Ripples Through Time (13 page)

1981 -
Bethany Greenwood

“Was she your favorite?” Edward asks.

“What do you mean?” I ask. I finish the sandwich and dust
the crumbs off my shirt. Mellie always teased me about how many crumbs I would
get on me after eating.

The sandwich tasted fine, but to be honest I barely
enjoyed it at all. I can’t help but think of it as a last meal. Will it be the
last thing I ever eat?

“Your favorite child,” he clarifies unnecessarily.

I play with the idea. “I don’t think I had favorites.”

“That’s what everyone says,” Edward says with a shrug,
“but it’s difficult to be completely neutral.”

“True,” I agree. “But I don’t think it was a favoritism
thing. I loved them each differently. I think it was just harder to get along
with Jason and Richard because they were too much like me.”

“They got your traits?”

I laugh. “Only the bad ones. Especially Jason. He was
like looking into a mirror sometimes, and I knew he’d have a tough way of
things. He was determined to learn everything the hard way.”

Edward laughs. “Yeah. That describes me a little, too.”

“Do you remember when Jason got arrested?”

Edward chuckles. “Which time?”

I smile. “When Adam…”

“Oh yeah,” he says. “I remember.

“A lot happened that day. I’m not sure how much of it you
actually knew.”

“I knew quite a bit,” Edward says. “But how about you go
ahead and tell me about it anyway?”

Beth leaned back in her hard-backed desk chair. She released
a heavy sigh and rubbed her temples. Her back was tight from sitting too long,
her eyes were sore, and her brain hurt; she was also well past the point of
caring about what she was reading. If she didn’t know the material by now, she
wasn’t going to know any of it with a few more hours of staring at her books.
Right now all she cared about was taking her final exam in economics and
forgetting everything she’d learned.

The worst part about studying for this test was she knew it
was a waste of time: more than likely the chapters she was studying wouldn’t
actually show up on the test. Professor Melkin handed out a study guide with
material he expected his students to know, but he rarely used it when designing
his tests. On the midterm she’d discovered that, if anything, the guide dealt
with topics
not
on the exam. She had left the testing room wanting to
yank her hair out.

She’d bombed that midterm. Low seventies was all she’d
managed to scrape by with. After her studying and preparing for the test, only
three questions actually came from the professor’s study guide.

This time she was determined to prepare better. She’d set
aside study time for both the material on the guide
as well
as the
things the guide omitted. She knew how to defeat Professor Melkin’s test…

Or, at least, that was her original theory. That was before
she remembered just how
many
chapters they’d covered in the second half
of the course. Thirteen from one textbook and six from another; each had forty
to sixty terms to memorize. Even if she only focused on the important features
of each chapter, there would be entirely too much to remember it all.

It was a class on macroeconomics: big picture money
problems. She loved economics; or at least she did before this
class. Macroeconomics was focused on predictive studies, capable of
mapping out changes in supply and demand for an extended network over an
indeterminate period of time. It should have been a lot of fun.

Quite the opposite, the class was both boring and
underwhelming. The Professor was tedious and old, the material shoddy and
untenable. She found herself swamped in bell curves, diagrams, and
memorization. She was expected to know what each key term represented, its
origins, and any modern usage it found in the U.S. markets.

And it all felt like a waste of time. She massaged her brow
with the tips of her fingers and closed her eyes. She had a tension headache
and needed sleep, but she didn’t think she would get any tonight. Not with the
final hovering over her. She was too anxious to relax. This was one of her
major courses, and she had to get at least a ninety-four to keep her GPA up. Otherwise
she would be forced to take remedial courses to lift it back up before
graduating, and that was not a promising proposition.

A sudden burst of laughter outside her window distracted
her. Students were playing volleyball. Tension relief.

Beth closed the window.

No mistakes, no missteps. She couldn’t afford to lose her
focus, even if she hated the process. If Professor Melkin curved the grade—he
always did by at least ten points when everyone did poorly—she still had to do
very well. There wasn’t a lot of room for error.

The door opened. Her roommate, Sarah Nolen, came in. She was
carrying a gym bag and looked tired. Sarah was a short red head, barely topping
five feet, with grey eyes and a winning smile. She’d dated four different guys
this semester alone—two at the same time who never met each other—and Beth
hadn’t even bothered to count the number of times she’d stumbled home early in
the morning with a sheepish grin on her face after nights spent with guys not
worth adding to the count.

Beth and Sarah weren’t really friends. Most of the time when
they tried talking to each other they just ended up arguing. Sarah thought Beth
was a stuck-up prude and Beth thought Sarah was a…

Well…

They were simply too different. She liked Sarah as a person
and thought she was friendly, but they just didn’t get along; nothing in
common. But even though they didn’t like each other personally, they were
respectful as roommates. Both were determined to keep their living situation as
comfortable as possible.

They had fallen into a comfortable rhythm, careful not to
step on the other’s toes. Sarah knew better than to bring her boy toys to the
room, especially when Beth was studying, and Beth spent extra time making sure
she didn’t leave her things lying out in Sarah’s way. She also—out of general
courtesy—neglected to inform Sarah that many thought of her as the campus
bicycle.

“Studying?” Sarah asked.

“Of course,” Beth replied.

“Econ?”

Beth nodded.

“I’m so glad I don’t have to take that class.”

“Did you take your sociology final?”

“It went well,” Sarah answered with a smile. Beth could tell
that Sarah was lying—she always smiled when she lied—but didn’t push the issue.
Partly because she wanted to respect Sarah’s privacy, and partly because she
just didn’t care.

Sarah was studying to be a secretary. She’d come to campus
to find a husband—her parents insisted that any man worthy of taking care of
their daughter would be college educated—and she was not abashed about how she
spent her time.

For the most part, it sickened Beth, which was why she
refused to talk about it. But she also had to admit that she envied
Sarah’s self-confidence. She was a pretty little thing with a smile that could
melt candles. And, more importantly, she knew how to seduce.

Something Beth couldn’t do. She was usually too busy being
clumsy and in-the-way to be seductive. It simply wasn’t in the cards for her to
use her body like that. When men looked at her
that way
she found
herself blushing and hurrying to drop their attention.

To be honest, since arriving at college last year, the only
man she’d spent a lot of time with was Adam White. And he didn’t really count. He
was a friend
before
coming to college, and their casual relationship was
one of mutual benefit. He liked her—she’d known that since they were in high
school—and she hadn’t been able to think of a good reason to say ‘no’ when he
asked her out. They both knew it would never be anything more. He was,
basically, a good excuse for her to avoid the amorous advancements of less
savory frat boys.

Beth shook her head, realizing her mind was wandering. She
let out another sigh. She couldn’t really focus on macroeconomics anymore. The
last three pages of her textbook simply passed into and out of her memory.

“Mine isn’t going well,” she said, sliding her chair back
from the desk. The room was a mess, dirty clothes dotting the floor and
tabletops, open books and papers scattered about. She was normally tidier than
this, but she hadn’t cleaned up since finals week started. This was her second
year into the business program, and she already had a fortune invested into
completing it. She couldn’t afford to screw up now, so she simply didn’t have
time to clean.

And of course, Sarah never would either.

“That’s too bad,” Sarah said. “But I’m sure you’ll do fine.”

“I need to do better than fine.”

“Oh,” Sarah replied. They’d already discussed how badly her
midterm went. “Want to take a break and get dinner? Or were you planning to eat
with Adam?”

Beth shook her head. “Adam isn’t coming by this week at all.
He has his own finals and we set up a mutual plan to avoid each other. No
distractions.”

Sarah grinned, and the grin told Beth
exactly
what
she thought of such a distraction. “We wouldn’t want that now, would we?”

Beth ignored her. “We could go to the commons and have a
bite.”

“Good. Anything to get your mind off books for a while,”
Sarah said. “And so I don’t have to eat alone. And don’t worry. I won’t be here
tonight to bug you. I have a date.”

Beth smiled politely, not the least surprised.

The food smelled good. Beth hadn’t realized how hungry she
was until they were waiting in line, and then her stomach started grumbling. Tonight
was roast beef and mashed potatoes slathered in some sort of brown gravy.

She opted—regretfully—for the salad bar instead. She didn’t
need something heavy sitting in her stomach; not with a test in the morning.

The James Caldwell cafeteria was nearly empty when they sat
down to eat. It was before the dinner rush, which was pleasant. Beth didn’t
like big crowds. She hadn’t since she was a little girl. Crowds made her feel
claustrophobic and paranoid, and she took pains to avoid them.

Sarah had a plate full of beef and potatoes, both smothered
in gravy and coated in pepper. She always received extra helpings during
dinner. She didn’t even have to bat her eyelashes anymore. Gently touch a man
on the shoulder a few times, laugh pleasantly at his jokes, and he’ll give you
free food for life. Men are simple like that.

Beth couldn’t understand how her petite friend could eat so
much and stay so thin. It defied logic. All Beth had to do was look at a dish
heaped with that much food and she would gain three pounds.

“Do you have big plans for the summer?” Sarah asked as they
ate. A radio played soft music in the background. Classics.

“Nothing major,” Beth replied, nibbling on a carrot. “What
about you?”

“I’m traveling to Germany,” Sarah replied. “And
backpacking.”

“Alone?”

“No, with Brad.”

Brad was either boyfriend number two or three. Beth couldn’t
remember which.

“Really? I thought you dumped him?”

Sarah blushed. “He’s persistent.”

“That’s where you’re going tonight?”

Sarah nodded, her blush deepening. It was, for sure,
something she could do on command. She was incredibly good at playing innocent,
even though they both knew she was anything but. Demure and beautiful. Beth
tried not to hate her.

“Good for you,” Beth said. “Are you coming back in the
fall?”

Sarah shrugged. “Maybe. I might take a year off from school,
though.”

“You only have one more to go.”

“I know, but it seems like a waste of time. I like to
do
things.
I can’t stand sitting around being unproductive and just
learning
about
the world. I want to experience it.”

Beth was silent, trying to decide if she was being insulted.
She thought to point out that Sarah hadn’t learned much of anything—apart from
bedroom activities—in her time at college, but decided against it. As far as
she could tell, Sarah was being sincere. The insult was purely
accidental. 

And probably defensive. No one liked to be told they were
dumb. Or even below average. Sarah just wanted to demean something she wasn’t
good at to justify her lack of ability and hard work.

 Beth could understand and even sympathize with her
roommate. But that didn’t make her statement any less of a copout. Sarah didn’t
like to
do
things. She just didn’t like to work hard. Life had been easy
for her growing up. Her parents spoiled her, men spoiled her, and the thought
of having to buckle down and do something for herself was daunting.

She was used to life being easy. When something wasn’t, she
gave up.

Beth said: “I know what you mean…”

Her voice trailed off as she glanced to the cafeteria
entrance. Adam stood there wearing a thick plaid shirt and jeans, scanning. He
was a big guy, well-built and strong, with dark hair and friendly eyes. He
hadn’t shaved in a few days—probably since finals started—so he also looked
somewhat rugged.

Mostly, though, he seemed out of sorts and exhausted.

He spotted her and immediately headed toward the table. He
looked worried.

Beth dropped her fork and stood up. “What’s wrong?”

“There you are,” he said.

“Adam? What is it?”

He glanced over at Sarah. “Hi, Sarah,” he said, his voice
deliberate.

She took the hint and stood up. “Hello, Adam. I was just
leaving.”

“We can just—”

“No, it’s alright. I was done anyway,” she said. Sarah
turned to Beth. “I’ll be back in the room for a bit,” she said. “But remember,
I’m going out tonight. You have the room all to yourself.”