Love and Other Things I'm Bad At (14 page)

10/28

Ozone End Zone Rules!

We blew them away at Homecoming.

Thyme unfortunately missed the whole thing because she wasn’t feeling well, or so she said. Later on, she wasn’t home, so I don’t know. Sometimes I think she is afraid of the spotlight. Anyway, not important. What’s important is this: we got
applause
. We’re starting to have people who
cheer
for us, we almost have a following.

It was really cool because Annemarie convinced a friend of hers from the campus radio station (she has her own DJ slot now) to blast music over the field speakers as we dashed through 35-member marching band’s lame halftime routine, disrupting everything, drawing attention to the plight of our school being associated with, well, plight. Or do I mean blight?

Anyway, the crowd was
huge
. Several old fogies in plaid pants frowning at us. Several alumni heard reminiscing about life in the sixties. Meanwhile Corny was sprinting around trying to distract Dean S., president, football coach, marching band conductor, etc. Very busy mascot. His cornsilk was falling out all over the place; looked nearly bald at the end.

Just as I was leaving the field, Dean S. caught up with me. “Courtney, I thought you’d given up on all this,” he said. “Don’t you want to join a—a—team or something? You seem athletic. You could channel all that energy into, say, volleyball, or field hockey—or how about tennis? I’m the assistant coach, you know.”

See, sometimes I think he does have a crush on me. Wants to be around me constantly. Very embarrassing because it looked to other Badicals like I was colluding with the enemy. “Let’s agree to agree that I’m no good at tennis,” I said, before running off to distribute flyers.

Shouldn’t have run. He’ll force me to be on the cross-country team now.

After the game we all got together to brainstorm ideas for final football game, 2 weeks from today. Everyone wants to do a dramatic scene, or okay, maybe that’s just the people from the drama department who recently joined the group.

“So this would be Shakespeare in the parking lot?” Erik joked.

Looked for Wittenauer to laugh with, then remembered he had to go to various alumni functions, mingle, pose for more photos, pretend he wasn’t in on this. Meeting very boring without him or Thyme there.

10/29

Forget CFC thing. Forget everything! Grant called this morning with the best news. He got me a plane ticket!!! I’m going to see him next weekend!!!

He’s been working all these extra hours to save the money. Not telling me about it. And he kept asking me questions about my classes, like when my midterms were, and made me mail him a schedule, and all my dumb syllabuses. I thought he was just trying to be involved. Turns out he’s been plotting this.

Best boyfriend ever. Confirmed yet again.

Ran across hall to tell Thyme the great news.

“Maybe I can come with you next weekend,” Thyme said. “I have got to get out of here.”

I smiled a little, hoping she wasn’t serious. Don’t really want to spend weekend with Grant
and
Thyme. With Grant and anyone, actually.

10/30

I’ve got the worst stomachache. I’m too excited about seeing Grant to do anything but think about seeing Grant. I know this is wrong because I need to get ahead on my schoolwork because I won’t do any while I’m home. But instead I spent the afternoon shopping for perfect gift to bring. Ended up in Karl’s House of Meat getting badgered by man behind the counter to sample latest cheese crop.

“The thing is, I don’t really
like
cheese,” I said. “This is a gift for a friend—”

“You’ll love it after you try this!” He carved a giant chunk of something slightly stinky and handed it to me. “Now
that’s
a cheese.”

Well, it was either a cheese or a moldy ball of aged butter. Chunk after chunk kept coming over the counter on a wooden board. (Should really not think of chunks right now.) Ate some, stuffed some of it in my pockets, finally ended up buying a gift basket, which includes something called a “Nutted Three-Cheese Log.” It’s stuffed into our mini-fridge, and I hope Mary Jo won’t get mad at me for sabotaging her diet.

10/31

It is soooooooooo cold. Halloween, Wisconsin-style. You must sprint from house to house to collect hot chocolate instead of candy. Ended up working late (a few more weeks of this and I’ll pay back the bank), then went to Halloween party in dorm. No costume for me. Everyone on floor yelling at me for not playing along. I’ll probably start another faction war over this.

Mary Jo was in our room all night doing her best to avoid temptation of candy corn and candy in general. She looked completely miserable. Also a bit on the pale side.

“Have you been eating anything except that weird program food?” I asked her.

“No,” she said. “And it’s not weird!” She slammed down her chemistry book and grabbed the bottle of “Super Energetic Vitamin Boost” that goes with this diet, started shaking pills into her mouth with her shaky hand.

The woman is in desperate need of a good smoothie. She needs fruit and energy boosts. So do I.

11/1

7
P.M.
At my Fun-Times Funders shift. Dying for it to be over so I can go home, write my poli sci paper. Just had very awkward conversation with WW III. He said, “So this weekend, I was thinking we could work on our next protest together. Maybe—”

“Actually, I can’t,” I said. “I’m going home.”

“You are? All the way to Colorado? For a weekend?”

Felt my face turning red. “It’s a long weekend. And it’s, well, to see my boyfriend,” I said. “He got me a ticket, and so . . . I’m going to visit him.”

“Oh. I see.” He went back to his cubicle.

Am I letting down the cause? But what about
my
cause: seeing Grant?

10:30
P.M.
Here I am with 8 books, 3 legal pads, 4 pens, 43 index cards, 6 completely blank discs—like I’ll need more than 1—and 1 computer, and . . . 1 very confused mind.

How am I ever going to finish my paper before I leave for the airport? Oh well. Where there’s a will, there’s a way.

Sure.

Thyme and I are in dorm lounge. Moved our computers down here.

4:27
A.M.
Well, I made my point on the first page and it’s followed by 6 pages of beating around the bush. Thyme’s is the opposite.

Have to write 3 more pages to make it 10. Chugging iced tea. Trying to stay awake, but I think I got the caffeine-free kind by mistake.

6:24
A.M.
Sunrise watching can be fun but in its appropriate time and place. Paper is almost finished. Thyme went to caf to get us donuts and coffee. Like we need coffee. Like we can even hold a cup.

7:30
A.M.
Medical alert! I was staggering back to my room from the lounge, needing to print paper and get dressed for class. Mary Jo was walking toward me in robe and slippers. But she was weaving a little, as if following a line on the floor only she could see. Then she fainted! She totally keeled over! Her bucket dropped onto the carpet, and horsey shampoo and conditioner splattered on the walls. Waiting for Thyme to wake up Annemarie to borrow her car and then bring car around; taking MJ to campus health.

9:10
A.M.
Have been waiting 2½ hours for someone to look at Mary Jo. Thyme left to go hand in our papers. Assistant gave Mary Jo a cursory glance and decided she was “non-emergencial,” and promised to return. Have been up to the desk 6 times demanding help. Each time, Mary Jo tries to escape but is too weak, can’t make it to the exit before I catch her.

Called her parents but got Ed instead. Told him that Mary Jo wasn’t feeling well and it might be good if her family visited this weekend.

“Are
you
going to be there, Courtney?” Ed asked.

“No, that’s why I thought you should come by,” I said. “Because I have to go home to Denver for the weekend.”

“Oh. Well, she’ll probably be all right,” Ed said. “Once she eats a decent meal.”

So we’re going to blow off the health center and go to Mary Jo’s favorite breakfast place, Koffee Kitchen. My treat.

11/2 DENVER!

Same pen, different story.

I’m home! I can’t believe it. I am actually about to go to sleep in my very own bed in my very own room with my very own psycho dog lying on the floor next to me.

Got in pretty late, so Grant and I could only hang out for an hour before Mom selfishly demanded he leave because it was after midnight. She said she wanted to talk to me. Our talk consisted of “What would you like for breakfast?” and “What are your plans?” and “Are you getting all A’s or not?” But at least she did say she’s definitely
not
seeing that chat room guy, or any other Internet guys.

Anyway, big news: Grant has a goatee now. Very weird when I saw him, but he does look even better than before. Typical Grant, he keeps it cut really short and neat. Discovered that I still love him to death even though he devoured the cheese basket I brought him within minutes, like a giant mouse, and didn’t bring me anything.

Okay, so he bought the ticket. No problem there.

But not even 1 flower???

Mary Jo’s stupid Joe even gave her bouquets. And isn’t Grant a better person than that?

Okay. I am not going to spend the weekend thinking about that idiot Joe, or Mary Jo, or anything back at CF. Except maybe to hope that Mary Jo is eating real food.

11/3

I hate it here. I’m miserable. I wish I were in Wauzataukie.

Now that’s a sentence I never thought I’d write.

Maybe I can catch an earlier flight back tomorrow. I could spend the weekend working on our ban-CFC act for next weekend. I am wasting my time here.

Can I really be saying this? Are things that bad? YES.

This was
supposed
to be a romantic trip. Grant and I were going to spend the weekend in each other’s arms. We’d go to all our favorite places, cuddle, snuggle, etc.

So much for having a romantic weekend. I’ve ruined everything, or Grant’s ruined everything, I don’t know who’s responsible. But tonight we got into the biggest fight we’ve ever had. (Maybe because we’ve never fought. Period.) It’s because Grandmother Superior has bronchitis and sounds awful. Okay, I know that she has lived with Grant and his folks for the past couple of years since his grandfather died, and he’s really close to her and she’s really close to him, etc. But does she have to get bronchitis on the one weekend we can see each other?

So tonight he said he had to stay home and keep an eye on her because his parents had a business dinner thing. Hello! It’s
Friday
night
. I just got here last night, and this morning I had to hang out with my mom while he went to classes and then this afternoon he had to work for 4 hours, because he couldn’t get anyone to cover that part of his shift.

So then he came down to meet me in Denver, and what does he want us to do? Not go out here. Not go back to Fort Collins so we can hang out in his room and I can meet his roommate and his friends and go to a party there. No. He wants to sit around holding Grandmother Superior’s hand! One of us on each side of her! It’s
only
bronchitis, I told him. Even his grandmother told him not to be silly, that he should go out with me.

“You should,” I said, trying to ignore her rattling cough. “I mean, Grant, you do see her all the time,” I whispered.

“No, I don’t,” he said. “You don’t know, Courtney. I haven’t been down here at all lately. And she needs me, okay?” He really sort of snapped at me.

The unflappable Grant was actually very, very stressed out. It made me feel awful but I didn’t know how to deal with him. So I came home. What else could I say? But now I feel worse.

11/4

Saturday afternoon, waiting for Grant to come over. Just had lunch with Beth. We spent like 3 hours going over everything and everyone new in our lives. I was afraid I was boring her with too many stories, but she was totally into it.

All in all, though, I didn’t get a good feeling from her. I think she is failing out, though she didn’t say that. And why aren’t she and Bryan spending more time together?

I guess part of it is that I just can’t help thinking that the only reason Bryan and Beth got together is because the dating pool at Bugling Elk had gotten a little shallow, esp. for Beth, who had a new fling every other weekend and had already dated a bunch of the seniors and juniors and had to seek out a sophomore. So I’m expecting her to want to break up with him, because she has a whole new pool of college guys.

Anyway, all through lunch, I couldn’t stop staring at her hands. Her index finger was discolored. That’s when I knew she was totally smoking again. “But it’s different now. I’m only a social smoker,” Beth said when I confronted her about it. “I only smoke at parties.”

“You just told me that you go to parties almost every night! That means you’re smoking
every
day
.”

“Oh,” Beth said, like she hadn’t realized that.

I grabbed her purse. She thought I was going for her smokes—which would have been easy, because there were like 2 or 3 packs inside—but I pulled out her wallet.

“Courtney, what are you doing? Stop that!” She lunged for the wallet.

Just as I suspected. Those charred-lung photos she used to carry around all the time to convince herself—and others—never to smoke again were gone. But why did she get so nervous when I picked up her wallet? “We used to share everything,” I reminded her. “So why do you care if I look at your wallet?”

“It’s private, that’s all.” She grabbed it back from me.

It took me all night to figure out why she didn’t want me to look at her wallet. That’s when I realized something I hadn’t seen inside. Thyme’s photographic memory must be growing on me. Bryan’s picture wasn’t in there anymore. And I can’t stop thinking about what that means and what I’m supposed to say or do about it.

Oh well. At least things are good between me and Grant. I guess that sounds selfish, but last night turned out to be very romantic. Started out pathetic (see above) and I sat around being extremely unhappy for hours. No one else was home. Bryan was away for a cross-country meet and Mom was out with friends. It was me and Oscar. Together again. Not that I don’t love him, but. So I decided there was only one way to repair the weekend. I took Oscar for a long walk. Thought this would create good karma for me, as spending quality time with pet with trauma-induced epilepsy only can.

Then the more I walked, the more I realized I wanted to make up with Grant—immediately. Actually half dragged Oscar all the way over to Grant’s house.

While I was moping at home, Grant had gone to Safeway and bought cough drops for Grandmother Superior, flowers for me. When I got there we hugged for a really long time. He apologized for being selfish when it came to his grandmother. I apologized for being spoiled and unreasonable. But he said I wasn’t unreasonable, the whole point of me coming to visit was for
us
.

I never realized that we hadn’t actually had a fight before. I hated it, and don’t want it to ever happen again. I was going to have us sign a pledge to that effect, but realized that would be childish and also like a prenuptial agreement or something.

So I just told him how I didn’t want to leave on Sunday and how we only had 48 hours left.

“Then we’d better make the most of it,” he said. So we went upstairs and did.

Hope Grandmother S. was really asleep, like Grant thought.