And Then There Was Victor

Chapter 26

Victor did not come on Monday and I felt a wave of relief. I figured he was still dealing with his father and getting him settled. The letter burned a hole in me, carrying as I did in my pocket, I felt seventy-five pounds heavier. I let Professor Allens know I had been accepted and he grunted that I better keep my grades crisp if I wanted to make it out there. He also gave me a list of books I should read before even stepping foot on a plane to Chicago; Hardy, Austen, Bulgakov, Tolstoy, Cervantes, Garcia-Marquez, Kerouac, Dickens, Bronte, Hemingway, Twain, Faulkner, Nabokov, Orwell, countless others. The list was so long that immediately got anxiety and I found myself in the library with a copy of As I Lay Dying and Emma in my hands. I was bogged down with papers to do, projects to complete, and now a list of books to read all through my Winter break.

I stayed up until 2 am reading and working on projects and I was so tired on Tuesday that I had forgotten I promised myself to speak to Victor and tell him about Chicago. I spotted him standing in the Atrium and he looked normal. Happy and carefree, nothing of the guy I had witnessed on Saturday. I was a coward and I stepped into the Advising office to make sure I was placed on the waiting list for the Russian Literature class I needed to take in the Spring, my advisor assured me I could be penciled in given my acceptance into Chicago. When I finished in the advising office Victor was gone and the masses had scattered. I didn't see him again until I was done with classes and I snuck into the library, found my usual corner and tried to press through pages of Emma.

An hour later a bag was dropped next to me and I looked up to find Victor staring at me with a curious expression.

"You're avoiding me," he said as he sat down. I noticed the length of his legs.

"Why would I avoid you?" I moved my bag to allow him more room.

"Excellent question," he turned to stare at me.

I closed Emma and gave him a small smile. "How's your dad?"

He nodded. "Good. Liam arrived yesterday."

"Good."

"Good?" He shook his head. "You're turtling."

"What the heck is that?" I let out a laugh.

"You turtle. Something is on your mind or too hard and you turtle."

I suppose he had a point. I chewed on my nails as I watched him pull out his books and notes. I braced myself and I pulled out my letter, it was already crumbled and stained with a soda I had drunk earlier. He watched me and then took the letter I offered him. He opened it and I observed him as he read, his brows knitting. When he finished, he looked up at me, carefully folding my letter back and handing it back to me.

"You're going?" He asked, his voice deceptively calm.

"I want to," I said.

He nodded, still looking at me. "Congratulations."

A thick lump formed in my neck, a fishbone, hard and unyielding.

"You get to leave Kissimmee, see the world, all that you want," he said.

"I've never said that."

"You didn't have to," he smiled. "I know you enough maybe because I also feel that way."

I stared at him wanting desperately, for a mad moment, to tell him to come with me but then realizing he couldn't. He couldn't leave his family, his mom and his dad. He was chained and I thought what an awful tragedy, a bird such as he should be allowed to soar, to take to the skies and paint the world with his plumage.