Read Online Red is for Remembrance by Laurie Faria Stolarz - Free Book Online
Authors: Laurie Faria Stolarz
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of nervousness.
"You understand correctly, Ms. Brown," he says, scribbling the day's assignment on the board.
"Well, I was just wondering if maybe I could make the quiz up at another time . . . since I was absent. I mean, I don't even have the syllabus."
He turns around to face me, a small menacing smile stretched across his pasty white lips. "This isn't high school, Ms. Brown. Sink or swim." He pulls an extra syllabus from his bag and thrusts it at me.
Huh?
"No life rafts in here." Muller turns his back on me once again, solidifying the obvious-- that I'm absolutely screwed and that I absolutely hate him.
A couple minutes later, he passes out the quiz-- one long list of words I've never seen before: chromatin, nucleoplasm, nucleolus ... I glance over at barbell girl, who's obviously whipping right through-- it appears as though she's already on the second side.
I sign my name and hand in my automatic F, feeling my cheeks get hot as I walk out of the room.
74
The remainder of my day's classes are equally as miserable. There was a short personal essay due in my English class-- another big fat zero-- and I obviously didn't outline the first two chapters for my Intro to Holistic Health class, nor did I single-space-type-out the answers to the chapter review questions at the back of the book.
I take a deep breath, feeling my chest tighten up once again. Apparently a lot of the professors at this college abide by the sink or swim philosophy-- a philosophy in which I have obviously sunk.
75
Stacey
I beeline it back to the dorm, almost making it without having to actually talk to anyone. But then I hear my name called out, about halfway up the dormitory steps. I turn and spot him-- some guy standing amongst a throng of girls, a giant grin across his face.
"You almost knocked me down," he says, taking a step away from them.
76
I look at him, feeling my face scrunch up, wondering who in god's name he is.
"Tim," he says, reminding me.
"Right," I say, finally putting the pieces in place-- the guy from the other day, the Gap attire, the medium brown gelled-up hair, the way he pointed out the directions to Ketcher Hall using my map.
"Where are you headed?" he asks.
"My room," I say, thinking how it must be obvious.
"How about some food first?"
"Food?" I repeat, like it's as foreign of a word as chromatin or nucleoplasm. I glance toward the pack of girls he was standing with, wondering if he's suddenly forgotten about them. One of them folds her arms in my direction, a huge scowl across her makeup-adorned face.
"Yeah," Tim continues. "Food." He smiles wider, adjusting his cap. "Don't you eat? I have an in with the cafeteria lady-- she always saves the fresh stuff for me."
"Sure," I say.
"Great!"
"No. I mean, no."
His face twists up in confusion.
"I mean, sure . . . yeah ... I eat-- all the time, actually. Just not now. I have some serious catching up to do."
"Not on an empty stomach."
"A girl can live on snack food alone."
"Sounds like you speak from experience."
"Ring Dings and Cheez Doodles-- basic staples of prep school."
77
"What kind of a healthy diet is that?" he asks.
"The only kind I have time for-- if I want to stay in college for longer than a week, that is."
"Well, then, can I raincheck you? Maybe we could get dinner some time? I wasn't going to mention this," he pauses to glance over both shoulders, "but I also have an in with Pizza Prison across the street. What do you say to Double-Bubble Criminal Crust and Garlic-Cheesy Bankrobber Bread?"
"Excuse me?" I laugh.
"I take it you haven't been there yet."
I shake my head.
"So what do you say?"
I pause a moment to look at him-- the way he's beaming at me, how his soft brown eyes crinkle up when he smiles, and how he's doing this cute little back and forth shuffle with his feet. "I have a boyfriend," I say, finally.
"Oh," he says, taking a step back. "Sorry, I didn't mean to-- "
"No," I say. "It's fine. I just gotta go."
I turn on
"You understand correctly, Ms. Brown," he says, scribbling the day's assignment on the board.
"Well, I was just wondering if maybe I could make the quiz up at another time . . . since I was absent. I mean, I don't even have the syllabus."
He turns around to face me, a small menacing smile stretched across his pasty white lips. "This isn't high school, Ms. Brown. Sink or swim." He pulls an extra syllabus from his bag and thrusts it at me.
Huh?
"No life rafts in here." Muller turns his back on me once again, solidifying the obvious-- that I'm absolutely screwed and that I absolutely hate him.
A couple minutes later, he passes out the quiz-- one long list of words I've never seen before: chromatin, nucleoplasm, nucleolus ... I glance over at barbell girl, who's obviously whipping right through-- it appears as though she's already on the second side.
I sign my name and hand in my automatic F, feeling my cheeks get hot as I walk out of the room.
74
The remainder of my day's classes are equally as miserable. There was a short personal essay due in my English class-- another big fat zero-- and I obviously didn't outline the first two chapters for my Intro to Holistic Health class, nor did I single-space-type-out the answers to the chapter review questions at the back of the book.
I take a deep breath, feeling my chest tighten up once again. Apparently a lot of the professors at this college abide by the sink or swim philosophy-- a philosophy in which I have obviously sunk.
75
Stacey
I beeline it back to the dorm, almost making it without having to actually talk to anyone. But then I hear my name called out, about halfway up the dormitory steps. I turn and spot him-- some guy standing amongst a throng of girls, a giant grin across his face.
"You almost knocked me down," he says, taking a step away from them.
76
I look at him, feeling my face scrunch up, wondering who in god's name he is.
"Tim," he says, reminding me.
"Right," I say, finally putting the pieces in place-- the guy from the other day, the Gap attire, the medium brown gelled-up hair, the way he pointed out the directions to Ketcher Hall using my map.
"Where are you headed?" he asks.
"My room," I say, thinking how it must be obvious.
"How about some food first?"
"Food?" I repeat, like it's as foreign of a word as chromatin or nucleoplasm. I glance toward the pack of girls he was standing with, wondering if he's suddenly forgotten about them. One of them folds her arms in my direction, a huge scowl across her makeup-adorned face.
"Yeah," Tim continues. "Food." He smiles wider, adjusting his cap. "Don't you eat? I have an in with the cafeteria lady-- she always saves the fresh stuff for me."
"Sure," I say.
"Great!"
"No. I mean, no."
His face twists up in confusion.
"I mean, sure . . . yeah ... I eat-- all the time, actually. Just not now. I have some serious catching up to do."
"Not on an empty stomach."
"A girl can live on snack food alone."
"Sounds like you speak from experience."
"Ring Dings and Cheez Doodles-- basic staples of prep school."
77
"What kind of a healthy diet is that?" he asks.
"The only kind I have time for-- if I want to stay in college for longer than a week, that is."
"Well, then, can I raincheck you? Maybe we could get dinner some time? I wasn't going to mention this," he pauses to glance over both shoulders, "but I also have an in with Pizza Prison across the street. What do you say to Double-Bubble Criminal Crust and Garlic-Cheesy Bankrobber Bread?"
"Excuse me?" I laugh.
"I take it you haven't been there yet."
I shake my head.
"So what do you say?"
I pause a moment to look at him-- the way he's beaming at me, how his soft brown eyes crinkle up when he smiles, and how he's doing this cute little back and forth shuffle with his feet. "I have a boyfriend," I say, finally.
"Oh," he says, taking a step back. "Sorry, I didn't mean to-- "
"No," I say. "It's fine. I just gotta go."
I turn on
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