Page 7 of Trusting Trey
“Good, you come tomorrow and we will have dinner Saturday night. Stay the night and go to church with us on Sunday.”
There we have it, I knew it was coming, but tried to hide the laughter anyway. “Baba, you are the one who wants me to live on campus and get the full experience of college life. I’d be more than happy to live at home, you know that.”
He sighed. “I know Alcina, but it is smart to learn how to be on your own before you graduate.” I tossed my head back and forth while he did his usual spiel about the importance of independence and learning how to manage money and pay bills. “But that doesn’t mean you can’t come home and visit, yourmaand me. Do you need any money?”
I laughed then, it finally getting the better of me. “No,Baba, I don’t need any money. I’m stellar at budgeting my money by now and don’t have many expenses. I could use a ride to your house, though. I don’t want to drag all my laundry on the bus,” I joked, standing and starting back to the chapter house. With any luck, I’d get a chance to ride my bike before it got too dark.
“Of course, honey. I’ll pick you up tomorrow at eleven. Sound fine?” he asked.
“Sounds fine,Baba. I’ll be waiting. Love you, see you then,” I said, hanging up the phone after he said he loved me, too.
I slipped it back in the pocket of my jeans and jogged the last few blocks to the house.Babahas always wanted me to go out and experience life. He’s told me since I was a little girl that if I went to college and ‘sowed my wild oats’ there, I was less likely to do it once I was married with children. I always laughed and asked him why he thought I was ever going to get married. I missed being at home, and the start of every school year was always an adjustment period for both of us. I live at home in the summer and work part-time at the library, but every year he’s insisted I go back to the chapter house and spend the year there.
I bounced up the three stairs to the front porch and pushed open the door, dropping my backpack inside and closing it again. If I went now I had enough time to ride around campus and not be out too late after dark. I had my helmet light in my bike bag, just in case. Chances are there was a football game tonight. I would probably run into a bunch of people I knew and find myself out later than I planned, but such is college life. I bumped my bike down the stairs of the house and swung my leg over the seat. With only a month or less of bike riding weather left before the snow fell, I had to enjoy the time I could outdoors. Soon my transportation choices would be the bus or my own two feet to get me back and forth to class. I was already counting the days until my bike could come out to play again.
I pedaled behind the wellness center and breathed in the fresh air. The lights were coming on around the campus as the sun went down and I frowned a little. It was getting dark too early and I wasn’t ready for winter yet. Just one more winter though, Allison, and you can finally start your life and make it what you want it to be. Maybe you can even write that book you’ve been dreaming about since you were in high school. I laughed at myself, turning left and heading up the hill. I was probably better off sticking to reading and not writing. I never seemed to pull off any great literary feats in high school or college, unless it was a book report.
I had recently started a book blog called ‘Baklava and Books’. It was already taking off in just the three months I’d been reading and reviewing books. I get emails from authors and publishers every day asking me to read their books. As a total book geek, nothing is more exciting than getting mail these days. I also found it allowed me to broaden my horizons in the genres of books I read. I don’t always like all of them, but I am finding some new authors and genres I never would have read before. I intended to use the experiences from the blog to write my dissertation.
The football stadium loomed ahead and the tailgaters were out in full force. I saw my chapter’s tent and hit the brakes letting out a muffled groan. I had forgotten all about the tailgate party for the game tonight. I really should pay more attention to that stuff, but I hate football and couldn’t care less. Of course, I can’t say that aloud in a place like Duluth, so I plastered a smile on my face and walked my bike up to the tent, flicking the kickstand down.
“Allison, you made it?” my sorority sister Lucy asked rather flabbergasted. I acted nonchalant, like my showing up is a natural occurrence.
“Of course, I’m always here to help. I can’t stay for the game, but I’m happy to help out with the grilling.” I smiled, hoping the words coming out of my mouth were believable.
She thrust an apron at me. “Good, put this on and let’s fire up the grill. We have less than two hours to show those guys we really own this town.” She threw her finger in the direction of our neighboring tent and I had to stop the groan that threatened to erupt. Luck would have it our competition for this tailgate party was none other than Lambda Sigma Omega. This is going to be fantastic. Not.
Daphne sashayed up to the tent five minutes before kickoff and didn’t even have the decency to look ashamed. Her shirt was inside out and her jaw was still popping her postcoital gum.
“Nice of you to finally show up,” I said, sarcasm dripping from the words.
“As if you have anything to say; this is the first time I’ve seen you at one of these since you joined the sisterhood.”
“Second, and I was kidding. Come help me get this mess cleaned up so I can get out of here. I need a long hot shower and my bed.” She finally dropped her hand from her hip and ducked under the white canopy. “Did you enjoy your afternoon prelude with Mr. Sexy?” I asked, one brow raised, handing her a foil pan of leftover brats.
“Sophomores are such goobers,” she groaned. “Got to second base and didn’t make it any further. A girl has standards,” she assured me and I couldn’t keep the snicker from escaping.
I’d been dealing with Daphne’s escapades for years and I had her standards figured out. I was starting to think my standards might be set a little too high. Trying to find a guy who reads anything other than Sports Illustrated was nearly impossible and I might have to give up the ghost on that one. What kept me going was I knew he was out there somewhere, maybe over the rainbow. Raucous laughter came from my left and I tried hard not to roll my eyes for the four hundredth time in the last two hours.
Daphne put her hand on her hip, “Aren’t you jack didilies going to the game? Hurry along now, little boys, before your mommas come looking for you.”
More laughter ensued and several fingers started waving in the air, to which Daphne waved back.
The ringleader hushed the rest of the group and crossed his arms in front of him. “We aren’t going to the game tonight. We might just make some trouble; you ladies want to join us?”
I gagged and shook my head. “I have a headache.”
His buddies all hooted and slapped him on the back, calling him names for striking out. I clamped my jaw shut and finished packing the buns back into the bags and the hotdogs in the cooler.
I tossed a set of keys to Daphne, “Let’s load this stuff in the truck and get the hell out of here.”
She caught them midair and grinned. “I couldn’t agree more.”
After several trips to the sorority house truck, we had it loaded and the tent taken apart. It took longer than it should have with only the two of us, but we often let the younger girls get out of KP duty to blow off a little steam. We’d so been there, done that, we just didn’t care anymore. I rolled my bike toward the truck and Daphne tossed it in the back, slamming the tailgate shut. We climbed in and drove off to the sounds of the boys and their insistence one day we’d change our minds.
I looked to Daphne, stopped at the light, and pretended to gag myself with my finger. “Not anytime in this century.”
She raised her hand up and I gave it a solid high five just as the light turned green.
