked through the TV, hoping a stray Jerry Springer episode would be airing, but it was in vain. I decided to shave my legs in the bathroom. I hated shaving in the shower: the shaving cream always rinsed off my legs before I could get to it and there was not enough room in the tiny showers to fully stretch out. So I usually shaved in the bathroom once a week, using one of Linda's bowls to rinse my razor off since the sinks didn't have a stopper.

As I was mid-shave, another girl came in. She gave me the "we-should-be-friends-because-we-live-in-the-same-dorm" smile. I, of course, had seen her around and knew her name was Lizzie. I gave her a "I'd-be-more-friendly-but-I'm-right-in-the-middle-of-something" smile back, hoping she wouldn't mind the water all over the floor.

I couldn't bring myself to eat dinner in the cafeteria, so got a take-out tray and ate in my room while watching a rerun of Friends. The dorm was eerily silent. I suspected most of my dormmates had also left for home or else chosen something fun to do with their Fall Break. I put on my Third Eye Blind CD for inspiration and, finding a marker and some of Linda's construction paper, wrote the words, "HELP, I'M A PRISONER OF BOREDOM." I taped it to the window. Our room faced the main pathway to and from the quad, so I thought maybe someone'd see it and, also feeling bored, we might be able to be bored together. Maybe Dallas would see it on his way across the quad and stop by, and one thing would lead to another, and we'd end up making out. Things would progress throughout the weekend—after all, we were spending 24/7 together in my fantasy—and by Sunday, maybe I'd be ready to... go all the way. Isn't that what college couples did when their roommates were out of town? Dallas would be really gentle, and would wrap those long arms around me afterward and hold me. Or maybe not.

After another hour of rerun sitcoms, I ventured out to the computer lab and e-mailed a few friends from home. There seemed to be a lot of people going in and out of Prasch, the dorm across from the computer lab. Fall Break had officially started, which meant we had tomorrow off from classes, which meant the people left on campus were probably getting drunk. I had gotten another e-mail from Corrie, bragging about how great college life was and how she'd gotten accepted into her first-choice sorority. I didn't have the heart to e-mail her back about my mediocre performance in my classes and the pursuit of a mysterious Horseboy who didn't seem the least bit interested in me. I logged off the computer and headed back to Gandhi. Lizzie-from-the-bathroom's door was the first one on the right, next door to mine. I glanced at the door. There was the usual whiteboard/dry erase marker combo and a couple of knick-knacks. I squinted my eyes upon catching sight of a picture, leaning forward to get a better look at the exact moment Lizzie burst out of the room.