Class - Cecily Von Ziegesar [21]
Another slow song came on, and even as their bodies continued to participate with what was happening in the room—talking to each other, moving puzzle pieces around, pretending not to fall asleep or stroke a foot or a lock of hair—their minds were elsewhere. Each of them in his or her own way was marveling at how they’d gotten there, to this particular house in Maine, this wee-hour moment together, when at breakfasttime they’d been in their own houses, in their own hometowns, with no inkling of this whatsoever.
“Life is like an hourglass. Consciousness is the sand.” Nick repeated a phrase he’d memorized from a book of Taoist meditations, or maybe it was another one of Laird Castle’s bumper stickers. His mom had been putting away money to send him to college since he was in utero, and here he was, throwing it all away on the very first night. It was only a matter of time before they got caught, and then they’d be in deep shit.
Eliza weighed her own propensity for violence. In the last twelve hours she’d seen five guys fall under the spell of Shipley’s infuriating white shorts—their neighbors in the dorm, the injured Nick, puke-faced Tom, and now this farm boy. If the serial killer never showed, she would have to murder Shipley herself.
Tom was having second thoughts. When he’d filled out his preregistration forms, it was all about Economics and Government. But Shipley’s hair was an inspiration. Tomorrow he’d sign up for painting. Even if he sucked, it would probably be an easy A.
Tragedy had just realized that she did not own a single book about space travel. After she’d visited every destination she’d marked up in her travel guides, she’d start saving for the Moon, Mars, or your anus—gotcha!
Adam was also dreaming of an extraterrestrial existence. If this were Star Trek, he thought, boldly taking hold of Shipley’s drowsy bare foot, I’d beam everyone back to the ship except for her. We’d start our own civilization on some abandoned planet, and I’d set up some kind of force field around her so nothing bad could ever happen to her. Even if keeping up the force field meant sapping power from the planet, or losing contact with Earth or the mother ship, I’d do it. I’d even die for her. All at once, his life was imbued with meaning.
But in the fecund forest of her imagination, Shipley had already yielded to another boy’s charms. The wood creaked as Tom carried her upstairs, the gray cat butting ahead of them like a nosy chaperone. He laid her down on a bed. The comforter was purple and blue Ralph Lauren paisley and the walls were decorated like a diorama at the Museum of Natural History. Ducks skated across icy ponds, the tips of their wings touching. A rabbit crouched, sniffing the air as it held up its injured foot. The branches of a willow tree wafted over a burbling brook. Sheep grazed on a grassy hilltop. A wolf looked up from its prey, its fangs dripping. Tom kissed her and their clothes fell away like onionskins. The animals stood watch while they made love.
Tragedy picked up her Rubik’s cube. “Who wants to time me?”
Like jigsaw pieces that had been cut to fit but until now had roamed randomly disassembled in the box, the six of them were now inextricably linked. Of course the puzzle was largely unfinished—it would take a lifetime to complete, or at least four years.
The screen door banged in the kitchen. Shipley bolted upright on the sofa, relieved to find that she was still wearing her shorts.
Here we go, Eliza thought morbidly. Cue chain saw.
“If you’re in there, I want your rear ends back in the van!” It was Professor Rosen. She sounded winded, like she’d been running hard. “I’m taking you back to campus. Obviously you can’t be trusted on your own in the woods.”
5
College has a break-in period. First there is the unfamiliar task of sleeping in a strange bed in a noisy building with a virtual stranger sleeping across the room from you. Your roommate might be an early riser who, after snagging the first shower, is fully dressed and blow-drying her bangs by seven. The roar of the hair dryer hurts your