Lessons Read online

  She shrugged, her long earrings making little tink, tink sounds against each other as she moved. "Okay, I guess. I've got some asshole for Bio. But, I guess that's what happens when you're a Freshman. God, I hope I get through the year without fucking killing anyone. Hey, you gonna go to Mike's party tonight?" I shrugged, sitting back in my chair.

  "I was just sitting here thinking about Brian and Heather and Toni. So sad, you know? Me and Heather were supposed to be roomies. Instead I got Mother Theresa. Not happy about this."

  "Yeah, it's sad. If you're going to be stupid though,"

  "Come on, Car." I sat up in my chair, leaning my elbows on the table as I looked deep into my friend's blue eyes.

  "Do you really think they thought that party would be their last? I don't know." I sat back with a thud. "I just wonder about all of us sometimes. Is it right?"

  "Your mother would absolutely be having an orgasm to hear you talk like this, you know."

  "Yeah. I know."

  "Come on, Chase, baby. Don't let me down now that we finally have some fucking freedom." She looked at me for a long time. I wasn't sure what she was expecting me to say, so I just shrugged. "Come on. Let's get something to eat. I'm so hungry."

  We found a place that sold pizza, and got in line. I leaned back against the railing that separated the lines of the place, my hands dangling on the other side as I looked around.

  "So who was the chick from the party?" Carrie shrugged.

  "Hell if I know. I don't even know her name now. I think it starts with a D or something. Darla? Doreen? Fuck it. I don't know."

  "Is she your newest squeeze?" I grinned.

  "Hell no! She was just fun that night, and not even all that fun." She pulled out a small mirror out of her bag, looking at her face. "Shit, my make-up is melting." She pulled out a Kleenex, wiping the heavy eye shadow off before it streamed down, quickly applying new color.

  "My god, you're obsessed." I shook my head in wonder.

  "Yeah, and?" she put her menagerie of make-up away, and looked at me with a dark red smile.

  "How much do you spend a month on that shit?" I waked forward as the line moved, taking my same stance when we stopped. Again she shrugged.

  "Too much."

  "So what is it this week, Car? Gay, straight? You confuse the crap out of me."

  "Yeah. Adam asked the same thing last night. I don't know. I guess it's just whatever see, whatever gets me going, you know?"

  "I guess."

  We had finished our lunches, and Carrie had to hurry to her next class. With nearly an hour remaining, I hung out, pulling out a piece of paper deciding to write a little. No one had ever read any of my poetry, nor heard any of my songs. I had yet to meet someone that I thought was worthy of that honor. Actually, I was just chicken. I didn't think anything I did was any good and couldn't take the criticism for something that had come from the heart.

  I hummed out the music as I re-read the lyrics I had written, words about how alone I felt, about how I wondered where exactly I was drifting. How life can make you feel like you're being swallowed up and spit out whole. Don't get me wrong. I'm not one of those depressed, let's go jump from a bridge to make a point kind of teens. Nope. Just confused about life.

  I glanced at my watch.

  "Shit." Well, two teachers would be getting the wrong impression of me today. I hurriedly jammed my notebook and pen into my bag and ran out of the cafeteria, headed for Psych 101.

  By the grace of God I managed to make it in the door exactly at 12:00. I may have been out of breath and wanting to faint, but I was there. I found my seat in the back row, glancing around at the handful of students that were already there. It appeared that to be on time in this class was the rarity.

  I took out my notebook and continued to work on my song, staring off into space as I heard the tune in my head once more. I could play this one on the piano, or the guitar. I was sure they had a piano here somewhere. Maybe I could coerce my folks to bring up my keyboard when they came up for Parent Weekend that was coming up in a few days. It was pretty big and I wondered if Natalie would mind.

  "Hello, everyone. I want you all to close your eyes." My eyes shot up at the sound of the woman's voice. At the front of the room stood a surprisingly young woman. I think I had read a grad student taught this section of Psych. "Come on, don't just look at me like I'm crazy." That got a couple of chuckles, but everyone closed their eyes. I kept one slightly open. Did I know her from somewhere? "Now I want you to imagine that there are no mental hospitals. I want you to conjure up a picture in your head, and imagine that the person you're sitting next to is absolutely crazy, I mean a real loon." She looked around at all of us, arms behind her back, slightly rocking on her heels.

  I lowered my chin to the desk so I could get an even better look at her without her seeing me. She had blonde hair, just below her ears, but all one length. She had one side tucked behind her ear revealing a simple gold hoop earring. She wore a light green sleeveless top, her skin tan with arms that looked well toned. Her white slacks were well fitted without being tight. She looked comfortable.

  "Okay, now open your eyes. But don't tell me what you saw or thought of. I want you to think of it as I take role. Oh, since we're on the subject of names, I'm Dagny Robertson, you can call me Miss R or Miss Robertson. Up to you. I'm a grad student here to get my masters and doctorate simultaneously in Psychology. Okay," she grabbed a list off the podium and began to call out names. I listened for a second before her voice faded out in my mind, and I began to try and figure out what this feeling of familiarity was. I know I had heard that name before, but for the life of me couldn't remember where.

  "Hello? Chase Marin? Earth to Chase?"

  My head shot up as did my arm. "Here." She smiled.

  "Good to know." She looked at me, her eyes narrowing for a second, cocking her head slightly. It almost looked like she was in the middle of a thought, shrugged, then went on with the list.

  Once she finished with role, she walked out from behind the podium and began to walk the aisle, looking at different people as she did, asking them questions about what they thought of and why. "Okay. You all have come up with some pretty good ideas and thoughts about the world of the insane. What you don't know is that about a third of our walking population would be considered mentally ill in some way." She looked at all of us to see what we thought about that. There were murmurs and chuckles quietly throughout the class. "Pretty amazing, isn't it?" The girl next to me raised her hand. "Yes?" she walked toward us.

  "So how many of us in here could be considered crazy?" Miss Robertson brought a finger up to her chin, tapping as she lost herself in thought. Suddenly, unexpectedly, she lurched at the girl, hands out wide, eyes open with a scream. "Jesus!" the girl screamed.

  "Nope. Just crazy." The TA laughed as she patted the girl's shoulder. "It could be any of us, really." She told the class. I watched her, listened to her talk. I could not shake the feeling of déjà vu I had. It was creepy.

  As Dagny continued on, the feeling intensified. What she had to say was very interesting, and she obviously knew her stuff. She was amusing and intelligent. But I still couldn't shake it. She had the slightest bit of an accent, one that I had heard before. Was it Texas? More south?

  Finally the class was over, and everyone was getting their things together, including me. I stood, slinging my backpack over my shoulder, headed down the aisle toward the door. The TA stood by the podium talking with students as they passed, or those who stopped to talk with her. I got closer and closer, looking at her without trying to make it obvious. She was talking with another student, but her eyes fixed on me, and she gave me the slightest bit of a nod as I passed. Confused, I headed to my next class.

  * * *

  Mike sat across from me, his hamburger in hand as he chewed some fries. "What's her name?" he mumbled around the food.

  "Robertson. Dagny." I said, absently playing with the straw of my Coke.

  "So what's the deal?" he swallowed the bite, wiped his mouth with the napkin then took a massive bite from the burger.

  "God, that's gross. Your mouth isn't even big enough for that." I watched in amazed disgust. He grinned, mashed food seeping out between his top and bottom teeth. "Yeah, I'm impressed, you pig." I sipped from my drink, my mind still wandering through people I've known and seen. "Just can't figure it out."

  "Why don't you ask her?" I shrugged.

  "I don't know. Don't want to look stupid, I guess." I sighed. I had been accused of being a dweller before, and I was proving that they were right on now. Finally deciding it didn't matter, I finished my dinner.

  "Well, I talked to Doug today, and he wants to hear you sing."

  My head shot up, my eyes accusing. "Mike! You promised."

  "Come on, Chase. You're so good. Please?" he gave me his puppy dog eyes, which by now he should know did nothing. I sighed.

  "Shit."

  "You know you want to do it, so why don't you? I'll be there, too." I lowered my eyes, and he lowered his head to try and catch them. "It'll be just me and Doug, honest." I looked at him, sizing him and his sincerity up.

  "Fine. But only one song."

  "Yes!" he stood, quickly pumping his fist in the air.

  "You're embarrassing the shit out of me, Mike." I mumbled, looking at everyone looking at him. He sat in his chair, a childish smile on his face. He ran a hand through his dark hair making the normally unruly look even more unruly. "Get a hair cut."

  The garage was small and stuffy, the air hot and heavy. Mike sat with the bassist in their band, Casually In Debt, or CID as it was affectionately known. I stood with the mic in front of me, millions of songs running through my head, trying to figure out what the hell I wanted to sing, Melo in my hand. God,
why was I doing this?

  "Okay, Chase, any time you're ready." Doug smiled at me, gathering is mid-back length hair to bring it up on the sides in a ponytail at the crown of his head, the hair underneath shaved. I sighed heavily, then took a step toward the mic. I closed my eyes and let the song flow out between my lips.

  "Hey, Jude," as the song went on, I felt myself become lighter and lighter, my eyes never opening. I had never really sang for people before, but as the song took hold, my hands strumming along, the nerves died at the tip of my tongue, lost in the words and meaning.

  I drug out the last chord, slowly opening my eyes. Doug and Mike sat in their seats, neither moving or saying a word. Finally Doug cleared his throat.

  "Wow. Sign on the dotted line." I grinned, my shyness coming back tenfold. "Welcome." He stood, walking over to me. "How do you feel about being our new lead singer?" I looked at him, eyes wide in surprise.

  "Wait, I thought I was just coming to audition for backup?" I looked to Mike for guidance.

  "Well, initially you were. There's no way I can let you go, though. Shit, no way." The guitarist turned to my boyfriend, a huge smile plastered to his face. He reached up and stroked his goatee, smiling. I smiled back, not sure what to say.

  The dorm was quiet, everyone wanting to start the year with good study habits and decent bedtimes. I knew it was a matter of time before that changed, but for the time being, it worked. I put my key into the lock and opened the door. It was only near midnight so Natalie was still awake, studying at her desk. She turned to me with a smile.

  "Hello, Chase. Thank goodness you're okay. I was beginning to worry." I smiled as I changed for bed.

  "Nope. I'm fine. Just had an audition to go to." My roommate quickly looked away when she realized I was taking my shirt off, her nose buried in her text book.

  "Oh? An audition for what?" hearing me slip into bed, she turned to look at me again. I laid on top of the sheet in a tank and pair of boxers.

  "For a band. I guess I'm their new singer." I said, bringing my hands up behind my head. I stared at the one single poster I had hung up, a poster I had gotten at a Melissa Etheridge concert last summer. That had been so much fun, and my first taste of the great one.

  "Really? You sing?" Natalie turned her chair around to face me fully, her hands clasped in her lap, silver cross catching the light from her desk lamp. "I saw your guitar the other day. You play?"

  "Yup."

  "Oh, thank you, Lord." She smiled up at the ceiling. I looked up to see what she was looking at; only water stained tile. I looked back at her. "Our bible study group meets every Tuesday night to worship, and we're talking about, see I'm the president of our little group, we're talking about bringing musical guests in to entertain us."

  Oh, lord. I saw where this was headed. I steeled myself for the question.

  "Would you? I mean, could you sing and play for us, Chase? Please?" she brought her hands up, clasped together as she begged.

  "Well, I'm not that good, really," I stuttered.

  "Oh, I beg to differ. If you made the lead singer of a band, I bet you're a wonderful singer. And to have your very own musical instrument, that is a gift from God, Chase. Please share it?" I looked at her, her big doe eyes begging me. How could I possibly say no to that?

  "Okay. You get me music a head of time so I can lean some, and I'll do it."

  "Oh!" Natalie jumped up from her chair, ran over to the bed, nearly throwing herself on me as she gave me a massive hug. "Thank you, thank you, thank you. Bless you, Chase. That is so nice of you." She stepped away from the bed finally, smiling down on me as if I was a saint myself. "I must go to bed now. Early class." She switched off the desk light, and I scooted down on the bed, fully expecting quiet as we both went to sleep. Not to be.

  Natalie grabbed two towels from her little closet, folding them both into perfect padded little squares, placing them just so on the ground, then kneeling down, a knee on both towels. She clasped her hands together, closed her eyes, and began to mumble her prayers. I watched her, absolutely amazed. I thought I heard my name spoken, then she turned to look over her shoulder at me, that huge smile firmly in place before turning back to her bed, elbows resting on her mattress. She mumbled on for a few more minutes before startling me with a loud, "Amen." She climbed into bed, and not another sound was heard out of her.

  * * *

  I re-folded the wash cloth and stuck it on my forehead again. The weather seemed to be getting hotter the closer to fall we got. I didn't understand this for a second.

  "Does it need to be sprayed down again?" Carrie asked, the water bottle in hand just in case. She had just finished spraying herself down as we sat on campus under a tree, the only immediate shade we could find. It was way too hot, today's temperatures reaching the one hundred mark, and the dry desert air didn't help.

  "Why did my parents feel the need to live in an oven?" I wondered aloud, laying back on the grass, the wet towel cooling off my head. We had our usual break between classes for lunch, and decided to have a picnic.

  "So tell me about this TA of yours again. What's the deal with her?" Carrie asked, taking a bite from her taco.

  "Well, I don't know. She just really looks familiar. Can't place it. Don't you hate that?" she nodded, wiping some cheese from her lip.

  "She cute? I mean you said she's young, right?" she took a drink from her Sprite, wiping her mouth again. "I've never had sex with a teacher-type before." She stared out over campus, the wheels in her mind smoking away.

  "That is so wrong." I pushed her shoulder. She smiled and shrugged.

  "Hey, if she's cute."

  "She is." I readjusted the towel to accommodate a sip from my Gatorade.

  "Hey I heard about you and CID. Congrats." My friend smiled one of her huge grins for me. "I'm so happy for you, Chase. You're so good, it's about time you did something with it." She crumbled the trash from her lunch and tossed it into a near-bye trash can before reclining next to me, arms above her head.

  "Yeah, well I'm not so sure what I think about it." I sat up, pulling my knees to my chest, wiping my forehead with the towel that was quickly drying.

  "You're going to do fine, you know that. There is absolutely nothing that can go wrong. You have to believe that. When is the first gig?" Carrie pulled a pack of cigarettes out of her bag and lit one. I watched, hating when she lit up, but really couldn't say anything. That was one thing I was forever grateful I hadn't started.

  "We have a show at some bar called Gotfry's on Friday night." I leaned back against the tree behind me, closing my eyes. The heat was giving me such a headache.

  "Wow. That soon. Good for you."

  "Yeah."

  Carrie left to head to class, and I stayed where I was, staring up into the sky. I'd been at UA for just under a week, and so far was enjoying my stay. Part of me felt as if I were in a prison of sorts. My father had given a me a stern lecture the night before I had left that he expected to have two professional daughters. Since the all mighty Carla was already headed for her M.D., that meant I could either follow that path, or go into law, or pick some other thing that I had no interest in. I hated the pressure of successful parents. It wasn't fair. What if I wanted to be a ditch digger? Or just a bum on the street? Neither of these were true, mind you, but what if? I felt I should have that right.

  I glanced at my watch and saw it was time to head to Psych.

  Everyone seemed to figure out where they were supposed to be at noon on Monday, Wednesday and Friday. The class was a bit smaller than it had been Monday, which was fine as it was a large class. I sat in my same seat, way in the back, notebook already out along with my Psych book.

  The song I had started the other day was waiting for me. I hadn't had a chance to work on it since. I looked over the lines, closing my eyes as I sang in the dark cave that was my mind, tapping my fingers on my desk in time. Suddenly I felt someone's presence very near me. Slowly opening my eyes, I looked up at Miss Robertson. I smiled, she smiled back. She was staring at me, her head slightly cocked to the side, and opened her mouth about to speak.

  "Miss R? Can you come here for a moment?" her head shot up in the direction of someone sitting near the front, smiled at me again, and walked away. I watched her go, wondering what she had stopped to talk to me about. I couldn't imagine I had already gotten myself in trouble. After speaking with the other student for a moment, she walked up to the podium. Miss R looked good today in a skirt that reached to just below her knee, a dark gray color with a satin maroon top, sleeveless yet again.