I.
We had been driving down the interstate for hours, with nothing but gray roads occupying my vision, and the sound of the radio blaring through the speakers of my dad's pick up truck keeping me awake. He seemed happier now that we were heading home, singing along to an old Beatles song with all the grace of fingers on a chalk board. I was tempted to ask him to stop, but it was the most transparent I'd seen him in years (to the point where it was a little disturbing actually), and I didn't want to put a damper on what had been a surprisingly pleasant trip.
A couple weeks had passed since my father and I had had our mini-breakthrough, and things between us had only gotten better. That very same night when I returned from work, he pulled two beers from the fridge and handed me one, and for the first time in our lives we just sat down and talked. In a way it was the most surreal moment of the summer. It was like that single hug I gave him broke through every barrier between us, and before we knew it we were a few beers in and pouring our hearts outs. Naturally we talked at length about my future and school, and I finally admitted to him that I was afraid. But instead of casting those fears aside like I always assumed he would, he assured me with a hearty laugh and a clap on the shoulder with his aged leathery hand.
"You'll be just fine," he said, his words slightly slurred with warmth, filling me with a sense of comfort I just then realized I had been craving from him for so long. "You're a smart kid. Always have been."
That's when he proposed the idea that we take a trip down to East Shores University, to see my upcoming home away from home for ourselves. I agreed, though with some reluctance, and he promised he'd make the call to set up an appointment for a tour the next day.
A few more beers in and all talk veered from my future to his past. My dad was more than happy to regale me with the crazy antics of his own youth, many of which I hadn't heard before, stories of pranks gone wrong and high school brawls, all of which caused me to look at him in a new and brighter light. We really were quite different from each other, I realized then, even more than I had thought, but that night we were closer than ever.
"I miss mom," I said when it seemed like all conversation had been exhausted. It had been so long since I thought about her. Sometimes it felt like she'd never existed, and this suddenly disturbed me.
"Me too son." My dad held his head down, trying to hide the tears forming in his eyes. "Me too."
It turned out a tour of the campus was exactly what both of us needed. My dad finally had a reason to leave the house, and I was forced to come face to face with the future I had wanted to run away from. It did a lot to quell both our anxieties, and I was grateful he had made the suggestion. It helped to see everything in person, to know what to expect when I made the move in just a few short weeks. The guide, a peppy pink-haired senior girl named Janelle who wore her ESU jacket with pride, graciously showed us around and answered all the questions we had. She certainly knew how to talk up the school; by the end I was actually kind of excited to become a part of what she emphasized was the "ESU family."
"It's a nice campus," my dad said as we walked back to the car. The tour had left us thrilled, but tired and ready to go home. "Very spacious."
"Yeah, I like it. Big, but not too big. Not sure about the dorms though."
"That's part of college life Jacob. You're going to have to get used to sharing."
"I guess," I conceded.
It was the one blight on what I thought was a genuinely beautiful campus. The residence hall was no different, at least on the outside, with its freshly painted walls and well kept shrubbery framing its sides, but inside revealed what amounted to a multi-story sardine can, full of long halls and tiny rooms for two. Janelle must have sensed my reservations, because she jumped at the opportunity to sell it to me as best she could. But I still had my reservations.
"You probably won't be spending too much time in your dorm anyway," my dad continued. "Plus, you've got the coast right down the way, most of the kids will be hanging around there I'm sure. Lots of girls too."
"Stop dad."
"What? I'm just saying, you meet a pretty girl, you take her for a midnight stroll down the beach—"
"I get the idea."
My dad's sudden interest in my personal life was something I was still getting used to. A couple beers into our talk I had mentioned Miss Amber, though thankfully I was at least sober enough to leave out the details. All he knew was that I was seeing someone, and that's why I was gone so often. I could tell he was relieved to hear this. He'd never said as much, but it was always obvious to me that he was worried about my lack of a social life, particularly with regards to women, so to hear that I was out there "chasing skirts" as he liked to call it must have been a relief.
"I'm not chasing skirts dad," I'd said. It was one of those times where the generational divide was most stark, where his boomer era crassness rubbed me the wrong way. "That's not who I am."
"We'll see," he said.
As much as I didn't appreciate the implication, the seed had been planted, and there was no denying that there would indeed be many sexual opportunities in the coming future. For the first time I would be on my own, discovering who I was, surrounded by girls my age who would be doing the same. And he was right, the nearby beach was an unforeseen advantage in that regard, one which the school was more than happy to remind you of. plastering their website and pamphlets with photos of happy young people frolicking around campfires, the gorgeous waves of Lack Michigan splashing behind them against a setting sun. It was all part of an expert marketing strategy to entice potential future students with the promise of unexpected romance and good times alongside lectures and tests.
The university sat in the center of East Shores, a small but lively Midwestern beach town that, again, according to the website, "prided itself on offering a variety of day and night life activities for students of all backgrounds to enjoy." Janelle had of course made sure to mention this, all the while smiling and crinkling her nose a bit in such a way that I couldn't help but find charming.
I like your pink hair,
I wanted to tell her, but I wasn't about to start flirting in front of my dad.
"Almost home," he announced, stirring my attention away from my thoughts and back to the outside world passing us by at a smooth but frustrating slow forty-five miles an hour. The monotony of the interstate had been replaced by the bright bustling lights of city life, of retail stores, restaurants, and modestly sized buildings, all vying for your attention. Knowing we were so close, I could feel the energy in my veins bubble and boil, a combination of excitement and anxiety that compelled me to pull my phone from my pocket and read Miss Amber's message again.
It's time. Come over tonight. I promise you won't regret it ;)
My palms grew slightly sweaty as I remembered the relief I'd felt waking up to that text that morning. Ever since the night of intense pleasure and pain I'd experienced with Miss Amber, the dynamic between us had shifted yet again, just as I had suspected it would, only this time I couldn't say for the better.
It had started out innocent enough, when she dismissed me from assisting her at the children's desk. Summer Reading had ended, so I thought nothing of it; it's not like I hadn't expected I'd have to go back to my usual duties at some point. But it was the way in which she cast me off that left me slightly disoriented. She was uncharacteristically cold, her words short and to the point, body angled slightly away from me, unwilling or unable to look me directly in the eye.
"Maybe we should do a little celebrating tonight," I'd said, trying to mask my desperation. "It's not often we break records."
Getting kids to sign up for Summer Reading had always been an uphill battle, but that year we had done really well, better than expected, and I had no doubt it was due to Miss Amber. I saw it first hand, over and over again, the way she used her charisma and beauty to draw parents and their children into her web of positivity, a youthful energetic approach that had been missing from the library for so long. Fathers were particularly sensitive to her signals, and she wasn't above adding the slightest bit of flirtatious edge to her interactions with them to seal the deal, so subtle even the mothers standing by their sides couldn't detect it. But to me it couldn't have been more obvious, and I always watched with heightened interest, studying her, admiring the way she so effortlessly made everyone she talked to seem like the most important person in the world. That was worth celebrating, and I had hoped she felt the same.
"About that Jake." Miss Amber turned in her seat and finally met her gaze with mine, her face blank and serious. "I think we ought to take a break for a while. A little bit of distance could do us both some good."
