Autumn snickered. It was a comically adorable snicker that came out in a series of wheezes, like how that dog Muttley from Wacky Races snickers.
"So, for our project, I thought it'd be cool to take a photo of it as it passes."
"Um, that sounds great and all, but that's not on our project list."
She flicked her hand as if to brush off the notion.
"The project list is for scrubs. We can do our own thing. Don't you think it'd be cool to do the comet thing? We can go camping in Joshua Tree! I know the perfect south-facing spot there to catch a view of the comet."
Ah, and there it is. Somehow, I knew she would be trouble.
"We won't get credit for doing something not on the project list," I said emphatically. "I'm not saying you can't do it on your own time, but we
have to
do one of the projects Professor Adams prescribed for us. And I'm not going all the way out to Joshua Tree for an elective class. Sorry, I just don't have the time."
"Aw, come on, Joey, those projects are lame."
"And? So, what if they are? There's a reason he picked those projects for us. It's real astronomy."
"And observing a comet is not?"
I huffed out of frustration and took a vexed bite out of my turkey wrap. I chewed while I thought up a good retort, and after I swallowed the morsel, I responded with more snark than I intended,
"The point of the class is the calculations. Anyone can go gawk at a comet."
Autumn's face went flat. She snapped her laptop shut and stuffed it in her bag. I thought she was about to snap back with a, "have fun with your real astronomy. I'm gonna go gawk at a comet," then storm off or something along those lines. But she didn't do that. Instead, she replied, "ok, you're right. Just a silly idea. How about the Jupiter thing? That one sounds interesting."
That look of defeat on her face -- guilt spidered through my core like I had just stepped on a puppy's paw. For a moment, I wanted to take back what I said and tell her that I had changed my mind, that she was right, it was a good idea, and I was happy to go talk to the professor about doing it. But I held back. To do something like that seemed like more trouble than it was worth. The professor would probably make us write up a proposal for the project in a way that would make it actually applicable to the syllabus. I had so many other classes. My goal was pre-med, so I was loaded up on all these chemistry and biology classes -- classes that mattered -- so I couldn't waste any more time than required by me on an elective. An elective, by the way, that I only took because I was required to pick one, and this class was the only one that fit into my tight schedule. I had zero actual interest in astronomy. So, to remain realistically expedient to my demanding schedule, between my classes and studying for the MCAT, I chose not to extend that olive branch to her. I did not even make an attempt to compromise. Instead, I did the thing that I was most comfortable doing. I replied,
"Yeah, let's do the Jupiter thing."
And I took out a yellow highlighter and drew a neat highlight through the Jupiter project on the list.
Autumn gave a weak smile and nodded. "Ok, great."
"Great," I replied. "Professor Adams posted the procedure for the project on the class website, so we should figure out a time to go over it. The sooner we knock this out, the better."
"Mm-hm."
I try to be kind to others, and I try to be outgoing. But I often get so fixated on the things that are important to me in my life, like getting perfect grades or passing the MCAT, that I tend to be oblivious to the lives of the people around me. I'm not suggesting I don't like socializing with others or that I'm uncaring. I do care about people. At least, I like to think I do. It's just that I tend to get in my own way regarding friendship. Autumn was going to challenge that about me.
Chapter 2
At this time of year and at our latitude, Jupiter, along with its moons, arced high in the sky at night. Our assignment wasn't a particularly hard one. We just needed a few pieces of equipment: a telescope, a tripod, a digital camera, and an adapter to connect the camera to the telescope. We could have rented the equipment from the astronomy club, but Autumn surprised me by saying she had everything we needed.
That meant then that the only thing we needed to do was coordinate times to meet up and snap photos of Jupiter. The varying orbital periods of the moons is a complicating factor. It takes Io forty-two hours to orbit Jupiter. Europa, eighty-five hours. Ganymede, one hundred and seventy-two. And Callisto 17 days. All of these values can, of course, be found with a simple google search, but our task was to take a series of photos of Jupiter over the next few weeks, then use the moon's positions and, given Jupiter's diameter, to derive their orbital radius, their orbital period, and then finally calculate the mass of the moons using Kepler's law. Luckily, Jupiter and its moons were bright enough that we didn't need to go anywhere special to escape the light pollution. We could even take the photos from a clear spot on a hill near my dormitory. Jupiter is one of those rare celestial objects that can shine through the perennially creamy Los Angeles night.
Our first night of photo-snapping was that Friday. Jupiter would be high enough above the horizon and dark enough to catch some decent photos.
I waited there on the hill on a blanket with a thermos of hot chocolate, listening to the cheerful crickets chirping, taking in the wonderful fresh fragrance of the Eucalyptus trees that rustled their leaves in the breeze, while I waited for Autumn to come with her equipment. Despite our rocky start, I was eager to hang out with Autumn. Despite the tense air between us, I still had a bit of a crush on her.
After ten minutes of waiting, I started getting impatient. After fifteen, I texted her, asking where she might be. I received no response. I tried calling. Straight to voicemail. After half an hour and needing to pee, I gave up and went back to my dorm room, incredibly annoyed that she had stood me up.
It wasn't until the following morning that I received a text from her.
I'm so, so sorry, Joey! I completely spaced out and forgot about the project last night 🙁 Can we try again tonight??
The timestamp for the text was four in the morning. She must have gone out partying all night in lieu of our assignment. That was the thing that made the most sense to me. What else would a college freshman do on a Friday night?
I wanted to text back something petty. Something to make clear my anger with her for ditching me. I was really spun up about getting ditched, especially thinking about how eager I was about the possibility of hanging out with her. I wrote a quick and venomous text, but before sending it, I deleted it. It wasn't in my nature to be petty. So, I took a deep breath and instead texted,
No worries. Maybe Friday night wasn't a good idea, haha.
At first, I wrote to propose Saturday night, but I didn't want to sound like I didn't have a life, so I deleted that and instead texted her that I was busy Saturday night and asked if she was free to do it Monday night instead. I got an immediate text back from her.
Sure! Monday night works for me! Have a good weekend!
I hated myself for not calling her out for ditching me without warning. I wished I could stick up for myself. I wished I was more assertive.
***
Saturday night rolled around, and contrary to what I had told Autumn, I didn't have any plans.
Besides studying for the MCAT, my other big hobby was gaming. In high school, I really got into World of Warcraft (my main character was a night elf priestess). Much of my socializing happened through that game. It was a great way to keep in touch with my friends (my guildmates) after we had all gone our separate ways for college. We used to play a lot on Saturday nights. We'd play for hours and hours, sometimes until the sun came up. But these days, none of my guildmates were on that much anymore. Tonight was much the same. My guild's 'Discord' channel -- our method of online communication -- was as empty as a ghost town. Feeling a bit bummed about playing a Massively Multiplayer Online RPG all alone on a Saturday night, I decided to go out for a walk around campus instead.
The campus was lively. People hung out in gaggles, drinking beverages from hidden containers, producing the strong, ropey smell of a certain smokable plant.
I went down a lonely path beneath the rows of lamp posts with their quiet, slanting lights, along rows of lavender and golden poppies that had just started to bloom. Then I went out to the soccer pitch and strolled along the bleachers. The tall bright flood lamps were still on, saturating the field with their bright lights despite the game finishing over an hour ago. Moths and beetles swarmed around each light in frenzied balls like there was only so much light to go around, and it was each bug for themselves. They made little dinking sounds whenever they bumped into the lights.
