Summer Before College, 1998

I did not realize I was being left behind until the moment when the actual leaving happened. Yara, who was desperate to escape, was accepted into Tampa and with that came helping her pack all her things into her car. I felt a sudden sense of loss, so many laughs and adventures happened in that gold Volvo. Yara was not sorry to leave us, her smile was brilliant and cheery, no regrets. She wouldn't look back and moan, wonder what she'd left behind. Not Yara, she was ready to take in deep gulps of air in a new town and conquer it with her winning smile. We had squealed in excitement when we discovered Yara's university was next to a Coast Guard base. 'MILITARY GUYS!' we had said excitedly and danced around, making Yara to promise to provide all details. Her dad bought her a cellphone and she looked so grown as she placed it in her purse that I felt a pang of jealousy. I was stuck here at home, sure I was going to be going to college, but to look at Yara made me realize she was moving at a different speed than I was.

"I'll miss you and I love you." Yara clutched me. I nodded and promised to provide her details if she did the same.

Our final hug was tight, we clasped to one another, promising to call, and to see each other in Thanksgiving. With that, we waved goodbye watching our beloved Volve drive off and turn at the end of the road.

And then there were three.

Rosalind cried a little but was comforted by the thought that both she and Mercy were both going to Georgia and at least they'd have each other. The next week I watched Rosalind and Mercy also leave me and that's when I cried.

"I'm going to be all alone!"

"You're going to know half the people in the campus," Mercy said.

But it was not the same, I would be the last of the Patty Girls, the Patty Girls were done and what had defined me for the past three years had just evaporated. Like my house in Miami. They were leaving and I saw blue walls where my own walls should have been. Dancing gods, I remembered.

"Mom hates that I'm going to Georgia," Rosalind said. "She wants me in Miami, my grandparents are there and my sister."

"Your Mom can't control all of your life," Mercy's practical tone was evergreen.

"I might join a sorority," Rosalind said.

Mercy scoffed and met my eyes. "You're going to be fine, Becka. Maybe you'll be friends with Victor!"

I scoffed angrily. "I refuse to."

"I wonder why he didn't take the scholarship to Virginia," Mercy said.

"Clem's in Virginia," I said.

He was probably going to have the time of his life in Virginia. Maybe one day I'd see him playing for a big team like the Red Socks and I'd tell my future husband that I'd once danced with Clemente Cruz. Overall as the days passed I thought less and less about Clem, as if the wound was slowly cauterizing.

I helped Mercy and Rosalind load their things in their cars, Rosalind's dad was driving with them. That day, as I watched their cars turn at the end of the road, I tasted loneliness for the first time in a long time.

Which is how I ended up in the salon demanding my hair be highlighted within an inch of its life. I wanted to look different, grown-up, sexy. I wanted to have adventures with college guys, and hopefully lose my virginity as it seemed to be an important step. I knew Mercy was no longer a virgin but Yara was cagey about it and Rosalind and I were confessed inexperienced. The highlights looked amazing, they framed my face and the stylist had added bangs which for the first time in my life, I liked. As I walked out of the salon that day, my new hair bouncing around me, a grown man stopped and stared at me.

"Que bella, mami," he said.

I thought it was creepy and uninvited, he was too old for me but still, a little bloom of something erupted in my chest. He was a man, a grown man, and he thought me pretty. The way he stared at me told me he desired me and I wondered if this is what Yara and Mercy felt. I wondered if I swayed my hips or tossed him a smile I could make him do things. Things I wanted. The thought scared me and I rushed to my car, away from his eyes. As I sat on the hot seat and turned on the AC, I glanced at myself in the rearview mirror. I looked like someone who would be desired, and I did not quite know how to handle that situation.

My first semester started in two weeks and I devoured those days in buying supplies, books, and new clothing. It was odd to shop for clothes without my girls, suddenly I had no one to turn to about decisions on a top. Did it look good? Was it too revealing? Was this a good color? I didn't know. I was so lost that the first day I left without buying anything. Mom asked if I wanted her to come with me but I knew she would not approve of things that I liked so I declined. Plus, I wanted to do this for myself.

I found myself once again in the Florida Mall, standing before a mirror and attempting to decipher if the top I was trying on looked good. A guy that worked there stopped and stood behind me and our eyes met in the mirror.

"Super cute, I love it," he said. "Makes your boobs look great."

I gasped and laughed but he shrugged his thin shoulders. "Listen, I may be gay but I know when tits look good."

I looked back at myself. "I don't want to look desperate. I don't know what to wear to college."

He put his hand on his chin and looked me over. "Hmm, I never went to college so I'm not sure either. But the top looks like you're up for a good time."

I grimaced.

"Buy it anyway, you're going to be partying." He fixed the twisted strap.

"I don't party much. Which is probably why I'm still a virgin."

Now it was his turn to gasp. "Are you serious? But you're so cute!"

I gave him a pressed-lipped smile. "Well, you haven't met my friends."

He rolled his eyes and fluttered his hand in dismissal. "Doesn't matter. College is different, or so I've heard. Actually, the real world is all different. I was a pariah in High School, I had like no friends and now my social calendar is packed. Packed."

He finished fixing the top with expert fingers and pulled back to admire his work.

"You're going to have your pick." He nodded at his handiwork then pulled a card from his back pocket. "My roommate is a bartender at Club Test, in downtown, I go every Thursday. Have you been to a gay club?"

I shook my head but took the card he offered. The card had a massive amount of rainbows on it and CLUB TEST as in bold cursive letters.

"If you want to have a fucking good time, come, ask for Jayson. They won't card you as long as you wear that top." He smiled and turned to walk away.

"Hey, what's your name?"

He looked at me. "Denis, no last name."

"Ok, Denis no last name, I'm Becka."

"I'll remember that, Becka with the rack." He winked and got lost in a row of dresses.

×××

Despite staying in the same town, I did get into a good college. The main atrium building was tall, large, and white, with windows that ran up both sides letting in the brilliant Florida sunlight and bathing us the pleasure of tropical living. Everything was new; a new library, new floors, new stairs, crisp and ready to be soiled by the freshman class that took over the building. I had been awarded a work-study and would be working in the advising office, helping students map out their academic plans. The money was crap but dad had agreed to buy me a car, a Corolla which was bright red with low mileage. It was nothing special but it was wheels and I was free to come and go as I pleased. When I drove it around town I felt invisible, I'd blast No Doubt, windows down and bob along as my hair blew in the wind. I could do silly everyday things like a trip to Burger King, a stop at the mall, and to get stuff from the grocery store if Mom had run out of an ingredient. I was happy to do it, just to get out of the house, to be able to be as free as a tiny bird.

I also got a gym membership at the YMCA. I didn't know how half of the machines worked and my first time on an elliptical almost killed me. I didn't know how to make it stop so I kept working out, holding on to my left lung until an old man had pity on me and calmly explained that I had the power to make it stop. I fell on my face as I stumbled down. My ass was in the air and I had to avoid the YMCA for two days until I had full control of my legs and had regained my dignity.

The first day of class came so quickly that the night before I had a full-blown panic attack when I realized I had not purchased my Humanities book. That night I dreamt that I was on the elliptical in the middle of the atrium and couldn't stop the machine and everyone laughed as I clutched to the handles for dear life. It was awful.

My freshman schedule went as follows:

Now, the first problem with going to the local college right after graduating is that about 40% of the people there are the same as High School. The second problem was that you couldn't be a Patty Girl without the Patty Girls and essentially, I had no one. I knew people and recognized them, greeted them with a relieved smile but I had no group to hide in.

The guys also looked different, older, and most certainly hotter. The first day of class felt a lot like the first day of High School only in different buildings. I had decided I wanted to be a lawyer and I knew I had to study my butt off to be able to get into a big-time school in Chicago or Boston. So I went in focused and determined.

Straight As, I said to myself. Nothing below that.

All of my dreaming came to a screeching halt during that first Composition class. This was not my English Honors class; this was hardcore and my professor was a retired navy captain who took no shit from anyone. I was so flustered by the end of the two hours that I didn't notice Victor Manning was in the same class. I discovered this as I tried to leave the room and we both tried to shove our way through the doorway. His massive shoulder accidentally pushed me with until we looked at one another like deer in headlight.

"Hey," he said and allowed me to exit first.

I tucked a wild curl behind my ear. "Thanks."

I was still confused about the demands of the syllabus and for whatever reason happy to have a familiar face. The day when Victor might be a welcomed sight was one I did not see coming. I felt so young and out of my depth, the stupid amount of time I had spent choosing my outfit when in the end it had not mattered. The girls in college were effortlessly cool and put together, no cliques, they stood tall and confident on their own.

"He's brutal," Victor said.

I saw that he had scribbled notes all over his notebook that he was trying to shove into his bag. His handwriting had not changed much since 7th grade and I realized that I had first met him in an English class.

I glanced at the room and nodded. "Yeah, not High School."

I had to admit he looked different, his hair was shorter, buzzed close to his scalp and he seemed older. This was strange because I had seen him in May and that was only a few months ago.

"What other classes do you have?" He asked.

Were we having a conversation that was not tense or insulting? He looked rather honest, his shirt was still too tight and he looked like he would burst from it any moment. He was still handsome and clean, always tidy. However, there was something in his eyes that had changed. He looked... sincere. Mature. Which is why I pulled out my schedule and showed it to him.

"I also have Western Humanities," he said. "But it's today. You have it Tuesdays and Thursdays and with a different professor."

"What's your major?"

I didn't even know why I asked, maybe it was to talk to someone, and I felt very alone without my friends. He glanced at me as he handed me back my schedule.

"Sports medicine."

Of course. I smiled and nodded. "Right."

"Why?" He looked slightly offended. "What's yours?"

"Pre-law."

His look of amusement made me smirk. "You want to be a lawyer? To argue with people?"

"Yes, I'm good at it," I said and stuffed my schedule into my bag. "See you."

I heard him chuckling behind me and did not see him again for the rest of the day.

Recommended 90s Playlist (will grow with each chapter)

1. Gettin' Jiggy With It - Will Smith

2. Kiss The Rain - Billie Myers

3. Come Baby Come - K7

4. Tubthumping - Chumbawamba

5. Bitch - Meredith Brooks

6. Something to Talk About - Bonnie Raitt

7. WannaBe - Spice Girls

8. Miami - Will Smith

9. Ghetto Supastar - Pras

10. All Cried Out - Allure