Escapism (The Escapism Series) (5 page)

  My mother thoughtfully placed my breakfast on the kitchen table with a note. She was running late by the looks of it.
Enjoy! Sorry I had to rush. Can you please pick up some milk after school?
I tossed the note aside and ate in silence until I noticed that it was eight-twenty. I shoved the last piece of toast in my mouth and took a sip of orange juice to cleanse my palate. I picked up my book bag and threw in a clipboard with paper and the only working pen I could find without raiding my parents’ room. I wore a black leather jacket and lilac silk scarf—my soft and familiar security blanket for the day—before I embarked onto unchartered waters.

  My entire wardrobe was new, down to my shoes and book bag; out with the old, in with the new was my new take on life, which was beneficial to me and the foundation where I had donated a car full of clothes. The only article of clothing on me old enough to possess a history was my silk scarf given to me by my mother on my nineteenth birthday. By the look on her face, it meant something to her, thus it meant something to me.

  I walked over to Marla’s house and she popped out promptly just as she did in high school. We walked over to the subway, which was only ten minutes away.

  “Good morning, sunshine!” Marla chirped.

  “Morning, Marla. So I take it Calliope is bailing on her first day?”

  “She said she would likely come to school in the afternoon. Her exact words were, ‘Morning bad.’ Then she growled something undistinguishable before hanging up on me. What happened after the party?”

  “Nothing
happened
,” I replied in my best Marla imitation. “Nicholas drove me home and we talked. He’s…
different
.”

  “He’s hot—a ten out of ten on my list,” she beamed.

  “He is—isn’t he?” I latched on to Marla’s arm and rested my head on her shoulder. “We only just met and he’s all that I think about.”

  “Ah. Love at first sight,” she said, continuing, “I wonder when it’ll be my turn.”

  “It’s all in the hands of fate, M. Give it time.”

  “Hmm,” Marla hummed, continuing, “How profound of you.”

  As we approached the subway, we grabbed a coffee at Tim Horton’s and enjoyed the warm caffeine goodness on the ride. We had forgotten to buy our parking passes, but it was one of the first things Calliope had done because she completely loathed public transportation.

  We reached the final stop and the entire subway occupancy exited with us. Marla and I looked at one another, examining each other’s disposition. Instead of using the escalator, we raced for the stairs that led to the bus platform just as we had when we were kids. I won naturally, being the athlete that I was. The endless stairs were tall and steep, making it no easy feat to race without gasping entirely out of breath afterward.

  “Oh, you’re
so
lucky. You had a head start, and I had more people to weave through,” she whined.

  “All I hear are excuses, excuses. Just say it. Xenia, you won fair and square,” I teased.

  “Fine, but I want a rematch tomorrow,” Marla hissed through her teeth.

  “You never said it. I’m still waiting,” I prodded, spiritedly.

  “All right already. Xenia, you beat me. There. Happy?” she asked, scathingly.

  “Sure am.” I always beamed when I won. It wasn’t as if I had to win, but a little recognition never hurt.

  To our dismay, an enormous crowd awaited on the same platform—two buses worth of people to be exact, about to be crammed into one express bus.

  “Now
this
is why we need to register for a parking pass soon,” Marla said.

  “I couldn’t agree more.” I began thinking of other ways to help save the environment. For starters, carpooling with the girls.

  The second bus pulled up, immediately spewing dust and exhaust in the air. Fortunately for us, it was less occupied, allowing us to sit together before another rush of people stormed in. Marla rested her head on my shoulder for the fifteen-minute bus ride—a smooth ride from the subway station to York University’s Keele Campus.

  Once we arrived on campus, I nudged Marla off my shoulder from her power nap. Shortly after exiting the bus, I realized that we’d have to go our separate ways. On the bright side, we had one lecture together in the afternoon—Introduction to Psychology—a two-hour lecture, twice a week that Marla had managed to enroll in at the last minute.

  I pulled out my York U map and discretely looked for my first lecture room—Curtis Lecture Hall B. I had quite the trek to make according to the map.  First, I would have to locate Vari Hall and then make a right, a left, and then go up a few flights of stairs. It was a good thing I kept the map from o-week.

  “Let’s see your schedule,” I said, swiping a paper from Marla’s hand.

  “Health Psychology at nine, you don’t want to be late.” It was five to nine and the extent of our campus tour included the campus mall, gym, and student center, from what I could recall, anyway.

  “And what do you start with?” Marla asked, grabbing my schedule.

  “Intro to Economics—sounds
fun
,” she said, sarcastically.

  “Don’t get lost on your way to class,” I replied, mockingly.

  “Happy first day of college!” she beamed, excitedly.

  “Right back at you, sister.” I nudged her as we parted ways.

  I strolled off in search of my first class. I enjoyed seeing new faces around me, but I knew that a part of me would suffer without a daily dose of Marla and Calliope.

  As I reached Curtis Lecture Hall, I passed A and C, but no B. I was starting to feel like I was the rat and the campus was the maze—not a cool feeling. Eventually locating the hall, I approached the door that marked the start of my scholarly pursuits. Smiling, I entered my new classroom. Only a few students had arrived and there were many available seats. Some were talking on cell phones and others surfed the net.

  I daydreamed of Nicholas.

  I snapped out of my thoughts the moment the lecturer began his welcome speech.

  “Everyone, please take a copy of the course syllabus here at the front or pass some back to your peers. Welcome to your very first economics class; Intro to Econ, to be more precise in the event that some of you are in the wrong room. I’m Dr. Hawk.” At this point, a few students scrambled to leave and the remaining students giggled.

  “There’re always a few on the first day.” The professor smiled. “Now don’t let the rumors fool you. Economics isn’t boring unless you think it is. My goal here is to make this learning process enjoyable. With all your feedback and participation, I think we can have a very productive year. What do you all say?”

  The entire class clapped in approval and he proceeded to explain the syllabus in greater depth, gradually shifting into the days lecture.

  Although Dr. Hawk attempted to spark interest in his students—a difficult task to accomplish—the material inevitably was boring. My selection of business and economics classes were primarily prerequisites in preparation for courses to follow, leaving my electives open for fun courses with Marla and Calliope.

  Just as I had suspected, narcolepsy swept through the lecture hall like a plague. Even the professor yawned between each topic as if the sound of his voice inflicted a state of self-hypnosis. In my drowsy state, I began to wonder whether there was some mysterious gas emitted in each lecture hall, sedating us all in hopes of generating a monetary surplus in the coffee business or for the university with excess students in summer school making up lost credits—some conspiracy that would be. Since I usually lost concentration in high school after an hour, today marked a new record with only thirty minutes in. My mind had a mind of its own, it seemed.

  I fought off sleep until I could no longer hold out. But I did not fall asleep exactly. I involuntarily stared ahead as the room slowly smeared in a series of flickers and flashes of lights ending in complete darkness.

Xenia (Offline):

  The sound of dripping water accompanied the scent of ivory in the air, infusing my heightened senses. My skin felt cool and fresh while a soft cloth caressed my forehead down to my neck. I felt bombarded with an overflow of thoughts, yet I desperately attempted to keep my mind still as I heard faint whispers echoing all around me.

  “Betsy, make haste! We do have others in need of care,” demanded the woman, whose horrid voice was oddly familiar.

  “I am well aware of the others, Maggie,” replied a softer and equally familiar voice. Incoherent mumbling and silence followed and I felt as if I was falling from the sky.

Xenia (Online):

  My head throbbed and suddenly the classroom reappeared. I gasped for breath, rubbing my temples in pain. The girl beside me looked alarmed and shifted in her seat distancing herself. I coughed, forcing a smile, until she looked away. I decided that I would stay off the caffeine and get in eight hours of sleep at night. Hallucinations were never a good sign. Soon enough, I could ask Marla for psychological advice after a few lectures—I hoped they started with dream analysis.

  As the lecture ended, I left with the other students. I felt unsettled, but that all changed when I saw Nicholas on my way to meet Marla for our first class together. I stared at him long enough so that he noticed me. However awkward it felt, it worked and my nerves tingled in applause. I looked away after he acknowledged me, discretely peering over my shoulder as he spoke with someone by the glass doors adjacent to Blueberry Hill, one of the campus diners. He looked at me, signaling that he’d be a moment. I stood patiently, examining his brown leather jacket and loose-fit jeans; now he possessed an impeccable college style.

  Once he finished his discussion, he walked toward me. A gust of wind disheveled his hair across his face. I felt dizzy and inept; the prospects of conversation did not fully register until he stood before me.

  “Hey, you,” I said with a nervous smile.

  “Xenia, so good to see you,” he leaned in, kissing my cheek.

  I stood frozen for a moment, allowing the sensation to resurface to my face.

  “I was on my way to meet Marla. I just came from my first lecture, boy was that ever boring. What about you? Did you have class today? I mean, did you work on your thesis or—” I rambled, tensely. “I didn’t expect to run into you,” I whispered, although I thought there would be a big possibility, being that he was working on his masters in psych and I was lurking by the Behavioral Sciences Building—which was nowhere near where I had just been or even where my next class was located.

  “I actually saw you earlier,” Nicholas said.

  “Oh?” I wondered how I looked.

  “You were with Marla. I didn’t want to impose,” he said, politely.

  “But, you wouldn’t,” I replied, abruptly.

  His eyebrows furrowed in confusion. He waited readily for more.

  “You can’t possibly be an imposition on anyone,” I professed.

  Pleased by my response, his hardened jaw relaxed, allowing his lips to curve into a smile. I saw Marla standing by the glass doors and remembered we had a lecture in five minutes.

  “Are you free tomorrow night?” he asked, softly.

  “Yes,” I replied, swiftly.

  Nicholas smiled, agreeably. Immediately after, I remembered a prior obligation.

  “
Shoot
,” I exclaimed, continuing, “I have to check my work schedule first. I might have a few shifts left.”

  “Fair enough,” he smirked while he motioned with his face over to Marla who was growing impatient. “Your friend is waiting for you. Enjoy your first day.”

  “Thanks…you, too…err…with your research, I mean,” I mumbled.

  “You mean the mounds of research papers I have yet to read, while my practically untouched research proposal sits on the fence. If I could get in some actual research, it’d be great,” he grinned, taking a step back.

  “Thanks,” I beamed.

  “For what?”

  “For making freshman year seem like paradise,” I smiled and confidently made my exit.

  Nicholas grinned as he ran his hand through his hair. I was impressed with my tone and demeanor since flirting did not come naturally to us all as it did for Calliope. I briskly walked toward Marla, looking over my shoulder at Nicholas.

  Marla rushed over excitedly. “Oh. My. Friggin’ God! Did he ask you out?”

  “He did and I said
let me check my work schedule
. What’s wrong with me?”

  “I should slap you,” she shrieked. “That might help.”

  “Oh and I was hallucinating earlier about—”

  Marla cut me off. She tugged at our interlaced arms as we hurried toward Vari hall.

  “We can’t be late for this class. I heard from some guy that this prof will go all Socratic on our butts, and I don’t feel like being picked on, especially in a big lecture hall.”

  “Not one of
those
profs. Let’s sit in the back,” I said, thinking I had resolved our dilemma.

  “He usually targets the ones in the back and along the aisles. We’re better off sitting near the front,” she suggested.

  The lecture hall was already packed by the time we arrived. We were stuck with front row seats—the worst seats ever in my opinion, especially if you unexpectedly nodded off. I impressively tuned out most of the lecture as I replayed Nicholas asking me out. I couldn’t even whisper to Marla because the professor stood within a few feet from us at times as he paced from one side to the other. I didn’t want to make a spectacle of myself on our first day for being disruptive. My stomach grumbled angrily, reminding me to attain sustenance; I pulled out a homemade sandwich and scarfed it down without hesitation.

  I could barely recall a single thing presented as I tuned everyone out while my mind raced with thoughts. I came to the conclusion that I wasn’t seeing all that I should, and at times, I felt as though I was seeing far too much that was unexplainable.

  When the lecture hall cleared, I VT’d Calliope. “Can you pick us up?”

  She responded almost immediately. “Sure. I just finished working out. Meet me by Tait’s parking lot,” she said, casually. Calliope’s new home was the Tait McKenzie fitness facility.

  Marla and I walked and talked on our way over; there was definitely something about the air that smelled of college life—it was revitalizing.

  “Let’s check the line at the parking building,” I said.

  Marla replied, “Right! I almost forgot.”

  As we passed the building, the hours posted on the glass door read between eight and four. It was only one o’clock and the line was ridiculously long.

  “Let’s get here at eight tomorrow morning. I hate waiting in lines,” Marla said.

  “I hate waking up early
and
waiting in lines,” I snapped.

  “Fine. I’ll register us for parking passes and then Cal can pick you up, you lazy bum,” she teased.

  “I’m glad that’s settled,” I beamed, victoriously.

  When we reached the lot, Calliope was by her car playing with her phone.  She was likely organizing all her new contacts which were primarily the guys she’d picked up in the gym.

  “Ladies,” Calliope greeted. “Anything spectacular happen today?”

  “Not on my end,” Marla replied, winking at me.

  I was tired and not in any mood to explain myself. “Pretty uneventful, thanks for asking.”

  I shook my head at a surprised Marla; her lower lip quivered as if holding back information about my personal affairs was a difficult task.

  After ten minutes of loud music blaring in the car on our way home, Marla turned down the volume, unable to contain herself any longer.

  “Nicholas asked Xenia out,” she cried, covering her mouth in disbelief. With her head held low, she whispered, “Sorry, Z.”

  My jaw dropped in disbelief. “You snitch!”

  “What? She was going to find out sooner or later.”

  I sneered at her and she avoided eye contact, shamefully.

  “Oh, I get it. You thought I’d be pissed because a guy asked you out over me, right?” Calliope hissed.

  “Well, yes. Aren’t you?” I asked, amused.

  “Pissed? I’m happy for you, you idiot,” she said, dubiously.

  “See!” Marla intervened, “No harm, no foul.”

  I sighed, shaking my head. I reached from the back seat to turn up the volume once more.

  “Cal, can I get a ride with you tomorrow?” she muttered.

  “Sure, Marla,” she responded, grinning.

  I snickered in the backseat, knowing it was definitely going to be an early class. Calliope caught on, hissing, “It better not be early though.”

  “Come on, Cal. How early is too early?” she wailed.

  I sat silently in the backseat, separating myself from the pending argument as we pulled up in front of my house. I was the first to leave as they collaborated about their schedules for the next day.

  I bid farewell before hopping out of Calliope’s convertible with my book bag in hand. “Later, guys.”

  As I walked up the pebble path, I realized just how tired I was. Calliope shouted, “Ciao, Xeni!” before she gunned her ostentatious convertible down the street.

  My mother wasn’t home judging by the looks of it—no car out front and quietness all around. Just as I suspected, the house was empty and peaceful, exactly the way I liked it. I grabbed a bowl of cereal and turned on the television, browsing aimlessly from channel to channel, unimpressed by daytime television. The combination of food and television brought on a state of drowsiness. I nuzzled between a pillow and blanket, and quickly fell asleep. Upon awakening, I felt unrested as I rolled off the sofa bouncing forward in a bumpy motion. In a semi-sleepy state, I washed my face with cool water in an attempt to awaken every cell in my body. I looked up at the clock and was surprised as my intended siesta turned into a fifteen-hour slumber. It was strange having not realized how tired I really was.

  Every cell in my body twitched in need of caffeine. Thankfully, the automatic pre-set did its thing. I could smell a pot brewing in the kitchen. The first sips were the most invigorating, heightening all of my senses in preparation for the day ahead. After I finished my coffee, I dragged my heavy feet up to my room and prepared for the day.

  Not sure of what to do with myself, I deliberated on my comfy bed where most of my usual brainstorming occurred. I decided to go for a jog, having extra time before class. After I put on a sweater and track pants, I removed my Cyclopod from its charger and activated the wireless earphones for my running pleasure.

  The air was crisp and dewy during my thirty-minute jog. My mind cleared as each minute passed; before I knew it, I bounced up the stairs to my front door full of energy and in need of a hot shower—my body yearned for it.