Chapter 19: University Bound

August 29, 1981

The rest of the summer went by at warp speed. When I wasn't slaving away at work, I aimed to spend as much time with Evie as I could, realizing that our time as a couple was dwindling down.

Now, it was exactly one week before we'd be leaving for college and freshman orientation. The switchover to the college mindset began in earnest today.

Late that Saturday afternoon, our little group of prom outcasts reunited for dinner at the local Ground Round. Or rather, five-sixths of our group. I tried my best to talk the lone holdout into coming, but she refused to budge.

"You guys are all going away to college," Eileen protested. "I'm just starting my junior year in high school. You'll be talking about college stuff. I'll feel left out."

I continued to reason with her, but I finally gave up, figuring that it was her business. I knew very well the sole source of her aversion to attending: Dave. Maybe she was uncomfortable with the "couples" vibe that would prevail at a gathering like this. Maybe coming along would force her to reopen, if only for a short while, a door she'd declared closed. Or maybe she simply didn't want to re-awaken dormant memories and feelings.

Avoidance. A human tendency. One of the big reasons why it's so hard for people who've been romantically involved to remain friends afterward. Thankfully, I knew Evie and I were not like that.

So it was just the five of us. To accommodate Patti, we sat at a regular table rather than a booth. Although no one wanted to think of it as a farewell gathering, all of us knew that it was possibly the last time we'd be together as a group, certainly in the foreseeable future. Dave, Evie, and I were going in one direction for college, Patti in another, and Rick in yet another. As a result, the atmosphere was subdued and reflective.

Dave and Rick got into in a conversation about cars. Dave was planning to get a car of his own this week, to use at college, and Rick was good friends with someone who worked at an auto dealership. This allowed Evie and me to update Patti on our relationship, and the decision we'd made.

"I admire you both for having the strength to do something like that," Patti told us. "I'm not sure I could do it myself. That's one of the reasons I've sworn off relationships for now."

"I can't wait to get started with college," Evie threw in, "so I can stop looking at relationships as an inconvenience." All three of us laughed, but her point was well taken.

"I do have one piece of advice for you," said Patti. "Don't fall into the avoidance trap. Continue to lean on one other. The two of you have a very special connection. Don't throw it away."

"We won't," I said confidently. "The difference with us is that we already know how to be friends."

That was more true than either of them knew.

We all shared a few more laughs and a few more memories. Finally, the waitress brought us the check. Patti, who was unfailingly prepared for everything, brought out a pen and a piece of paper, which she tore into four pieces. She wrote her campus address on each of them, then handed them out to the four of us.

"As soon as you find out your addresses and phone numbers," she said, "send them to me." We all promised to do so.

Patti would be leaving for Baltimore on Monday, and this was the last time any of us would see her before then. We helped her stand up, and she hugged each of us.

"Take care, Dreamy," Patti said to me, uncharacteristically short of words, her eyes moist. She gave me a hug that was heartfelt, not at all like the one she'd delivered at graduation, which had been exaggerated and at least partly designed to embarrass me in a friendly way.

"Keep in touch, okay?" I told her, my voice unsteady. I knew I'd miss her a whole lot. She had taught me so much about the power of conviction and perseverance.

Finally, Patti said goodbye to Evie; I knew this was difficult for both of them. They'd been close friends since well before I'd arrived in this timeline. Sobs escaped from both of them as they hugged.

I had to turn away. I couldn't bear to watch. Even though the circumstances were very different, it made me think about what would happen later in the week between Evie and I.

I gave Rick a firm handshake.

"Good luck down there in Tar Heel country," I said to him. Rick would be attending the University of North Carolina; he was the long-distance adventurer among us.

During the drive to her house, Evie was quiet, and I could tell that she was fighting back tears. I reached out with my right hand and took her left hand in mine. I worked the steering wheel with just my left hand.

Eventually, she spoke.

"This is gonna be a rough week."

September 3, 1981

The countdown had reached two. Two more days till the big move. An unusual, and in a way quite fortuitous, series of events had provided me with an afternoon alone in our house.

Dad, of course, was at work. Eileen had gone to the beach with some friends. Mom and Seamus had left for an afternoon of store-hopping, to pick up back-to-school clothes and supplies. I almost felt as though Mom knew what was going on in my life, and had afforded me some privacy. I couldn't say for sure.

And naturally, I invited Evie over. We both knew that tomorrow would be an extremely busy day for us both, and we'd have little time to spend together.

Thus, we mutually decided that today would be our much-dreaded "transition day".

I knew how much Evie enjoyed making love in a bed. I wanted this to be extra special; fate had had mercy on me on this day. We laid down together on my bed, kissing and caressing each other softly, whispering in the other's ear, while slowly undressing each other. We studiously avoided using words like "last" and "final", not only because we weren't sure if those descriptors were even applicable, but because of the emotional weight they carried.

I moved between her legs and started to eat her. I knew how much she enjoyed that act, and I loved doing it for her. After she came, I wrapped us both up in the bed sheet, cocoon style. I climbed on top of her, put on a condom, and very gently and deliberately entered her. We established a slow rhythm designed to make it last as long as possible. When I finally came, I stayed buried inside her afterward, my cock shrinking but nonetheless allowing us to prolong the experience of being coupled. I told her, again, that I loved her. I had no reservations about saying that to Evie, even under these conditions; I knew without a doubt that she understood what I meant. Truth is, I'd always loved her, even in the other life. And I knew that she felt the same about me. It just so happened that, until the last few months, the stars had never aligned in such a way to allow us to act on those feelings. I also believed that no matter what happened from here on out, a part of me would always love her.

I pulled out of her, and sat up slowly. I had thought of something that would get our minds off of the transition, and into looking ahead together.

"Did you bring your class schedule with you?" I asked her.

"It's in my purse."

"Let's get dressed, then bring it out."

We compared our schedules, and found that we'd have plenty of opportunities during the week to meet up at the dining hall to eat together. That cheered her up quite a bit, and me also. It was actually a relief to be talking about the future, rather than dwelling on the past.

There was one thing that concerned her a little, although because of my pre-knowledge, it didn't faze me even a little bit.

"I'll be living on the main campus," she pointed out, "but you'll be on an entirely different campus!"

Rutgers is a huge university, geographically speaking. There is the main campus near downtown New Brunswick, and a few satellite campuses scattered around the outlying area. For freshmen, housing assignments were doled out randomly, with little regard to where the majority of one's classes were. There was an inter-campus bus system, though, that greatly simplified the process of getting about. Evie (and Dave, too) would be living on the downtown campus, while I would be out in the sticks.

Why didn't it faze me? Because it had been that way in the other timeline, too, and it didn't prevent us from becoming close friends. As a matter of fact, Dave, Evie and I had gotten the exact same housing assignments we'd gotten last time. I wasn't surprised about that, had even fully expected it; here was another data point in my time-travel analysis, supporting the notion that things seemed to proceed as before, as long as I avoided sticking my fingers into things.

Still, I had to be sensitive to her worries.

"We'll only be about two miles apart," I assured her, "which means we'll actually be living closer to each other than we do now. And we both have cars."

"Good point," she smiled. "You always know how to make me feel better."

Her expression transitioned back over to serious.

"Promise me one thing," she went on, an imploring tone in her voice. "Please continue to talk to me the way you always have. It means so much to me. I want to hear everything that's going on in your life. Your troubles, your dreams, everything. Just promise me that."

"You got it, hon. Count on it. And I need you to do the same for me. Okay?"

"You bet."

"So, what do we do now, since we've officially broken up?" I asked her.

"I'm hungry."

"Let's go out for some Chinese."

"Great idea!"

And we did, and as always, we had a wonderful time.

September 5, 1981

New Brunswick, New Jersey

I reached into the back of my parents' station wagon and took out a plastic milk crate, one of the staples of early '80s university dorm life, packed with folded-up socks, underwear, T-shirts and a few small sundry items. I handed it to Seamus, who'd been waiting in the car, messing around with some crude vintage hand-held video game.

"This one's lighter than the other one," I told him. "I'll grab the heavy one. Let's bring them up. Then you, me and Dad can grab my stereo, my records, and my TV. After that, we only have clothes left."

I shut the back of the wagon, and walked with Seamus up to the dorm lobby. Inside the elevator, I pressed the button for the third floor. I greeted several other students along the way, who of course were not acquaintances of mine at this point. However, I'd already spotted a few people that I'd known in the other life.

"Cool! You get to ride an elevator all the time?" Seamus blabbered.

In the other life, as a college freshman, I'd have been mortified to have my kid brother helping me move into the dorm, not to mention making comments like that. But not having a brother in that life had given me almost infinite patience with him in this one.

"Sure," I grinned. "Come up here on the weekend, and you can ride up and down all you want."

Dad, Mom and Eileen were waiting upstairs. Again, the other me would never have tolerated them hanging out in my new digs. And again, my adult perspective allowed me to appreciate their help and support.

I'd made the drive up the turnpike in my car, alone, earlier in the day. I needed to check into the dorm, get a parking pass for the car, and pick up a bunch of paperwork about orientation. My parents and two siblings had followed later in the station wagon, which had been packed from one end to the other with my belongings. They'd met me in the dorm parking lot.

"Need your help downstairs, Dad. The electronic stuff is next," I said.

Mom, meanwhile, started to put my socks and underwear in the drawers of the cheap particle board dressers that were a fixture in every dorm room.

"Thanks, Mom," I said, once more responding in a manner that the other me never would have.

We brought up my stereo, four more milk crates stuffed with albums, and my TV, a squat, bulky twelve-inch black and white dinosaur that had stayed with me all four years of college in the other life.