Dallas (Time for Tammy #1) (3 page)

Quite a few people slowly raised their hands. I sat back, arms crossed. I’d always been more into fish than mammals.

“Humph. You need a psychology degree, not marine biology. Once you get that, you will need to claw your way to find a job—I won’t say to the top as you will be working 365 days a year at minimum wage, 366 for leap years. Not to mention you’ll have to find a partner who doesn’t mind you smelling like fish.”

One guy sitting in the third row slammed his notebook shut and shoved it into his bag.

“And how many of the rest of you expect to have a job at the end of four years?” The professor climbed back up behind the podium as the guy in front of me negotiated his way through his row and out the door.

The majority of the people in the room, including me this time, lifted their hands into the air.

“Not without at least two
more
years of schooling if not a full-on PhD if you are counting on making ends nearly meet. That is after you receive your purloined degree from Eckhart, where you will navigate your way through increasingly tougher classes.”

My arms went back to encircle my chest as the people around me exchanged worried looks.

“And so.” The professor's eyes became even more glass-like behind his thick frames as another group of students quietly left the lecture hall. “Let us begin with the phylum Arthropoda.”

My last class that morning was Calculus, another requirement for my esteemed degree. The professor was tall and round with an unplaceable accent. He spent the hour writing with a dry-erase marker and talking to the whiteboard, his back facing us. As he moved, his protruding belly wiped away some of the marker.

“Are you wish me?” he finally addressed the class. The entire length of the whiteboard was covered with alien writing, like something out a sci-fi movie.

“Are you wishing?” the person in front of me asked. He (she?) had glossy brown hair that hung straight down his (her?) back.

“Wish me. Are you wish me?” the professor repeated.

“Wishing to get out of this class,” Glossy Hair half-whispered.

“Are you
with
me?” a girl to my right hissed.

“No. No, I’m not with you at all.” Glossy Hair turned sideways to glare at the hisser and I could see it was definitely a boy. I silently agreed with him as I took stock of the half-erased mosaic on the whiteboard.

After that gem of a class let out, I walked toward the campus’s only cafeteria. I had been living on the cereal and milk my parents had bought before they skipped town, and hadn’t actually been to the cafeteria yet. I was afraid I wouldn’t have anyone to sit with. Simple statistics—the fact that I had two roommates—would conclude I should always have someone to eat with, but Linda and LaVerne, my supposed-to-be-automatic-lunch-companions had been absent for every meal. And the necessities of being out of milk and a growling stomach were forcing me to go it alone.

My initial impression was it wasn’t the Troll Cave I had feared. The rectangular building was made of glass on two sides, which caused light to filter throughout the room. It was slightly crowded, but food and table-wise there were a lot of different options. I filled my tray with a veggie burger, fries, and a diet pop and then contemplated where to sit. I cast my eyes quickly around the cafeteria, conscious of the way I held my tray. I couldn’t wait too long or people would figure out I didn’t have anyone to eat with.

I spotted the red-haired girl from the complex party, the one who wanted to pull out the stereo cord. She sat at a four-top table with a mousy-looking girl who seemed familiar. The Mouse didn’t look my way while the other girl gave me the evil eye as I approached.

“Is anyone sitting here?” I asked. The problem with a four-top was that it was exclusive. If they were expecting more than one more person, perhaps someone whose roommate actually deigned to accompany them, my presence would be unwanted.

But the red-haired girl slid her tray over and gestured toward one of the empty seats.

I arranged my tray and prepared to introduce myself, but neither girl made eye contact with me. The mousy girl stared at her food without eating it, and the other girl shoveled food into her mouth while furtively scanning the tables around us. I started inhaling my food. I didn’t want them to finish their lunch and then get up and leave me at the table alone.

A new tray landed loudly on our table as a guy sat down in the chair across from me without asking if it was occupied. All three of us gaped at the newcomer. He didn’t look like a typical college freshman. He had a shaved head, a full grown beard, and looked, well, manly. He didn’t introduce himself either. I was starting to get the feeling social norms didn’t apply to the students of Eckhart College. I continued to hurriedly spoon food by the forkful into my mouth, spurred on by the scowl that never left the newcomer’s face.

In the middle of my last bite of veggie burger, the man threw down his fork, causing the other girls and I to jump. “It’s too loud in here for me to eat.” He glared at each of us in turn, as if, despite the fact we had been sitting in silence for the past ten minutes, that was somehow our fault. He picked up his tray, threw it onto the conveyor belt behind him and headed out of the cafeteria.

“What was that all about?” I asked the other girls, stunned enough to end my silence.

“I don’t know,” the red-haired girl replied, staring out toward the cafeteria exit. “But I think I just fell in love.”

“I’m Tammy,” I told her, sensing a change from her earlier mood.

“Jane. What country do you think that guy was from?”

“I heard he was from Trinidad. He’s on the basketball team and he’s like 25,” the other girl said.

I learned two things from the remainder of that first lunch. One, stated matter-of-factly from Jane, was that she and the mousy girl—Pam—were roommates. The other was implied: that in the tiny, 1500-student college we now attended, gossip flowed freely, and Jane’s new roommate was a rumor spreading center.

I placed my tray on the rack in tandem with Pam’s full tray and Jane’s empty one.

“Well, I’ll see you guys later, I guess,” I told them as we headed out of the cafeteria.

“Aren’t you going back to the dorm?” Pam asked.

I nodded.

“We are too.” Instead of turning left toward every other dorm on campus, they were following me, meaning they were also heading back to my complex.

“Are you guys from Alpha?”

“Duh,” Jane said. “We live in your dorm.”

“Oh.”

“But we’re upstairs, so that’s why you don’t recognize us.”

I shrugged. “I don’t really recognize anyone.”

“Don’t you AIM?” Pam the Mouse asked.

“Aim for what?”

“No. AIM stands for AOL Instant Messenger. I met all kinds of people online before I came here.”

“No. I don’t AIM,” I told her as we reached Gandhi.

“Oh,” she said, heading up the outside stairs. “I guess that means you will have to meet people the old-fashioned way.”

Jane rolled her eyes as her roommate entered the dorm. “Don’t mind her. She’s from Wisconsin.”

“I’m from the Midwest too. Michigan.”

“Oh. Never been to either,” Jane sat down on the same picnic table from last night, only this time she sat on the top of it. “I’m from Rhode Island.” She emphasized the I, as in ‘Eye-land.’ “What’s your major?”

“Marine biology.”

“You’re one of them?” She looked me up and down. “I didn’t think you were.”

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t you know half of our incoming class is a marine bio major?”

I shook my head as she continued. “Yeah, the dropout rate is something like 80%. I heard they give you guys really bad classes to make you change your major right away.”

I thought back to my Bunsen-from-the-Muppets-like marine invertebrate professor. “Not me. I’ve wanted to be a marine biologist forever…what are you majoring in?”

“Pre-med.”

Now it was my turn to eye her up and down. She was a few inches taller than me and much more slender. Her red hair was pulled back off her face, revealing a high forehead and liquid brown eyes framed by pale lashes. She looked too elegant to be pre-med, but of course I didn’t say that to her. “I didn’t even know they had pre-med here.”

“Yeah, well, they have to have other majors. What are all the people who drop out of marine bio going to change to?”

“Probably
not
pre-med.”

“Right.” She hopped down off the picnic table. “I gotta get ready for my afternoon class.”

“Have fun!” I replied in a too-bright voice.

“Yeah. And good luck with the marine bio thing.”

The disappointment mounted as she started walking toward the stairs. I was really hoping Jane might have become a friend.

“Hey, Tammy.” I looked above me. Jane leaned over the balcony leading to the second floor of Gandhi. “What time do you usually eat dinner?”

“Whenever,” I told her, forgoing to mention I hadn’t officially eaten dinner in the cafeteria.

“Do you want to meet at 5:15 and we’ll go together?”

I forced my facial muscles to remain flat. “Sure.”

She went into the dorm as my smile broke free. I finally had a dining companion!

Chapter 3: Dinner Date

J
ane and I soon became inseparable in the way only two girls who were away from home for the first time can. She really did develop a thing for the angry basketball player, on whom we bestowed our first nickname, the “Dadian,” aptly named for both his origin of birth and the fact he could pass for someone’s father. I had long since given up on Eric at that point, and was eager to find my second college crush and possible first kiss.

I had never had a boyfriend and, considering the majority of my new classmates at Eckhart went around wearing next-to-nothing and came in to class on Mondays speaking of parties I wasn’t invited to, I started to feel as excluded at college as I did in high school. But at least now I had a friend so I wouldn’t spend the weekends alone in my dorm room.

Linda and I had become closer once her parents left to go back to Minnesota. But LaVerne never seemed to be around during the day. She basically used our dorm room for changing clothes and sleeping, silently entering the dorm room long after we were asleep.

Jane took on the role of our third roommate, frequenting our room especially on the weekends when it seemed like everyone else was partying. One night Jane decided to check LaVerne’s video collection, as we’d gone through all the tapes Linda brought to accompany her VCR in the first few weeks of school.

“Hey,” she said, pulling out a blank tape. “What do you think is on this?”

“Jane, let’s not watch that. It could be personal,” Linda replied.

“So? That’s her fault for leaving it lying around.”

It turned out to be a recording of LaVerne’s Prom. LaVerne was a tall girl with giant muscles; she reminded me of an American Gladiator from the show I’d watched with my dad when I was younger. Her prom dress was sleeveless, all the more to show off her powerful arms. Her date was much shorter than her, but dark and handsome.

“Where’s your roommate from?” Jane asked, her eyes on the screen as girls in similar sparkly dresses gathered in front of a classical-looking statue in what appeared to be a public park.

I glanced at Linda, who furrowed her brow. “New Haven?” she guessed. I nodded.

Jane's eyes finally left the TV as she glanced back at us.“What, isn’t that in the suburbs of New York City? Like, where all the rich people live if they don’t live in the city?”

Linda and I looked at each other. “Don’t know,” I replied.

“If she’s that rich, than why is she always borrowing money from me?” Linda asked.

Jane and I shrugged.

“Wait,” Linda said, scooting closer. “I think those are LaVerne’s parents.” She pointed at the screen and then looked to me for confirmation.

“I don’t know. I never met them.”

“I did,” Linda replied, a slight tinge of acid in her voice. “They made the RA and me help bring in all of her boxes of shoes.” The three of us swiveled our heads toward LaVerne’s bulging wardrobe. “Did you know she asked if she could store some stuff in our closet?” Linda and I were forced to share one closet, which wasn’t really that bad as, unlike our roommate, neither of us had an overabundance of clothes. Or shoes.

“Wait,” Jane said, her eyes back on the TV. “There’s a house in the background. I bet that’s where LaVerne lives.” Whoever was filming panned out from the future Prom attendees to show a massive mansion.

We continued to watch LaVerne in her revelry, hugging friends and sneaking drinks from a plastic cup. At one point she lifted her Prom date up off the ground in a giant hug. Jane finally said. “I didn’t even go to Prom. Did you guys?”

Linda glanced at me. “My junior year,” I said, hoping no one would query further.

“How come you didn’t go?” Linda asked Jane.

“My ‘boyfriend,’” she turned and made air quotes, “was past the age-limit of acceptable dates.”

Linda looked at me again. I shrugged back at her. We both turned and watched as our roommate posed for pictures with a gaggle of friends in front of a gazebo.

That night, as LaVerne crept in at her usual late hour, I heard a male’s voice. My bunk was above Linda’s and directly across from LaVerne’s. I peered over to see two shapes cuddling in her bed. I blinked my eyes and stared up at the ceiling, willing to find the courage to kick the guy out.

“LaVerne.” Linda's hiss came from beneath my bunk.

“What?” LaVerne’s voice was not a whisper.

“He can’t stay here.”

Silence ensued. I feigned rolling over in my sleep to watch the male whisper something in LaVerne’s ear. “No, stay,” I heard her say.

He replied something and got up. Through my half-closed eyes, I could see that his profile looked like… Eric from the Fun Olympics? I refrained from opening my eyes wider to confirm my suspicions and hence giving myself away.

“Have a nice night, ladies,” he said with a sarcastic tone. Laverne followed him to the door. As soon as he left, she turned on the light.