Lessons Read online

  Table of Contents

  PART 1

  PART 2

  PART 3

  PART 4

  PART 5

  PART 6

  PART 7

  PART 8 and 9

  PARTS 10 and 11

  PART 12

  PART 13

  PART 14

  PART 15

  PART 16

  LESSONS

  BY

  KIM PRITEKEL

  with ALEXA HOFFMAN

  Ebook by

  PDAFiction.com

  Disclaimers: These two may look familiar, but we all know they belong to me. Feel free to play for a bit though.

  Subtext. What do you think?

  Violence: Nah.

  Note: For those of you who have been asking about Journals, it's in progress, and will be out.

  If you'd like to tell me what a wonderful writer I am or that I royally suck, feel free at:

  [email protected]

  Thank you to some very observant readers who noticed my mistakes before I really got going. : )

  LESSONS

  PART 1

  July 1992

  Tucson, Arizona

  "I CAN'T, DAG. I just can't." I cried, hanging on to the side of the pool with everything I had in me. The overhead sun was hot, and it made me sweat underneath my orange floats around my biceps.

  "Of course you can, Chase. Come on. Swim to me." I wanted to cry, but didn't dare; not in front of my fourteen year old babysitter. She was new this summer, our first year together. Dagny was everything to me, my friend, my hero. She was so pretty and fun. I didn't want her to think I was a baby.

  "Please, can we just get out now?" I clung a little tighter to the side, glancing around until I saw the ladder just five feet away. I could try for it. Dagny would get mad, though. I don't want her mad at me.

  "We'll get out soon, hon. You said you wanted to learn to swim. What happened to that?" I looked at my babysitter again. She stood in the middle of the pool, her short blonde hair slicked back fromface, green eyes looking concerned. I looked at the part of her that was out of the water. Would I ever look like that? She wore a green bathing suit. My mom said she was going to be short when she grew up, but I didn't care. She was perfect. She knew so much about everything, and knew so manygames and fun things to do. My best friend Carrie wished she had Dagny as a babysitter, too.

  "I do." I pouted. I did want to swim, and didn't want to disappoint her, or make her sad at me. I didn't know what to do. "But I can't, Dagny. I just can't." Dagny swam over to me, standing right in front of me, but bending down to look me in the eye. She brushed some hair off my face. She said once that my hair was the darkest hair she had ever seen. That made me happy.

  "Honey, you never fail if you quit. But then you never win, either." She smiled at me, and I smiled, too. She had such a nice smile.

  "Okay." Her smile grew bigger as she backed away from me again. I can do this, I have to. I never want to let Dagny down. My mommy gets mad at me all the time because she says I don't try for her.

  I turned so I was facing the rest of the pool, taking a deep breath. I let go of the side with one hand, but wasn't ready to let go with both hands yet. Dagny smiled wider, giving me encouragement.

  "Come on, Chase. You can do it, I know you can." I nodded, not feeling at all as confident in my own ability as my babysitter did. I let go with the other hand, immediately wanting to panic as I felt my body drop in the water a little bit, the water clear up to my chin.

  "Oh, no! Dagny!" I really began to panic as I felt one of the floaties on my arm sliding down, my body lowering with it. "Help!" Water was going everywhere, up my nose, in my mouth and eyes. I wanted to cry, and felt my eyes stinging with tears and water. I felt strong arms wrap around me, bringing me up to the surface again and to the wall.

  "Shh, it's okay. I've got you." I cried, burying my head against her chest, so angry with myself. I didn't know how to express it to Dagny, so worried she wouldn't like me anymore and would stop being my babysitter.

  "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to, honest."

  "I know, Chase. It's okay. Try again another time."

  PRESENT DAY

  University of Arizona

  "Yes, mom my room is fine. No, haven't met my roommate yet. Don't really want to, either. Why couldn't I just get a single? I know, I know. Yeah, see you guys next weekend. I love you, too. Bye." I pushed end on the phone and plopped down on the narrow mattress.

  I had been in the dorm for an hour and already my mom was trickling into my college life. She had called me on this cell phone nearly every five minutes on the drive here, which wouldn't be bad except it's only just over a half an hour drive. Personally I thought she kept calling to make sure I was actually going to the university and not pull off on some side road to join the local circus.

  I thought about going to school out of state, but didn't really want to be here in the first place, so didn't want to waste anymore of my parent's money than I had to. I was lucky enough to have folks in a position where they could help me as it was.

  I was a bit of a black sheep in my family. My older sister, Carla, the apple of my father's eye, was going to the University of California at Berkley to follow in his footsteps and get her medical degree, my father, a pediatrician and my mother an administrator at my old high school. The Marin's were quite educated, and happy to be so. But not me. Chase Marin was known as the "lacking" one in the family. I love my family, don't get me wrong. I just didn't like the way they felt a need to push me in directions I really didn't want to go in.

  Hell, I'd make them happy and go to college.

  I grabbed the largest of my two suitcases and tossed it onto the bed. Looking around, I saw that both of us, my roommate and I, had one dresser each, and a tiny closet at the foot of our beds. Good thing I packed light. As I re-folded a shirt, the small phone rang out to the tune of Beethoven's 'Ode to Joy'. My mother had bought the phone for me, which I had been happy about, but now it felt like more of a leash than a device for added freedom.

  "Hello?"

  "Hey, babe. What's up?"

  "Hey, Mike." I sat on the bed, a small smile coming to my face at the familiar voice of my boyfriend. We'd been dating semi-serious for nearly a year, and my parent's thought he was the greatest thing since Swiss cheese as he was already a student at UA, and they figured he'd be a good influence on me. If only they knew he was nearly on academic probation. "I'm just unpacking." I dropped the shirt to my lap as I sat down on the bed.

  "Hey, want to go out for something to eat? I've arranged a party later tonight to celebrate."

  "Sure. Celebrate what?"

  "Whatever."

  "Great. Sure, count me in."

  "So who did you get as a roomy?" I could hear the smile in his voice, and could imagine the smirk on his face.

  "Hell if I know. She hasn't bothered to get here yet. She can stay lost for all I care. God, I don't want to be here." I flopped back, staring up at the ceiling, dirty marks around where posters used to be. I wondered what they had been of.

  "I know. Your folks are happy and won't give you shit, so suck it up."

  "Yeah, thanks. You're no help whatsoever."

  "I do my best. I gotta run, just wanted to see if you got here since you called and everything."

  "Sorry. I forgot." I rolled my eyes.

  "Later."

  "See ya." I ended the call, turned the phone off. I didn't want to be found, just wanted to crawl into bed and sulk all alone. I glanced toward the door, spotted my guitar case standing against the wall. Without a moments hesitation, I got up and grabbed it. Melo, my trusty acoustic in hand, I sat on the floor, positioned my fingers, and began to play, softly humming along.

  As night fell, I finished putting the last of m
y clothes away, slamming the dresser drawer closed with my hip and heading to the mirror on the back of the door to the room. Mike would be there soon, so I figured I should start getting ready to go. My hair, that I had let grow out since I chopped it last summer completely freaking out my parents in doing so, was now to just below my shoulders. I gathered it up in my hand and tied it back into a ponytail. I stared at my face, my eyes reflecting back at me. Mike loved my eyes, saying they were an awesome shade of blue. I didn't mind them. The only one in my family to have such light eyes, everyone else having hazel or brown. I swear my mom and the milk man have some serious explaining to do. She says no, but who knows.

  I decided to change out of my grubby, comfy jeans and put on a pair of cargo shorts and tank. It was still ridiculously hot out, and I was anxiously waiting for fall and winter to take some of the heat away. Slipping my tennis shoes on, I was ready to go.

  I reached for the doorknob only to have my hand nearly whacked off by the door itself. Stunned, I took a step back, cradling my hand against my chest. A head appeared around the door, eyes wide as saucers.

  "Oh my goodness! Did I hurt you?"

  "Well, I think it still works." I wiggled my fingers around, moving my hand up and down at the wrist. "Who the hell are you?"

  "Oh," the girl stepped into the room, her hand to her mouth. "You mustn't say things like that."

  "Like what?" I put my hands on my hips, ready to pounce.

  "Hell is a place, not a word to be thrown around." You've got to be kidding me. The girl pushed the door open fully, standing there with a large duffel bag and two suitcases. She wore a dress, sleeveless, hanging on her stick-thin body ending just above her ankles. A large silver cross was hanging from a chain just above her breasts. "Hello." She smiled. "My name is Natalie."

  "Um, hi, Natalie. Chase." I extended my left hand, not wanting to chance her doing any more damage to the other one.

  "Oh, you're a southpaw just like me." She smiled, her brown eyes twinkling. I looked down at my hand, wondering what the hell she was talking about. She wiggled her left hand for me and I smiled.

  "Uh, sure." So was Hitler. "Look, I gotta get going. My stuff's all unpacked, so anything left is yours to take."

  Okay. Thank you, Chase. That's very nice of you." She smiled again, the biggest damn smile I'd ever seen. What was this girl on?

  "Later."

  I closed my eyes as the satisfying taste of the Mich as it slid down my throat.

  "Ahhh. Oh, that's good." I smiled at the bottle in my hand, denied for nearly two weeks as my parent's had taken me on a short vacation just before school, watching my every move and consumption.

  About ten people had shown up so far at Mike's apartment that he shared with his friend Mario. They had a party every semester to get things going, and it was just a matter of time before everyone else showed up. That's how we has met, I had come to the party last year with my friend Carrie. She knew a friend of a friend of a friend of Mike's, and had introduced us. Carrie sat next to me, her eyes closed as she exhaled, a puff of white smoke escaping her mouth. She smiled and looked at me, extending her hand to me. I took the small white roach and took a drag. I cringed as the harsh smoke burned my lungs and throat, couching slightly. I rarely did pot, but felt the need to tonight. I handed the joint to Mike and leaned back in my chair.

  "How do you feel?" she asked, bringing up her hand to the girl next to her, running her fingers through her hair.

  "Okay, I guess. That shit tastes funny tonight, though." I glanced at Mario who had just taken a drag. "They better not have put anything in it." Carrie shrugged, her short red hair falling into her face.

  "Who knows. Right now I don't really give a fuck." She reached over to the girl who's hair she'd been playing with, and grabbed her, bringing her face to her own, their kiss large and sloppy.

  The party had been going on for quite a bit before I got there. I had promised myself I would try to bring my partying to a decent level, nearly getting kicked out of high school my senior year for going to school drunk too many times. I had been so ashamed at the look of disappointment on my mom's face. She had handled it well, taking me to my Saturday school class every time, not letting the lectures get too out of hand. They had done so much for me my entire life the least I could do was keep my promise.

  "Here." I looked at Mike who was handing me the joint. I took it, stared down at it, then shook my head, handing it to Carrie when she finally finished her impromptu make out session.

  She smiled at me, happily taking the small joint from my fingers. More people began to show up, the party swinging fully into action. With a smile I downed the rest of my beer, grabbed another, and began to mingle.

  Why is it that parents feel the need to tell their children about all the dangers in the world, sickos, zits, periods, how to clean out the fish tank but they never tell you about hangovers? I stumbled up the last set of stairs to find my dorm room, my hand sliding along every wall to help steady myself. I was so glad Mike lived within walking distance of campus. There was no way in hell he could have driven me home and us make it alive. I grinned like an idiot; my mom would have been so proud.

  I dug in my pocket for the key to the room, figuring that Natalie was more than likely asleep at, I glanced at my watch then glanced again. Couldn't read it. Hell, who knew what time it was.

  After the third try, I managed to get the key in the hole, turned it, falling in with the opening door. The room was dark, smelling of fresh soap and shampoo. I glanced at my roommate's bed just in time to see her on the ground, kneeling beside her bed.

  "Amen." She stood, climbed under the sheet, her long nightgown looking terribly warm to sleep in. Within a few moments she was asleep, and I stumbled to my own bed, realizing I hadn't bothered to put any sheets on it before I had left. Shit. Deciding sleep was more important than being appropriate, I plopped down face first, and was out.

  * * *

  Classes were set to start, and as I rushed around campus to find my first one, I realized this wasn't the auspicious beginning to my year that I'd hoped for. I pulled my backpack on a bit higher as I ran.

  Breathless, I leaned against the doorway of Dr. Bordeux's Advanced French class. I had taken French during my entire academic career thus far, falling in love with the language as a young child. This was one of the few things that I really looked forward to at UA.

  Everyone was already settled in, some talking to the professor. I tried to sneak in, to no avail.

  "Excusez-moi, manque. Est-ce que je puis vous aider?" he looked at me expectantly. His hair, once dark, was beginning to gray, the shirt he wore pressed and starched, slacks impeccable along with newly shined Wingtips.

  "Yeah. I belong in this class-"

  "En français, s'il vous plaît." He put a hand on his hip, looking at me with disdain.

  "Oh, sorry. Of course in French." I cleared my throat, taking a step toward his desk to explain that I did belong in his class and was sorry I was late.

  "Je vous laisserai cette fois, mais pas encore. Learn to show up on time."

  "I'm sorry, Dr. Bordeux. It won't happen again."

  "It better not. Get in here."

  I took a seat near the back of the room, my usual place, looked around to see who I was surrounded with, and would be stuck with for the next few months. We had a pretty good mixture of your bookworms, outcasts, etc. I wondered if I'd make any sort of connection with any of these folks. I always did that, no matter where I was. I always wondered what went on inside their heads, what they were thinking and why. What made them tick? Would they like me? Why or why not. Why were they here, for what purpose-

  "Listen! Vous devez écouter et cesser de parler." He looked at me. He and I were not going to connect, just had that feeling.

  As the class continued, I realized the Bordeux knew his stuff, but took no crap. As long as I paid attention and did my work, we'd be fine. Part of me couldn't keep the slight grin off my face. It felt good to be apart of
something again. For so long I had been disjointed, not caring, or caring but about the wrong things. The faces of my three friends flashed before my eyes, their names never forgotten on my tongue. I'll never forget that night, either, the night that really started to wake me up to where I was headed.

  Brian, Toni and Heather had all been driving home from Rick's party. I was supposed to go but had come down with the flu. I have never in my life been so happy to be sick, nor will I ever feel so guilty, either. Brian had been driving, his Range Rover heading down the highway at a speed of sixty-two miles per hour, the driver and the other two drunk and high, a water tanker coming the opposite way. The driver couldn't react fast enough to the SUV that had drifted over to his side of the road, the heavy tanker, like a tank, not real maneuverable. There had been nothing he could do.

  I had found out about it that night, my mom waking me up to tell me the tragic news. It had taken me so long to get over the loss and the realization that I would have been in that car with them, not one of them surviving. I had been devastated, having grown up with all three, going to preschool together, and then on to elementary, middle and finally high school. Heather was supposed to follow me and Carrie to UA. Not to be.

  I made my way to a campus cafeteria, not having to head to my next class until noon. Carrie was supposed to meet me, and I just hoped she could find the place. Often she couldn't find her way out of a paper bag.

  "Hey, you." I turned, glad to finally see a familiar face. I wasn't real keen on a bunch of strangers.

  "Hey. I was just wondering if you were going to show up."

  "Ha ha. Yes, I found it, and yes I'm late. So sue me." Carrie sat in the chair opposite mine, dropping her bag on the table with a thud. "So how are your classes going so far?"

  "Well, I've only had one, and so far so good, I guess. It's just going to be a long year. Two hours of Dr. Bordeaux at a time, I may just have to kill myself. You?"