Chapter 6: First Semester in College

Alex was putting the plates and tableware on the dinner table.

"So, son, how was your first day as a college student?" Alex's father asked.

"Confusing. I expected to have trouble finding my way around. But it wasn't too bad. I memorized the names of the buildings, and the rooms were generally in numeric order — except in Cooper Hall where they must have subdivided some large rooms and decided not to renumber old doors. No, the real problem was professors assuming all the students have been there for years. Which may have been reasonable except for transfers. And me.

"For instance, what does 'I will be keeping my regular office hours' mean? Or 'the homework will be posted on the left door.' Or even 'use the small lab server for compilation?' Argh!"

"You will figure it out, dear. You always do," Alex's mother said.

"Probably. I had an interesting conversation today in the admission office. Did you know freshmen had to live on campus?"

"No! But you're too young!" Alex's mother did not look happy.

"You are a bit young. And what about food and laundry?" asked his father. He wasn't too enthusiastic, but less distressed than his wife.

"They finally decided that they will waive it for the spring semester. It's a bit difficult to find a space mid-year, although they were willing to find one. Apparently a few students drop out or transfer out every winter. But various complications, plus figuring out other logistics like the meal plan, and financial aid implications scared them off. I think they will press for it again for the fall semester, though. They want to slot me into a regular student program.

"Financial aid, huh? Actually, how did that work out?" his father asked with a great deal of interest. The state university had very reasonable tuition for residents, being partly subsidized with taxpayer money, but with books and lab fees, it was not cheap. Alex's parents were comfortable, and were saving for Alex to go to college. However, his admission was occurring a lot sooner than planned, and they were looking at expenses carefully.

"Not too bad. Due to the kind intervention of Dean Wu, my tuition will be paid for, and I will get reimbursed for textbooks and lab fees. With me living at home and eating mostly here, my main expense will be the bus fare. That's one thing that would have been more convenient if I lived on campus. I don't enjoy wasting almost two hours a day on the bus. If I time it just right, it's one and a half hours per day. I really wish I could get a driver's license."

His parents ignored that, as it wasn't the first time he expressed it. Like many parents of teenagers, they wished to put off the anxiety and the insurance premiums caused by their children behind the wheel.

Alex didn't mention the other thing he found out at the financial aid office. Most of the research assistant jobs were considered part of the financial aid, distributed long before the start of the academic year, and went to the most senior graduate and a very few undergraduate students. It would be difficult to get one, even for the following year. A few of the professors were impressed by him, but they didn't have the budget for more positions until summer, and even then it would be hard to prevail over students who've been in their departments for years. Some of the graduate students even had families, and needed the income far more than a fourteen-year-old boy living with his parents.

"Why so glum? Having problems controlling nuclear fusion?" joked Nick. It was Thursday, and Alex was hanging out in the food court with several of his old school chums. Nick had no interest in physics, but he and Alex had talked several times about Nick's first love: Chaucer. Lately, Nick has been re-reading Spencer, and muttering about "Prothalamion". Alex and five of his long-time school friends often met on Thursday afternoons. Most preferred science or math, but Nick was the token English geek. They all got along well and liked to make jokes based on obscure facts. The first person to get the reference got a high-five or a slap on the shoulder, but Alex had a one-minute handicap voted three years earlier as otherwise he got almost all quotes first.

"Nah, it's too boring. Fusion is meant to be free, ranging among the galaxies and comets, not squished into some scientist's test tube. Or a magnetic bottle," answered Alex. He didn't go into his attempts to get a job at the college.

"You should have seen Jill," Jerry said. "She came in a T-shirt and jeans so tight and so thin, you could count the hairs through the material. She is now going out with Bill, who just turned nineteen, and has a beard. They can hardly keep their hands off each other. Actually, they can't, and have been warned twice by the teachers."

Most of the night's conversation had been an exchange of stories about the boys' respective educational institutions. Alex was amused by the antics of the post-holiday students. His friends took a mixture of classes, often combining classes from all four grades of high school. His friend Jerry took senior (12th grade) chemistry, junior math, sophomore history and freshman English. The seniors were a bit wild after the break, perhaps feeling their proximity to adulthood and independence. The younger students were just glum, as the school vacation was forgotten, the early winter excitement of snow had long-since dissipated with boredom, dirty slush on the road, early dusk, and the spring holidays far in the future.

"Hey, Alex, do you remember Karen? I think you used to go out with her. She has broken up with Jack Kerrough from the football team and is going out with Marcus. I think she changes her boyfriends on the first Monday of every month," contributed Nick. Alex hoped nobody saw him wince.

His friends were impressed by Alex's stories of the college life. The large campus, the chaos of different teaching styles (Alex didn't mention that the more senior and graduate classes tended to be a lot more eclectic than the larger and more structured first- and second-year courses), the need to buy textbooks and various supplements were all very novel to them.

A couple of his friends really liked math. When pressed, Alex described a couple of problems assigned in his Algebraic Geometry class. They were not really aware of the types of books, journals and white papers Alex had been reading. Therefore they were stunned when they could barely grasp the concepts he was studying. Alex thought the assignments were rather straightforward himself, but did not share that opinion.

Both sides, Alex and his high school friends, found each other's stories interesting, but Alex could foresee where his rather limited nostalgia, and the other boys curiosity regarding something made abstract by being years into their future, would pall. With some regret, he thought that they would get together less and less often, and would find less to discuss when they did get together.

It was the third week of classes, and Alex was comfortable finding buildings, taking shortcuts across the lawns, and identifying room numbers. He was actually several minutes early for his Game Theory class and managed a conversation with pretty and ever-cheerful Sandra who was working on her MBA. Alex slowly worked to sit closer to her over several classes. He found that she hummed softly when concentrating on a problem. Last time he recognized Ravel's "Tzigane". He was grateful for his sharp hearing. Sandra was humming in tune, and he actually enjoyed listening to her. As well as looking at her from the corner of his eye.

"You have been rather quiet in class, Alex. Any problems with the material?"

"No problems with the class. I have been focusing on doing my homework when I am not concentrating on the lecture."

"You do your homework in class?" Sandra was surprised.

"Yes, I like it that Professor Chittapily writes down the problems on the board at the beginning of class. I can look them up and start doing them right here," Alex said, not mentioning that he not only started but often finished the homework assignment, and started reading ahead.

"You look a bit young for a grad student. Is this your first year?" Alex's height, and the fact that he was in college, usually caused the people to assume he was at least eighteen. A very young-looking eighteen.

"Actually, I am jumping ahead. I'm still an undergraduate." Alex once again was understating things a bit. "But I hope to get my degree soon if I can test out of some courses."

"Good luck. Is this your first class of the day? I can usually just make the nine o'clock lecture, but it's a struggle. I once had a required course at eight; I nearly failed it."

"It is my first class, but I am early riser. I usually try to run or swim before class."

"Good for you. It's really easy to let yourself go in grad school, but I can see it's not a problem for you." Sandra grinned, looking frankly at Alex.

"I would return the compliment, except it would be damning you with faint praise. Your figure is not just not a problem, it's an inspiration for exercise!" Alex grinned while saying exercise, hinting of things other than running or swimming. "There is a 'Paganini Inspiration' Concert at the student center this Friday. Any interest in violin music?"

"Down boy!" Sandra said, but she was smiling. "I have a boyfriend, but I can't fault your taste ... in music," she smirked. "You are also a bit young for me. But I will keep you in mind if one of my girlfriends needs a young, studious, clever and hunky escort for a concert."

Alex blushed.

Alex did not actually enjoy the rejection, but it was almost worth it for the delightful way she declined. And his expectation of success had been pretty low. He wanted to hum himself as Professor Chittapily was writing down the homework problems.

With his student ID, Alex could now use the university sports center. There were few people using it early in the morning. He often had a pool lane to himself, and he found it more convenient and cheaper than the Y. He often got to the campus early and swam. There were a number of other facilities available, including a number of resistance machines and an indoor running track. Alex still preferred running around his house, but in bad weather, he started taking the early bus and run indoors.

He slowly, very slowly, was getting better at swimming. It wasn't quite as odious, but it was still pretty boring. He tried to improve his form, but beyond the obvious mistakes which increased his water resistance, it was hard to gauge the quality of his movements. He would need a trainer, but didn't want to get into any kind of formal program in college. Every week or so, Alex would spend an hour on resistance machines, staying out of the way of anybody looking serious and focused on his program.

Alex's performance at the Dojo improved. He was still awkward, and his balance continued to come and go as he kept growing, but either he was getting more resigned to being awkward, or he was actually learning to cope with changes in his body length, strength and reaction. He was still worse than in the previous year, except for the reach. Every now and then he was actually able to make use of his longer arms or legs in sparring; more often though, he ended up giving points to Gloria and Alexander. He was still a bit infatuated with Gloria, and almost enjoyed being thrown by her. Not so much Alexander — but oh well, sparring with Alexander built character.