The Sophomore (College Years #2) - Monica Murphy Page 0,1
gravitate toward each other. I call her my mentor. I hope to be just like her when I grow up. I mean, she’s only around three years older than me, but still. She’s strong and smart and she doesn’t back down from anything. While I’m quiet and shy and sometimes a little scared of trying something new.
Ava doesn’t take any crap either. She stands up for what she believes in, no matter what. I’m going to miss her. She’s going away to college. Her boyfriend isn’t too happy about it either, but we can’t convince her to stick around. If we try that, it’ll push her to leave even more. She’s kind of stubborn.
I wish I was more like her.
Jackson’s text pops up again and I tap it, contemplating my reply. I decide to keep it simple.
Me: Hey! What’s up?
The gray bubble pops up immediately, surprising me. Maybe he was waiting for me to respond.
Jackson: Nothing much. Tired. Homesick.
Me: Getting tired of traveling already?
He’s been gone over a month. He said he’d come back at the end of July, so he could be back at school in time for football practice, which is about three weeks before classes start. He claims he’s going to be on the team again this season, but I don’t know. How is he going to do that? His entire life is changing, and he’s currently split in two directions. Something will have to give. He’ll have to make a choice soon, and I’m thinking he’ll let go of football.
Jackson: Yeah. I miss sleeping in my own bed.
I wish for once he’d say he misses me. He misses my smiling face. Something, anything like that would send me over the moon.
Of course, it would also send my expectations soaring sky high and I’d end up sorely disappointed when I realized, yet again, that Jackson isn’t interested in me like that. In his eyes, I’m a friend. Nothing more. Even if I desperately want there to be.
That. Is. It.
Shoving all negative thoughts aside, I focus on our conversation.
Me: Where did you perform tonight?
Jackson: At an outdoor music festival on the outskirts of Seattle. It was so fuckin cool, E. We went to the place where Kurt Cobain killed himself.
Me: Uh, that’s gruesome.
Jackson: He’s my fuckin idol, you know this. Anything that has to do with him, I want to see. Fuck, I want to absorb whatever I can, wherever I’m at. Seattle is an amazing city.
I’ve never been there. I haven’t been many places, really. Grew up in the same small town. Never traveled out of the state. My parents don’t have a lot of money, though we’re not what I would call poor. I feel poor though, compared to all the people I hang out with. They mostly all come from money.
I didn’t even bother applying to colleges anywhere else. I chose Fresno State because it’s close and not too expensive, and thank God I got in. I’m not adventurous. Not even close.
Me: I can see you living in Seattle.
Jackson: I would’ve moved to Seattle in a heartbeat if it was the 90s. But it’s not. The music scene is cool here, but not like back then. Those were the good days.
Me: I think you were meant for another time.
Jackson: I think you’re right.
We talk a little more about his travels. Where he’s going next. When he’s coming home. He says record executives are still chasing after him, trying to get him to sign deals, which has been going on for a while, ever since he started performing regularly at one of the local venues in Fresno. But he’s not ready to tie himself down with anything. He claims he’s not sure if this is what he really wants.
Me: You’re going to have to make a choice sometime.
Jackson: I’ll keep up the dual life as long as I can. I’m only nineteen. I want to go party with my friends too, you know? This is starting to feel like a grind. Like a job.
Me: Are you performing at Strummers when you come back home?
Jackson: Yeah. I have a performance lined up for July 31st. Didn’t I tell you? Though I’m coming home on the 27th so I can have a little time to relax. I can’t wait.
My heart cracks wide open. He’ll be home in less than three weeks. I can’t wait to see him.