Far From Home - Chapter 2: Chapter 2
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The First Day of Freshman Year of College
Despite his best efforts, Jake had undoubtedly showed up late to his first class of the day.
The campus was too big. There were too many buildings, too many hallways, and too many rooms in each hallway. He had been certain he was in the right class the first time, only to find out he was on the wrong floor ten minutes into Intro to Social Justice. All of Jake's greatest fears from earlier that morning had been confirmed when he sprinted upstairs to the right classroom, to find only one seat open in the middle of the room.
He hated sitting in the middle of the room. Even the front wouldn't have been as bad as where he was now. Okay, maybe it would've been. No, it would've been worse.
Jake needed to be in the back of the room most of the time. It was a compulsion he couldn't shake that he was safest with his back against the wall, being able to see everyone in front of him without any of them knowing he existed lingering behind them. Even if he didn't realize he was doing it, he needed to see people, to read people, to assess situations from as far away as possible. It made him comfortable, and somehow his teachers in high school never mentioned his fascination with a seat in the last row. But even by leaving early, by setting out to choose the perfect seat before everyone else arrived, he still managed to end up in the middle. Surrounded.
He didn't know why he needed Statistics to begin with when he had no intent whatsoever of pursuing a career in math, but the two dreary emails he received from his advisor last month said he was required to take it, forcing Jake to stuff away his energy to fight it as he grumbled through his boring first semester schedule with her. It was quite a lackluster schedule he had to admit. Monday held Statistics and a Composition course he was highly advised not to drop, Tuesday and Thursday held Intro to Environmental Science, Wednesday was some first-year seminar a couple guys from his dorm were in, and he had somehow managed to end up with Fridays free. He considered it a small blessing and didn't complain.
But starting off his week with Statistics of all things was going to be the test of his patience.
The professor's voice was not as monotone as it could be, but sounded just as tired as Jake felt. She dragged through the syllabus—noting assignment deadlines, exam periods, the grading scale and all the other institutional technicalities she was required to say. In the end, her spiel ended up only taking forty minutes of her allotted class time. Just as soon as Jake had started to feel comfortable with his new arrangement, she dismissed the class and sent his mind reeling to find something to fill the two hour gap before his next class. He watched the shuffle of students around him, returning a bit of life to their days as they took up conversation with each other and shifted out of stiff seats, but he wasn't necessarily eager to do the same.
"Humans share fifty percent of their DNA with bananas."
The voice to his right was loud enough to be heard, but not pointed enough to be directed towards anyone in particular. Jake couldn't help but swivel his head over to where it came from, because there was no way in hell he heard that right. Who the fuck is talking about DNA in a math class?
"What?" He asked out of pure curiosity to the person sitting next to him.
She smiled as she gained his attention, tilting her head back to finish the last of the peach Snapple she held in her hand. Her eyebrows raised at him like she was getting ready to talk as she put the glass back down on the table in front of her, rolling over the round metal cap in her fingers so he could see.
"Humans share fifty percent of their DNA with bananas." She repeated, and this time Jake read the words from the inside of the cap as they left her mouth.
He hummed in surprise as she screwed it back onto her bottle where it wouldn't be seen again.
Jake had noticed her vaguely when he first walked in, but he was too worried about not making a scene to attempt any small talk halfway through a class he had shown up late to. She stowed away her empty bottle into her red backpack and then zipped it up on her lap. One of the double French-braids of her espresso hair fell down over the front of her jacket as she moved, but she brushed it back over her shoulder like it was nothing. There was embroidery on the front of her warm-up jacket—the school's infamous O logo with two hockey sticks crossed under it and below that in neat capitalized print 'Dobovic'. Jake might have wondered why she was wearing a jacket when it was nearly ninety degrees outside, but given the way the buildings' temperatures fluxed as much as his will to stay awake did, he figured she probably had the right idea to be prepared.
When she stood up, her outfit looked like she was ready to break into a marathon. She had pieced together Nike athletic shorts and a tight-fitted gray tank that clung to her like it was just another layer of skin. Even with how athletic Jake considered himself to be, he knew he wouldn't even hold a match to this girl. Fumbling her backpack loosely over her shoulder, she looked down to Jake and shrugged.
"You leaving?"
"Uh, yeah." Jake grabbed the backpack he hadn't even bothered unpacking from off the floor beside him.
Most of their other classmates had filed out by the time they reached the front of the room. It was a much larger classroom than Jake was used to, organized almost like a lecture hall but without all the stairs. Jake followed her down each row of tables until they reached the door, taking it from her, but handing it off to no one behind him.
She smiled as she waved a greeting to someone walking past, her brown eyes warm as she turned back to Jake. There was kindness in her, a quirky kind of caring that reminded Jake a lot of Aaron. When she offered out her hand to Jake in the hallway as they walked away from the classroom, her grip was comfortable underneath his own. There wasn't an ounce of intimidation in it as he shook it, nothing telling him her friendliness was a trap or that she was set out to use him in any way, shape, or form.
"Nat."
"Jake." He returned.
Her hand dropped back down towards her side, only then the silver ring on her fourth finger caught on the cool white lighting over head. The ring sparkled with the diamonds of engagement and Jake couldn't help but wonder how the hell she was already engaged when he felt like a child getting thrown into a pool for the first time.
"You a freshman?"
"Yeah, you?"
"No, no. Junior." She was quick to correct him.
"What's your major?" Jake found himself asking as they filed behind other classes letting out in front of them, walking in pace behind other students just trying to get down the staircase at the same time.
"Exercise Science."
"What are you doing in stats then?"
She shrugged, her broad shoulders falling down with a sigh. "Same as you, I presume. We're all required to have math credits."
"Right. Not a fan of all the gen-ed stuff."
This got a smile out of Nat, something more mischievous than her previous grin had let through. "None of us are. What are you here for?"
"Natural Resource Management."
This is going to be a mouthful if I have to say it every time.
"Gotcha. One of my housemates is in that. Maybe you'll see her around, Rose Callahan."
Jake smiled. "Suiting name."
"Right?" Nat raised an eyebrow in enthusiasm. "Quite the flower child, if you know what I mean."
He didn't exactly know what she meant, but he wasn't bound to ask.
As they left the building, the sunlight poured onto their faces, sinking into their bones with enough warmth to fuel a fire. It was brighter than it had been all week, taking Jake's squinting to be able to see where Nat was beside him. Her hand was arched over her face for shade as she looked around for someone in the crowd of people they had just walked out with. Jake didn't recognize any of them—nor had he expected to—but she seemed to be able to distinguish between every single one of them.
The trek down the concrete stairs was short, ending with a bright eyed girl with blue hair that handed out a flyer to Nat that she took with a grateful hand.
"Thank you." She said to her, but then handed it off to Jake after they had passed.
"What is it?"
It was a colorful flyer, advertising some sort of religious group that Jake could only make out from the number of religious symbols it had plastered in a circle. He saw a date, a time, and a promise of free pizza, but he had no idea what the event entailed.
"Interfaith group. Rose runs the thing."
"Interfaith?"
"Yep. Muslims, Christians, Jews... the whole shebang." She turned her head, still looking occupied searching for someone else. "If you're into that kind of stuff, they're really nice people. We hosted brunch at the house one time."
"Oh... cool."
He really had no intention of joining any clubs whatsoever, but if it was going to be one, it may have been that one.
"Speaking of... she's over there." Nat tapped Jake's arm with the back of her hand and something about it felt so familiar he smiled.
"Unless you're dropping out, I'll see you next week, yeah?"
He nodded back. "Yeah. Yeah, I'll be here."
"Great. See ya later Jake."
She left him with a smile and a promise of friendship in the future, something Jake wouldn't take for granted as he watched her stride away, waving at another student in the distance. He curled the flyer up into a roll in his hand and set off in the other direction, back towards his dorm room he went—an odd sense of calm washing over him with the confidence that he might not be doing as bad as he thought.
Maybe new won't be so bad.
Despite his best efforts, Jake had undoubtedly showed up late to his first class of the day.
The campus was too big. There were too many buildings, too many hallways, and too many rooms in each hallway. He had been certain he was in the right class the first time, only to find out he was on the wrong floor ten minutes into Intro to Social Justice. All of Jake's greatest fears from earlier that morning had been confirmed when he sprinted upstairs to the right classroom, to find only one seat open in the middle of the room.
He hated sitting in the middle of the room. Even the front wouldn't have been as bad as where he was now. Okay, maybe it would've been. No, it would've been worse.
Jake needed to be in the back of the room most of the time. It was a compulsion he couldn't shake that he was safest with his back against the wall, being able to see everyone in front of him without any of them knowing he existed lingering behind them. Even if he didn't realize he was doing it, he needed to see people, to read people, to assess situations from as far away as possible. It made him comfortable, and somehow his teachers in high school never mentioned his fascination with a seat in the last row. But even by leaving early, by setting out to choose the perfect seat before everyone else arrived, he still managed to end up in the middle. Surrounded.
He didn't know why he needed Statistics to begin with when he had no intent whatsoever of pursuing a career in math, but the two dreary emails he received from his advisor last month said he was required to take it, forcing Jake to stuff away his energy to fight it as he grumbled through his boring first semester schedule with her. It was quite a lackluster schedule he had to admit. Monday held Statistics and a Composition course he was highly advised not to drop, Tuesday and Thursday held Intro to Environmental Science, Wednesday was some first-year seminar a couple guys from his dorm were in, and he had somehow managed to end up with Fridays free. He considered it a small blessing and didn't complain.
But starting off his week with Statistics of all things was going to be the test of his patience.
The professor's voice was not as monotone as it could be, but sounded just as tired as Jake felt. She dragged through the syllabus—noting assignment deadlines, exam periods, the grading scale and all the other institutional technicalities she was required to say. In the end, her spiel ended up only taking forty minutes of her allotted class time. Just as soon as Jake had started to feel comfortable with his new arrangement, she dismissed the class and sent his mind reeling to find something to fill the two hour gap before his next class. He watched the shuffle of students around him, returning a bit of life to their days as they took up conversation with each other and shifted out of stiff seats, but he wasn't necessarily eager to do the same.
"Humans share fifty percent of their DNA with bananas."
The voice to his right was loud enough to be heard, but not pointed enough to be directed towards anyone in particular. Jake couldn't help but swivel his head over to where it came from, because there was no way in hell he heard that right. Who the fuck is talking about DNA in a math class?
"What?" He asked out of pure curiosity to the person sitting next to him.
She smiled as she gained his attention, tilting her head back to finish the last of the peach Snapple she held in her hand. Her eyebrows raised at him like she was getting ready to talk as she put the glass back down on the table in front of her, rolling over the round metal cap in her fingers so he could see.
"Humans share fifty percent of their DNA with bananas." She repeated, and this time Jake read the words from the inside of the cap as they left her mouth.
He hummed in surprise as she screwed it back onto her bottle where it wouldn't be seen again.
Jake had noticed her vaguely when he first walked in, but he was too worried about not making a scene to attempt any small talk halfway through a class he had shown up late to. She stowed away her empty bottle into her red backpack and then zipped it up on her lap. One of the double French-braids of her espresso hair fell down over the front of her jacket as she moved, but she brushed it back over her shoulder like it was nothing. There was embroidery on the front of her warm-up jacket—the school's infamous O logo with two hockey sticks crossed under it and below that in neat capitalized print 'Dobovic'. Jake might have wondered why she was wearing a jacket when it was nearly ninety degrees outside, but given the way the buildings' temperatures fluxed as much as his will to stay awake did, he figured she probably had the right idea to be prepared.
When she stood up, her outfit looked like she was ready to break into a marathon. She had pieced together Nike athletic shorts and a tight-fitted gray tank that clung to her like it was just another layer of skin. Even with how athletic Jake considered himself to be, he knew he wouldn't even hold a match to this girl. Fumbling her backpack loosely over her shoulder, she looked down to Jake and shrugged.
"You leaving?"
"Uh, yeah." Jake grabbed the backpack he hadn't even bothered unpacking from off the floor beside him.
Most of their other classmates had filed out by the time they reached the front of the room. It was a much larger classroom than Jake was used to, organized almost like a lecture hall but without all the stairs. Jake followed her down each row of tables until they reached the door, taking it from her, but handing it off to no one behind him.
She smiled as she waved a greeting to someone walking past, her brown eyes warm as she turned back to Jake. There was kindness in her, a quirky kind of caring that reminded Jake a lot of Aaron. When she offered out her hand to Jake in the hallway as they walked away from the classroom, her grip was comfortable underneath his own. There wasn't an ounce of intimidation in it as he shook it, nothing telling him her friendliness was a trap or that she was set out to use him in any way, shape, or form.
"Nat."
"Jake." He returned.
Her hand dropped back down towards her side, only then the silver ring on her fourth finger caught on the cool white lighting over head. The ring sparkled with the diamonds of engagement and Jake couldn't help but wonder how the hell she was already engaged when he felt like a child getting thrown into a pool for the first time.
"You a freshman?"
"Yeah, you?"
"No, no. Junior." She was quick to correct him.
"What's your major?" Jake found himself asking as they filed behind other classes letting out in front of them, walking in pace behind other students just trying to get down the staircase at the same time.
"Exercise Science."
"What are you doing in stats then?"
She shrugged, her broad shoulders falling down with a sigh. "Same as you, I presume. We're all required to have math credits."
"Right. Not a fan of all the gen-ed stuff."
This got a smile out of Nat, something more mischievous than her previous grin had let through. "None of us are. What are you here for?"
"Natural Resource Management."
This is going to be a mouthful if I have to say it every time.
"Gotcha. One of my housemates is in that. Maybe you'll see her around, Rose Callahan."
Jake smiled. "Suiting name."
"Right?" Nat raised an eyebrow in enthusiasm. "Quite the flower child, if you know what I mean."
He didn't exactly know what she meant, but he wasn't bound to ask.
As they left the building, the sunlight poured onto their faces, sinking into their bones with enough warmth to fuel a fire. It was brighter than it had been all week, taking Jake's squinting to be able to see where Nat was beside him. Her hand was arched over her face for shade as she looked around for someone in the crowd of people they had just walked out with. Jake didn't recognize any of them—nor had he expected to—but she seemed to be able to distinguish between every single one of them.
The trek down the concrete stairs was short, ending with a bright eyed girl with blue hair that handed out a flyer to Nat that she took with a grateful hand.
"Thank you." She said to her, but then handed it off to Jake after they had passed.
"What is it?"
It was a colorful flyer, advertising some sort of religious group that Jake could only make out from the number of religious symbols it had plastered in a circle. He saw a date, a time, and a promise of free pizza, but he had no idea what the event entailed.
"Interfaith group. Rose runs the thing."
"Interfaith?"
"Yep. Muslims, Christians, Jews... the whole shebang." She turned her head, still looking occupied searching for someone else. "If you're into that kind of stuff, they're really nice people. We hosted brunch at the house one time."
"Oh... cool."
He really had no intention of joining any clubs whatsoever, but if it was going to be one, it may have been that one.
"Speaking of... she's over there." Nat tapped Jake's arm with the back of her hand and something about it felt so familiar he smiled.
"Unless you're dropping out, I'll see you next week, yeah?"
He nodded back. "Yeah. Yeah, I'll be here."
"Great. See ya later Jake."
She left him with a smile and a promise of friendship in the future, something Jake wouldn't take for granted as he watched her stride away, waving at another student in the distance. He curled the flyer up into a roll in his hand and set off in the other direction, back towards his dorm room he went—an odd sense of calm washing over him with the confidence that he might not be doing as bad as he thought.
Maybe new won't be so bad.
End of Far From Home Chapter 2. Continue reading Chapter 3 or return to Far From Home book page.