Firsts

     The alarm on my iphone began to sound at 8:30 am sharp one faithful Monday morning. I awoke out of a restless sleep to come to the realization that it was my first official day as a University student. The butterflies in my stomach flew in circles around each other as I gathered the strength to get out of bed. In the shower, I let the hot beads of water fall onto my face as I tried to mentally prepare myself for the day's upcoming events. "I can do this, I'm smart enough, I'm supposed to be here," I repeated to myself as I went through my regular morning routine. I chose to not make a large fashion statement on my first day of classes and went for black leggings, a navy sweatshirt and jean jacket. I decided to tame my unruly curly locks with a straightener, and applied natural looking make up to complete my outfit. As I gathered my books and slipped into my trusty brown moccasins, I took one more glance at myself in the mirror. I was taken aback by the girl infront of me. It was one of those moments in time where everything chaotic stops, and for a second you see how far you've come. How much things have changed. I smiled at my reflection before grabbing my keys and heading out the door.

     The morning weather was crisp and cloudy as I made my way to class. The first few fall leaves had begun to fall along the path leading towards the university campus. As I entered the campus the atmosphere changed from peaceful to rushed. The amount of people weaving in and out of cars, on bikes, on their phones, walking to and from classes seemed like something from a movie. Twice I had to dodge oncoming bikers who were not paying attention, or students who would suddenly stop walking to look at where they were - as if they had been in a sleepless daze walking to their classes. I finally found the ivy covered building that housed most of my English classes for the semester. I opened the large wooden door and stepped inside the building.

     My classroom was easier to find than I thought it would be, and I was therefore twenty minutes early for my class. As I entered the classroom I suddenly felt substantially under dressed in my leggings and jean jacket. Infront of me was the largest collection of hipsters that I had ever seen, sitting in their fashionable clothes, discussing the upcoming texts that would be introduced in the class. Intimidated, I chose the closest seat I could find. Unfortunately it was beside a very uptight girl with an uncomfortably looking tight bun ontop of her head, and bright red lips exposing perfectly straight white teeth. I looked around the room and turned to the girl and attempted to make conversation.
     "Is this your first class to?" I asked innocently. The red lipped vixen replied with a laugh and returned to reading over the class syllabus. I frowned at her response and awkwardly turned my chair towards the front of the classroom. Just then the classroom quieted down as the professor entered and began to speak right away. Talk of Greek methology and the words "1066 Norman Conquest" were the only words that I could understand from the professor's extremely perplexing vocabulary. It was not that he did not speak perfect English, it was the fact that he used such big words that I had no idea what he was talking about. I looked fearfully around the classroom at the other students who were savagely writing down notes and answering questions correctly. "Who the hell knew this much about Greek methology?" I thought to myself. I looked around the classroom to see if anyone was as lost as I was. I turned around to see a pretty brunette girl with brown eyes give me a silly "I have no idea what I'm doing" face and shrug at me. I immediately smiled and began to laugh and shook my head at her so she understood that I had no idea myself. The girl beside her looked at her to see who she was talking to and then looked in my direction. The girl beside her was tanned with long brown hair and blue eyes. She leaned over the other girl and waved at me and smiled. I smiled back and waved to her. I turned back around and faced the professor. Relief spread over me as I realized that I had found someone just as confused as I was.
      After class was over I left the ivy covered building feeling exhausted and disappointed in how my first class had gone. I followed the rushing flow of students to the closest coffee shop and stopped in to grab a hot chocolate before heading back to my residence. As I paid for my hot chocolate I heard a voice in my ear that said, "What the hell was that professor talking about?" I turned around to find the brown eyed, brown haired girl smiling at me.     
    "I literally have no idea. He used such big words I barely knew what he was saying half the time." The words slipped out of my mouth before I could stop them. Shit I thought to myself. Now this girl is going to think I'm dumb.
     The brown eyed beauty laughed and held out her hand, "Daniela," she said introducing herself, "Welcome to the life of an English major."
     I took her hand and shook it and said, "Mary-Kate. Was that your first University class? Or am I the only one unfortunate enough to have that as my first experience on campus."
     Daniela looked at me with wide eyes and exclaimed, "That was my first class too! And Bailey's, who was the girl that was sitting beside me. You should totally sit with us next class. Us lost girls have to stick together." Daniela said with a wink.
     I laughed and said, "I definitely will!"
     "Excellent, well I have to go catch my mom for a ride home, so I will see you next class!" Daniela said as she began to leave. I waved to her before leaving the coffee shop and heading back to residence.
    That night I sat in my bed wearing the only t-shirt I was able to snag of his before leaving for school. I smelt the significant smell of him while reading  over the syllabus from the class this morning. My heart ached for home and for simpler times under the summer stars. Just then my phone began to rang. He always had perfect timing, coming back to me when I needed him most. I answered the phone and laid back in my bed, big smile spreading across on my face.
   "Hey." I said cooly.
    "Hey." He said back. I could hear the smile in his voice. "How was your first day of class june bug?" He asked over the phone.
     I smiled while twirling my hair with my fingers and replied, "Hard as hell. I had no idea what my professor was saying half the time."
     "Why did he have an accent? Thats the worst." He asked.
      "No, he just used really big words." I said honestly. His laugh was sweet and scent shivers down my spine as it came through my phone. I couldn't help but laugh myself. My first university class was a failure all because my professor used too big of words for my understanding. Only could he make me see the humour in everything. We talked for over an hour, an endless converstaion about our adventures out on our own, experiencing college and university life. For a moment there was a pause before he said to me, "I miss you, you know."
      "Oh you do?" I said, acting surprised - heart melting inside.
      "Yes I do. Do you miss me?" he asked earnestly.
       "Yes." I said in almost a whisper as the emotions I had tucked away came rushing forward.
       "Goodnight june bug." He said quietly before hanging up the phone.
        "Goodnight." I said softly before hanging up. I laid in bed with a mixture of feelings that night, some happy and some sad. I was sad because a chapter of my life had ended, and I feared he would be lost with it. On the other side, I was happy because I had met great people today and was officially a university student. By the time I fell asleep I was smiling, reassured that things could only get better. As for him, I thought to myself, no matter what chapter of my life was ending, he always found his way into the next one.

Orientation

     For many, the idea of orientation includes finding your way around campus, finding classes, making friends, buying textbooks, and so on. This preconceived idea of what orientation week, or "O-Week" as many call it, is one that is largely different from the reality of orientation week. For me, and for many, "O-week" consisted upon drinking shots of vodka, blurred nights, togas, loud music, and thankfully waking up in your own bed the next morning.
    One particular morning, I awoke to the sun streaming through my large window. I turned on to my back and tried to register where I was. I laid entangled in my sheets, staring at the beige ceiling above me, trying to figure out why my head was pounding. I suddenly realized that the pounding was not in my head, but in fact at my door. I heard the familiar and unnecessarily loud voice of Avery as she shouted through my wooden door.
      "Mary! Wake up! How crazy was last night? I think I'm still drunk!" Avery yelled. I groaned and rolled out of bed. I found a pair of shorts and a sweater and quickly got dressed before Avery could make any more noise and wake up my roommate. I opened my bedroom door to find Avery leaning against the door post, water bottle in hand, still wearing her dress from the night before.
       "Nice outfit." I stated as I let Avery enter my room.
        "Oh someone's grumpy today are they?" Avery taunted, "Here's some water, you have to get yourself in gear for tonight!" Avery threw the water bottle at me as she simultaneously jumped onto my bed. Avery quickly found the TV remote and turned on the latest episode of some trashy reality tv show that I was unaware of. I walked over to the bed and flopped down beside Avery on the bed. As I sat there I thought to myself, it had been three days of endless partying but still no boys or prospects in sight. I thought university was all about finding your soul mate, but all I had met was boys with snaggle teeth and body odour. I turned to Avery and questioned her on this matter.
       "Have you met anyone yet?" Avery turned to me, looking confused. "I mean, have you met any hot guys or nice ones atleast?" I continued.
       "Pft no," Avery snorted, "all the guys at the bar are either desperate geeks or sleeze balls. There is a cute guy on my floor though."
       "I thought this would be the week we would meet every body," I said, "but I haven't met anyone remotely decent yet."
        "Girl, don't even worry," Avery said, "it's been three days. Who cares just enjoy yourself you'll meet someone eventually." I turned and faced the ceiling again. Avery was right, why did I care if I met someone. Was I really that desperate that I couldn't even enjoy a week of partying with new friends? I just had to have a boy to talk to? I decided to put all the worrying behind me. As the night came I wore my sexiest little black dress and nude pumps and went down to Avery's room to drink with our new friends. Something was different about tonight, I drank more and cared less about the people I wanted to meet. I focused on the friends surrounding me and the music playing in my ears. Near midnight my friends and I managed to stumble to the University bar. Together we danced in a circle, having the time of our lives. The music was loud and thumping with the beats of our hearts, the lights bounced off of our sequince tops, and all that mattered was the smile on our faces and how loud we could sing to the songs. I noticed an extremely attractive blonde boy looking at me from across the bar. I wasn't sure if it was the liqour or my little black dress, but I lost all cares and made my way acros the bar. As I made my way over to the boy I forgot to think up something clever and witty to say, so I stuck to being my awkward self said, "Hi!" The blonde bombshell gave a smile and said, "'Ello there" I immediately was struck back by this boys thick British accent, and how lucky I was to meet him. We went outside and sat together for two hours, he told me how he had travelled here from England away from his family to experience Canada. Everytime he used words such as "knickers" or "the loo" I couldn't help but giggle. It wasn't until closing time that I realized I had completely ditched my friends, I hopped off the picnic table we had been sitting on and said, "Oh my God I lost my friends." He looked up at me and smiled and said, "Well you better go find them." I gave him my best smile and stuck out my hand for him to shake. "My names Mary-Kate by the way." The blonde, british boy looked to me and said, "Eric." I turned to leave and looked over my should and said, "See you around Eric," before running back into the pub. I found my friends awkwardly standing on the stage scanning the crowd for me. I jumped and waved my hands until they smiled and ran towards me. We made our way home and said our drunken goodnights before separating to our separate rooms. As I took off my little black dress to put on more comfortable clothes I sat on my bed looking at myself in the mirror. It was then that I remembered that in my drunken state I didn't even give Eric my phone number. I let out a laugh as I climbed into my comfortable, welcoming bed. "Oh well" I drunkenly said to myself as I laid down on my pillows. My last drunken thoughts consisted of the idea that University was not about finding your soul mate, but that it was about finding yourself. Maybe it was these drunken nights and drunken meetings that gave you the experience to know yourself and what you wanted to prepare yourself for your soul mate. I thought to myself, being alone, having fun with friends and experiencing university could be enough.

The Beginning

  I looked out the white screen door at the beige pick-up truck slowly pulling out of my white paved drive-way. As his truck pulled away I felt the air in my lungs quickly escape as the anxiety awaiting in the pit of my stomach began to rise. The one single thought I had been dreading since our first reunion under the stars that summer came rushing back to the front of my brain. What if I never saw him again? Change was inevitable. But that does not mean I had to welcome it. I, Mary-Kate, all seventeen years of my life, was never a fan of change. I turned around and pressed my back against the screen door. I breathed in those last few breaths of small-town summer air before I headed up the stairs to my room. Or what was left of my room for that matter, since my whole life had been packed into boxes. Seventeen years, could fit into ten important boxes. These ten important boxes would follow me to university tomorrow where I would begin my very important and intellectual life. As I sat on my bed I could hardly comprehend how I thought leaving my mother, my life, and my town to go to a foreign place and study english literature would be a good idea. First of all, I like reading, but only books that I choose. Secondly, my grammar is horrible. My true passion is writing. That is, writing from the heart, not the brain. As soon as you add rules and grammar to my writing, all passion is lost. Therefore, I was second guessing my choice to be an english major since I still did not know how to correctly use a comma. But most importantly, the gaping hole in my chest was not from the fact that I was leaving my beloved small town, it was that I was leaving the love of my life, the Sunny to my Cher. Tomorrow was the end of an era, the end of a dream. The dream that I would finally be with my one true love was shattered when he decided to go to school nine hours away. Of course this happens to many teenagers, love gained, love lost. Life moves on, literally.

 The next morning I awoke in a cold sweat. My heart beating out of my chest before I even had time to put on a bra. The boxes were loaded. I wore my sexiest black t-shirt and ripped jeans. Casual, but stylish. I was going to be cool in university, every boy would fall to my knees and it would be the time of my life. This is what I had to tell myself every minute on what seemed like a four hour drive. We arrived at the residence and I wanted to throw up, and faint, and go home. The boxes were unpacked, the clothes arranged in place. The goodbyes were said and I sat on my new bed, in my new room, numb and alone. All of a sudden I heard a banging on my door, I went to open it to find my one highschool friend who had decided to attend the same school as I, in the same dorm, only a floor away. Smile on her face, booze in her hand, she barged in and gave me a giant bear hug. Avery was the kind of girl that could make anything better with her carefree personality.

"I'm so proud of you!" she exclaimed, "I thought for sure you would be crying in bed by now!" she laughed, her blonde hair brushing her shoulders. She set the booze on the table and made herself at home. She found the two shot glasses I had bought as tokens from Paris and New York and filled them to the brim with Smirnoff original flavoured vodka. Shaky, numb, and depressed I picked up the glass and did what all university students seemed to do to cope. I drank. I drank 1, 2, 3, 4, and more shots of that vodka. We wandered around the residence, asking random people to drink with us and eventually found friends. We all gathered around my tiny table in my room, all of us new, insecure, and drinking away our sorrows. I thought to myself, maybe this change would not be so bad. There we were, five or six girls, most of us strangers, all going through the exact same thing. Maybe, if we stuck together, we could make it through it, maybe together, this would not be horrible, maybe together, it would be fun.