It was the summer of 2000, and I was off to University. After working myself into a frenzy about not being accepted anywhere, I managed to graduate with good grades. Maybe I didn't get a Summa Cum Laude, or any other Laude for that matter, and perhaps I never did become a valedictorian, but I did good. The proof came in the mailbox sometime in July.
"Cathy! Cathy!" my mom yelled.
"What is it mom?" I yelled back from my room.
"Get down here! You have a letter!" She was standing by the end of the stairs looking very excited.
"Who's the letter from?" I asked.
"New York University," mom said, eagerly handing me a white envelop. It felt heavy in my hand, and the stamp in the right-hand corner clearly stated it had been mailed in New York.
"Well, aren't you gonna open it?"
"Mom, I will! Let me get the letter..."
"Here you are," mom handed me the letter opener.
"If I didn't know better, I'd say you're more eager to read this letter than me, mom."
"For God's sake, just open it!"
"Ok, ok! I'm opening it. I'm opening it!" A
RITSCH
was heard when I let the blade of the opener tear the paper. With trembling hands I took out the letter, and unfolded it.
"Dear Miss Davis, We are hereby pleased to inform you that you have been accepted to New York University..." Mom gave up a loud shriek.
"YOU GOT IN!" She grabbed my hand and started to twirl me around. "You got in!"
"Mom!" quickly I jerked my hand out of her grip. "I haven't finished the letter yet!"
Mom stopped dancing, and casually leaned against the kitchen bench. Well, at least she
tried
to make it look casual.
"Now, where was I?" My eyes scanned the letter to find where I had left off. "Ah, yes. We are very pleased to welcome you in fall. A package including information on room and board, facilities blah blah blah will be arriving to you shortly. If you have further questions contact Mr. Allen."
I looked up from the letter. The corners of my mouth started twitching, and I could feel a huge grin form on my face.
"I GOT IN! I got in! Mom, I got in!" Mom looked at me, forcing herself to look cool, but quickly lost her composure.
"You got in!" she screamed and grabbed, this time, both my hands while jumping up and down.
"Oh my gosh, wait until I tell grandma and grandpa. They'll be thrilled to hear!" And with that mom skipped to the telephone to tell the good news to anyone who wanted to listen.
#
Since that day I began to plan for my move. It was quite scary to leave the comfort and safety that living at home stands for. Thankfully I had been lucky enough to get a place in the dorms. Being an only child, the thought of sharing a room with someone was also a bit worrying. What if we didn't get along? What if she was some party princess who thought a good night involved sex, drugs and rock n' roll? Or even worse, what if she was really really boring?
There were so many things that went through my mind that summer. Apart from the usual worries, like; would I fit in? How would the classes be? What if I got homesick? and so many others, there was another worry too. My friends. What about my friends at home? Would they forget about me now that I was off to University? After all, they had their lives, and I had mine. Some of them were also going to College or University, but most of them would be closer to home than me. Not to mention, closer to each other.
When voicing my concerns to my mom, she smiled at me like only a mother can.
"Darling, everything will be new. For you and me both," she gave my hand a squeeze. "But, for you it will also be exciting. You'll meet lots of new people, and you'll make new friends."
"I know that mom," I said, "but I'm worried my old ones will forget me."
"Well, I'm sure they won't forget you, but at times people grow apart," mom looked at me tenderly. "I won't say that your old friends, or new ones for that matter, will be with along for the rest of your life. Friends come and go, and the reasons can be many. What I'm saying though is, it's all part of life. Enjoy your time, don't think so much about what might be. Enjoy the now."
Of course mom was right, but I was still a bit worried.
#
It was a week before I was leaving, Steven, my best friend was coming over. Most of my friends found it weird I had a guy as my best friend, but I didn't care. There always seemed to flourish tons of gossip about Steven and me. Personally I never understood the fun in speculating around our love lives. The last week before the move, not even my girl friends would let go off the subject.
"Are you sure you don't fancy each other?" Beth asked.
"I'm sure, we're just friends!"
"But, how can you be 'just friends' with a guy? Especially someone as cute as Steven!" Beth said.
What could I do but sigh? They apparently could not understand it.
"Have you ever at least considered dating him?" Anne asked.
"Well, I guess I have," I grudgingly admitted. "In the beginning before we became really close. Now I just don't think about him that way."
"You are so strange," Beth said. "He's tall, dark and handsome. Steven's the epitome of the prince in all the fairy tales. Not only good looking, but also nice and intelligent. You must be crazy not to date him!"
"God knows, I'd love to...," Anne added.
"Then date him!" I urged her. "He's single, and I won't be around. I'm sure the gossip press would love to have you date him!"
"Cathy, you're hopeless," Anne sighed. "C'mon, you gotta have noticed how Steven has changed over the past three years. Or have you been that blind?"
"What are you talking about?" I said, cocking an eyebrow, pretending not to understand what she was implying.
Beth looked at me with a stern face. "Don't tell me you haven't noticed the change."
"What change?"
"In Steven!" Beth seemed to want to kill me. She grabbed the milkshake in front of her, and took a sip. "When we started High School he wasn't that tall. He had that boring boy-next door haircut. During his free time he'd hang out with the chess club, and you'd never hear of any girl fancying him."
"So?" I said with a hint of annoyance.
"So...," Beth smiled triumphantly. "Since then he has grown taller, gotten rid of that horrendous haircut, and basically turned from Dawson to Pacey."
"I like Pacey," Anne interjected.
"I like them both," I said. "Now, why the damn comparison about two TV show characters?"
"Because," Beth continued, "Dawson is the typical boy-next-door. He's nice, sweet, romantic etc. Safe in short. Pacey, on the other hand is witty, sarcastic, nice, but has that bad boy streak."
Here I couldn't help protesting. "Steven is
not
a bad boy!"
"Anne, can you tell her to shut up?" Beth looked at me with an annoyed glance.
"Eh, perhaps I better keep out of this," Anne said.
"What I'm trying to say," Beth continued once again. "is that Steven has gone from being...boring, yeah yeah, stop throwing daggers at me, to becoming hot. He's turned from Dawson to Clark Kent, if that's a better comparison for you."
"Dawson to Clark Kent," I repeated not knowing if Beth was joking or not.
"Yes, the Clark in the Smallville series, that is. Hot, nice body, but still with that sweetness and good guy image to him. But you can just tell there's a bad boy waiting to get out..."
"Ok, that's it. No more TV show comparisons!" I said. "I get the picture, he's changed, and apparently for the better. Great, what does that have to do with me?"