Time warp. You have exactly two weeks to squeeze in a summer's worth of bonding with your life at home. And if you worked C & R, you have two seconds, but never mind that, you can fit it in.
Home: work-free, hassle-free.
Right. Your best friend from high school is taking summer classes and working five jobs. Your best friend from second grade is getting married on July 29. The ex-serious-relationship monster looms near, breathing heavily down your neck.
Your mom oversees the unpacking process, or lack thereof. After all, with two weeks at home, why not just live out of suitcases, or crates, whichever the case may be.
Your baby sister shoves a picture in front of your face. Attempting to focus, you realize that the stunning girl in the long red dress is your not-so-baby sister. As she jabbers excitedly about the prom and her crew-cut-haired boyfriend, you simply have to smile. A genuine smile.
As life would have it, you are soon face-to-face with the ex-serious-relationship's new serious-relationship. Lovely. Race relations in Greenwich, Conn. are making headlines everywhere, but only on the last page of The Small-Town Daily News. Mom points out the little or no progress in the unpacking process and Best Friend gets sick with strep throat.
Time warp. You are on the plane, train, automobile back to Dartmouth for the summer. Something in the furthest reaches of your mind recalls suddenly how gorgeous the New Hampshire mountains can be. Lifting your eyes, the green immensity overloads your senses. How could you ever have forgotten, even for a moment, how beautiful it is here?
Driving past the Green, something stirs inside your heart. A feeling of returning rushes over you. Returning home? Two years ago, Dartmouth was a glimmer, a mere dream yet to be discovered.
A new room awaits, complete with crates to empty and shelves to organize. With a start, you find yourself wishing your mom were there to direct the unpacking.
Halfway finished, your room looks small and cave-like. You sigh. A break is in order. You wander outside, past your ex's dorm. Sadly, you wonder how her post-graduation job in Los Angeles is measuring up. You wonder if he is enjoying his time in Paris, New York, Kansas City. A fleeting grudge against the D-Plan swells from the bottom of your soul, but you decide to be benevolent and forgive that nasty relationship-killer. Maybe in nine months neither of you will have changed too much. Now that's convincing.
BlitzMail. The modem you bought is not even considering working. You swear you hear it snickering smugly amidst the rubble on your desk. Forget it. Collis has BlitzMail. If you could find the jack for the phone, you'd be calling your ex from home or your ex from school -- who cares if she's in Barcelona? You need some comfort and security and you need it now.
Enter your best friend at college. Just in time. The two of you go out to dinner, flashing your Green Cards because already, you are too lazy to cook.
After dinner, it is finally time to take time out. A jog. Old comfortable running shoes and a beautiful night. Perfect. The sun sets on dear old Dartmouth and you finally begin to unwind, one step, step, step at a time.
Thoughts blaze through your mind at the pace of your feet. You'll miss your friends from home; you'll miss your family. Of course you will always remember your first love. Who doesn't?
But your legs feel strong and you wonder if the pavement is infused with something special. You feel the impact your steps make; the ground almost shakes. It is exhilarating.
The darkness envelopes your working muscles. As your foot touches the edge of the Green, your body turns instinctively and impulsively towards the center. You smile slightly because you understand what your body has in mind. Running through the center, the water from the three sprinklers collides with your skin. You can just see the water drip from your hair and a small exhalation of pleasure escapes between breaths.
For a moment, you feel invincible.
You watch the imprints your feet make on the soft, wet earth, wondering at this place which captures and mystifies you so completely. The ground quivers under your feet and in return, sends shivers up your spine. There is something almost majestic about the Green on a night like this; there is something almost magical about the two months that lay before us.
Welcome to sophomore summer. See you at the rope swing.
