Chapter 7: Shopping Around

I got my first commission check just in time. Freshman orientation was the next day and I had books to buy. My carefully rationed out money was nearly gone. I’d managed to live three months on $2,200. My commission check was for nearly $2,500. I’d made the first hurdle. I also got word from Jim that my new apartment would be ready to move into on Labor Day, the second. I was going to have a home with more than a mattress on the floor and a few kitchen items. I picked up four boxes from the convenience store on the corner and got ready to pack my meager belongings.

Lily, my admissions counselor, managed to get me a tuition waiver. It was odd. There were no scholarships or grants available by the time I’d applied and even student loans were at a premium because of the high default rate. Twelve percent interest. And that was government subsidized! My tuition waiver was good for one term and renewable at the discretion of the provost. Lily advised me that I should start saving for tuition for second term because there was no guarantee that the waiver would be renewed. It would depend not only on my need and performance, but on the needs of other students that came to the attention of the provost.

We’d met frequently during the summer and she asked how my work was going and whether I was earning any money. She’d actually come to freshman orientation intending to front me the money for my textbooks.

“I got paid!” I screamed when I saw her. I’d brought in seven listings for the company over the summer and the first one closed the day before orientation. Lily was impressed.

“You really did it! I’m so proud of you! After orientation, we’ll celebrate with a pizza and a beer.”

“Oh, I can’t drink beer,” I said. She looked at me. I’d had no alcohol since the night I got knocked up.

“I forgot. When I was a student, we could drink 3.2 beer at 19. I was thinking of picking up the pizza and a six-pack and going to my place. You can crash there so you don’t appear in public. I’ll limit you.”

“I ... uh ... actually don’t drink. I’d love pizza and a Coke, though.” Fuck! Coke was probably just as bad for the baby as alcohol. But I hadn’t had a soft drink in three months. I couldn’t afford it.

“Okay. I’m not a pusher. I know half the students in orientation will be soused by midnight. Things get a little crazy the first week of school,” Lily said. She looked at me a little strangely and then sent me on ahead to my first session.

I attended every session religiously. I didn’t want to get tripped up by some rule or activity I didn’t know about. Over half the sessions were irrelevant. Things like the importance of paying your student loans, how to get a parking permit, student housing, and what gate to use at the football stadium. There were as many parents in the sessions as there were students. I guess they wanted to make sure their kids attended. Most of the kids looked pretty irresponsible. And I guess there were sessions just for parents because precious little junior was eighteen now and parents would not be receiving report cards. Some of them were pissed off.

On the other hand, some sessions were vitally important. Like student healthcare. All I had to do was show up at the student clinic. I hadn’t had a prenatal appointment at all. The only doctor who knew I was pregnant was the guy who examined me and pronounced me pregnant and healthy at the abortion clinic. I was five months now and even dressing in a baggy U of M jersey I bought on sale, I was beginning to show.

If I went to Lily’s house for the night tonight, she was going to figure it out. There was also a good session on campus safety. It scared me. The University of Minnesota main campus is pretty huge. It sprawled on both sides of the Mississippi River and I had classes on both banks. They reminded us that there were predators in every town and to guard ourselves by acting responsibly. There was also a dire threat implied to any potential predator that was in the orientation.

At least there was no rule against going to college while I was pregnant. They’d have thrown me out of high school. I’d be headed for that clinic on Monday right after my last class. I’d have the form with me that allowed me to get coverage for my dependents at almost no cost.

I kept an eye out during the orientation to try to find a roommate. I didn’t want to advertise. I needed to find someone who could use free room in exchange for sharing the cleaning duties in the apartment building when I got too pregnant to haul the vacuum around. I was hoping I’d find someone who would also contribute to childcare. It wasn’t the kind of person who’d just answer an ad for a roommate. I spotted one or two, and chatted them up during breaks like I would a sales associate at a Realtor’s meeting. I always hated the schmoozing part of real estate. I was basically a shy person. Maybe not shy, but private. The person I was looking for was going to be unique. I’d have to share parts of myself I could never share with anyone else.

“Hey, isn’t this sweet?” a guy said, sidling up to me with a soft drink in his hand at break. “No more parents looking over our shoulders. I met some guys who have a place for a big party tonight. Keg and all. And I’ve got a baggie. Want to come with me?”

I stared at him with my eyes reduced to slits. He was in his own world.

“My brother told me what to look for when I came to college. He said the girls in baggy clothes hid killer bodies. I’d like to get to know yours.”

“How about you get lost, instead.”

“Hey! No reason to get all defensive. We’re all here for the same reason, right?”

“To get an education.”

“Yeah. Right. Good luck, bitch,” he sneered and walked away. Guys were such jerks.