MARSHALL APARTMENT
That fall, the fall of 1995, felt
different to Alex the instant that the first traces of gold and burgundy
appeared on the trees. Somehow he knew it would be different. He knew,
somehow, that that year would change his life more than anything else ever
had.
Of course, that much should have
been obvious: In September of that year, he entered his freshman year of
college. He made the choice to leave home, at least while school was in
session, and live in the dorms. The whole thing was overwhelmingly exciting
-- anxious, definitely, but also just plain exciting. He would have the
chance to be away from his mother and away from the hell of high school,
to start over in a new environment and be in control of how others perceived
him and how he lived.
He knew he wanted to live in the
dorms from the moment he visited the school as a prospective student. That
was where most of the action was for the freshmen, it seemed, and he certainly
didn't want to miss out on any of that. He didn't want to feel lost in
the shuffle as he had in high school -- no, he wanted to be right at the
center of all the important happenings.
One thing about living in the dorms
frightened him, though, and that was the prospect of living with a roommate.
He didn't know anyone who was going to his school, and if he had he probably
would not have wanted to live with him anyway. But the idea of sharing
such limited space with a stranger troubled him, as much as he didn't want
to admit that it did, and it ate away at the back of his mind for most
of the summer before he entered college.
Now Alex stares down at the pages,
examining the loops and lines of black ink that spell out his fears. The
journal had been a high school graduation present from one of his mother's
friends and he had been determined to make good use of it and record all
the changes that would soon be sweeping through his life. Little did he
know back then how great a gift this journal would turn out to be.
He turns the pages through the summer
and the entries carry him into the fall. His roommate, Seth, wrote him
a letter a few weeks before school began, once they received each other's
name and address, and Alex did the same. The letter hadn't really told
him that much, but he felt a bit more at-ease being able to pin some basic
characteristics on the guy with whom he would be spending the entire year.
Seth played soccer in high school
and was hoping to make the college's team. His grades were decent enough,
his parents were still married, he had one younger sister. The usual information.
Alex had written back with a similar letter, outlining the major factors
in his life.
Still, the idea of having to be in
such close proximity to Seth had Alex worried. Would he be able to find
quiet time to write? Would he be able to get his work done? Sleep schedules,
TV shows, and very minor details ... They were all burning on Alex's brain.
The anxiety melted away the moment
that he walked into the room. Seth was there with his parents, unpacking
his things. He was friendly, warm, and Alex liked him instantly. They ate
together in the dining hall that night and the next day signed up for classes
together, registering in the same literature class. Alex enjoyed the quick
friendship, which had never come so easily before. Still, during those
first few weeks he never felt totally comfortable around Seth -- but then,
he never was completely comfortable around others, especially people he
didn't know very well.
The changes for which Alex had hoped
were coming. He and Seth quickly got to know other students in their dorm.
They became part of a large social circle, the type of group in which Alex
had always dreamed he could be included during high school. The first semester
dashed by, a virtual blur of changes, new friends, and crazy nights. Of
course there were low points, but the overall success of the experience
kept Alex's journal entries light and happy, for the most part.
He is surprised to find that the
pages are still crisp between his fingers as he moves through that first
semester all over again. It's a time that his mind has often revisited,
but he never allows it to dwell for too long -- because he knows where
it all changes.
Those pages are approaching now.
The handwriting gets sloppier, the words more spread out. Fewer exclamation
points and more question marks decorate the pages.
Alex pauses as he reaches finals
week of that semester, the week before the students were to head home for
their month-long winter break.
He can't do this now.
He flips the journal shut and tucks
it under his pillow. Quickly he rises, moving to the kitchen for a drink
or a snack or--something. Anything to pull him out of that time.
It was a mistake to go back there.
END OF EPISODE #215
What do you think of how Jason
handled the situation? How about Alex's trip down memory lane? What is
in store for Claire? Please visit the Message
Forum to share your thoughts!
Next Episode
One .
Two .
Three .
Four .
Five .
Six .
Seven .
Eight
Main Page .
Current Episode .
Episode Archives .
Story Recap .
Characters .
Making Prints .
Interact .
Around King's Bay .
Links
