Dark Night

The adventure begins

A good quarter, but so hard. My shifts at the library became like mini-vacations as I struggled through a mountain of classwork and applications for grad school, not only at UCLA but US-SD, University of Washington, and (I gagged violently but applied anyway) USC. There were scholarships to apply for too. I was pretty sure that someone would take me. My free time was cut way down, like most of the other seniors. Kendra was also working hard; there were afternoons that we studied in the room at the same time and did no more than grunt amiably at each other once in awhile. I didn't go to any of the football games. I preferred to spend my limited free time with my friends. Serafina was in a similar state over law school admissions. Paul was adjusting to college nicely; I made a point of checking in now and then. Sure, he had an older brother, but it never hurt to let people know you were interested in their success. And who was I kidding—I didn't trust his brother to keep an eye out. 

I didn't go home for Thanksgiving; it was my last chance to really impress admissions committees with my grades and four days of free time was four days. Well, three and a half. I went out to Thanksgiving dinner with a couple of gals from the house who also didn't go home. We went to Barton G. and enjoyed roasted pumpkin soup with maple crème fraîche; herb-roasted turkey breast with confit leg served with apricot-and-sage stuffing, as well as parsnip-and-potato mash, roasted Brussels sprouts with a pistachio crumble, and candied yams; and pumpkin doughnuts with a side of cranberry compote, pumpkin butter, spiced warm chocolate and cinnamon anglaise. Pricey but so worth it, and I had a quite a bit of money left over from the allotment I made every quarter for my social life, so less than stellar. We sat in the TV room in a stupor and watched movies until our food comas wore off. Then we watched more movies for the heck of it.

The pressure for finals ramped up immediately once classes were back in session and I kept my head down until I scrawled the last words on a test and handed it in. That afternoon I went out with several friends in Westwood for sangria and small plates. I was so tired and worn down that I was buzzed after two wine glasses. Everybody got silly and we made our way back to campus at dusk. I drank a lot of water, popped some aspirin, and went to bed. I slept for twelve hours and was still tired when I woke up, but six hours away, Grandpa was waiting. I levered myself out of bed, took a brisk shower to wake up, grabbed my stuff, and hit the road.

When I got home, I told Grandpa about finals and played with the cats. We talked about grad school, then talked about our Japan trip. I'd been too focused to really pay attention, so he'd done what he did for China, and made our itinerary a surprise. I was really looking forward to it. Stan came over after practice and I heard about his programs. As always, I'd watched him clean up in competitions. He was excited to get to go to a second Olympics but increasingly looking forward to going to college. "Words I never thought I'd hear from you," I joked, tickling him. That devolved into a tickle fight that Grandpa headed off with an offer of brownies. Stan too was filling out college applications; sports psychology was a specialization for grad school rather than undergrad and he was anxious to get a move on. Mom and Dad came over for dinner that night and we got caught up. The next day I hunted up my friends.

They too were burdened with the desire to have great semesters to show to their admissions committees. Except for Zayna; she'd already been accepted to the program, which eased students in during their senior year. Smugly, she said that the work wasn't that bad, but when pressed, said she'd only taken the lowest-difficulty classes last semester. We threw peanut shells at her; we were out for drinks just because we could, in a comfortably shabby bar that served free snacks like popcorn and peanuts with their drinks. The rest of us talked about where we'd applied for grad school and what our top choices were. Maya got a flurry of hugs when she said she'd applied to UCLA as one of her choices to study public policy. "It's time you came home," Cass said affectionately.