Read Online Cecily Von Ziegesar by Cum Laude (v5) - Free Book Online Page A

she’d marked up in her travel guides, she’d start saving for the Moon, Mars, or your anus— gotcha!
    Adam was also dreaming of an extraterrestrial existence. If this were Star Trek, he thought, boldly taking hold of Shipley’s drowsy bare foot, I’d beam everyone back to the ship except for her. We’d start our own civilization on some abandoned planet, and I’d set up some kind of force field around her so nothing bad could ever happen to her. Even if keeping up the force field meant sapping power from the planet, or losing contact with Earth or the mother ship, I’d do it. I’d even die for her. All at once, his life was imbued with meaning.
    But in the fecund forest of her imagination, Shipley had already yielded to another boy’s charms. The wood creaked as Tom carried her upstairs, the gray cat butting ahead of them like a nosy chaperone. He laid her down on a bed. The comforter was purple and blue Ralph Lauren paisley and the walls were decorated like a diorama at the Museum of Natural History. Ducks skated across icy ponds, the tips of their wings touching. A rabbit crouched, sniffing the air as it held up its injured foot. The branches of a willow tree wafted over a burbling brook. Sheep grazed on a grassy hilltop. A wolf looked up from its prey, its fangs dripping. Tom kissed her and their clothes fell away like onionskins. The animals stood watch while they made love.
    Tragedy picked up her Rubik’s cube. “Who wants to time me?”
    Like jigsaw pieces that had been cut to fit but until now hadroamed randomly disassembled in the box, the six of them were now inextricably linked. Of course the puzzle was largely unfinished—it would take a lifetime to complete, or at least four years.
    The screen door banged in the kitchen. Shipley bolted upright on the sofa, relieved to find that she was still wearing her shorts.
    Here we go, Eliza thought morbidly. Cue chain saw.
    â€œIf you’re in there, I want your rear ends back in the van!” It was Professor Rosen. She sounded winded, like she’d been running hard. “I’m taking you back to campus. Obviously you can’t be trusted on your own in the woods.”

5
    C ollege has a break-in period. First there is the unfamiliar task of sleeping in a strange bed in a noisy building with a virtual stranger sleeping across the room from you. Your roommate might be an early riser who, after snagging the first shower, is fully dressed and blow-drying her bangs by seven. The roar of the hair dryer hurts your head. When you get up, you will probably have to wait outside the bathroom down the hall to use the toilet or shower or sink. You might be hungover after staying up most of the night doing funnels with the upperclassmen next door. Then there is breakfast in the dining hall, a confusing combination of preschool cereal options and tiny cups of weak coffee.
    Next is registration, a madhouse in the field house. Professors of unpopular courses like Geology or German try to hawk their syllabi like door-to-door salesmen, while the line to sign up for Creative Writing or Film Studies goes out the door. You remember what your high school guidance counselor said about taking a variety of courses your first two years of college. By dabbling inevery subject you will open up more options as to your major and complete your core requirements so you can focus on the courses you really want to take. Besides the required Freshman English, you sign up for Intro to Geology to fulfill your science credits, Intro to Psychology to use up your social science credits but also because you think the class consists of lying on a couch and talking about yourself, Music Comprehension (aka Clapping for Credit), The Romantics because it sounds romantic, and Creative Writing: Poetry because Fiction was full and poems are shorter and therefore require less work.
    For the first week of school you cling to the people you met on