I toss the TV remote away, climb from the bed, and begin to undress for the night.

Maybe I went to coffee with Neil because he isn’t my type and I’m not emotionally done with Alan, even if Alan is emotionally done with me. I knew when I left New York we were over. Still, I wasn’t prepared to open a newspaper in August to learn that Alan had married Nia. Nope, I didn’t expected that one or that our ending would be such a clean ending. Seven months. Not one call from Alan. No letter. Not even a token gift sent. Just over.

I rummage through my drawers and lift out Alan’s t-shirt, the one I took the last day we were together. For some reason, I want to wear it tonight. I pull it over my head, shut off the TV, and climb into bed.

So much has changed and it’s only been half a year since spring break.  Neil Stanton became a janitor. Alan Manzone married Nia. Rene studies more nights than she parties. And I’m lost and alone at Berkeley.

It seems life pushes us all onto roads we never expect.

CHAPTER TWO

I collapse back onto my bed. It’s finally Friday. I’ve made it through another week here. God, how pathetic is that? I make a mental note of each week of class I’ve survived at Cal.

I roll over and check the clock on my nightstand. Where’s Rene? It’s after five p.m., her classes ended at one today, and she’s always here at the condo when I get home from my theater class. I go to the kitchen to see if she left a note. Nothing.

I grab the wine from the fridge. I stare at the bottle, then roll my eyes. Rene and her little fancy frou-frou ways. She thinks drinking only white wine makes her look more sophisticated. We drink one day a week because her biology program is really intense, for all that I give her crap over her turbo-focused, nonstop studying. We only drink on Fridays, and she calls it California Chardonnay Friday. She can be so pretentious at times.

Well, I guess I’m going to have Chardonnay Friday alone tonight. I pour myself a glass and go into the living room, settling on the couch. I grab the TV remote and start clicking through channels. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. I stop. An entertainment news magazine show. That’ll work.

I reach for my wine and the phone rings. Good. Maybe it’s Rene. She can tell me what’s up with the disappearing act, and why she ditched me on a Friday night.

“Hello,” I say into the receiver.

“How’s everything going with you, Chrissie?”

Jack. I smile. “Great, Daddy. Just finished my midterms and I’m just chilling out tonight.”

“Well, see that you don’t have too much fun. You still have a lot of school left before the end of the semester. Pace yourself.”

I roll my eyes. Jack definitely worries a lot more about me since New York than he did before Alan.

I take a sip from my glass of wine. “I won’t have too much fun.  I told you I’m staying in tonight. What are you up to?”

“Doing a little work. I’m driving up next weekend. I have a thing in the city. I thought I’d stop by and see my girl. How does that sound to you?”

“Sounds great,” I say.

“I’ll cook dinner for you, unless you want to go out.”

Out with Jack. It’s always such a hassle going out with Jack. It’s not his fault. He doesn’t do anything. It pisses me off, and that makes me angry because it’s not his fault.

“You could make enchiladas and show me how,” I say. “I miss Maria’s cooking.”

“Then I’ll make enchiladas and show you how.” I can hear the smile in his voice.

“Good then, it’s settled,” I say.

“I’ll have Maria call you with a shopping list and, this time, no substitutions. If you can’t find it, ask.”

I roll my eyes and make a face at the phone.

“I’ve got to run, Chrissie. But I’m looking forward to seeing you next Saturday. It’s a one hour flight. You could come home once in a while.”

“I’m just trying to get settled into a routine here. I’ll be home all winter break.”

“Really? I expected you to have something going on over the break.”

“Nope. I’m spending it in Santa Barbara.”

A pause. There’s going to be a click soon.

Quickly, I say, “Daddy?”

“Yes?”

“I love you.”

Another pause. Short. “I love you too, baby girl.”

I stare at the receiver for a long time before I hang it up. I wasn’t the only one who came back from New York different. Jack came back different too.

I go to the kitchen for more wine. The phone rings again. Jeez, it’s like Grand Central Station tonight. I never get two calls in the same night. It’s probably just Rene, calling to tell me why she blew me off tonight.

I race to the couch, climbing over the back. I reach for the cordless phone and sink down on the seat.

“Hello,” I say into the receiver, trying to wipe the wine I spilled off of the seat cushion.

“Hey, Chrissie. What you doing tonight?” The voice is overly animated, overly chirrupy.

I frown. The voice is familiar, but I don’t know who the girl is.

“Just watching TV,” I answer carefully. “What’s up with you?”

“I’m sorry I didn’t call earlier. We were going to have coffee today, but things got crazy and I forgot.”

Oh, yeah. Teri from Lambert’s class. I’d forgotten I’d given her my phone number.

“It’s OK,” I say, and it really is OK. I don’t know if I want her to be the first friend I make at Berkeley. She’s sweet, but there’s something about her that is a little pushy and irritating. “You got plans for tonight?”

“That’s why I’m calling.”

She sounds excited.

“Yeah. What you got going on?” I ask.

I take a sip of my wine.

“We’re all going into the city to this club we know, down on the waterfront. Live music. Hot guys. You should come with us. Like, everyone is going to be at The Palms tonight.”

“Sounds fun,” I say, noncommittal. “What time are you guys heading out?”

“We’re all meeting in my dorm room at Sterns Hall around nine,” she says. “It’s a lot of fun. Come, Chrissie.”

“I don’t know. I’m waiting for my roommate. We’re supposed to do something, but if I can come, I’ll meet you at Sterns around nine.”

“Cool. See you at nine.”

I click off the phone and toss it on the coffee table.  I have no intention of going out tonight with my new, wannabe friend. The city. Teri. A club. Sounds too much all at once to cope with.

I slouch down, staring at the TV. Three hours later, I’m still on the couch, flicking through channels for about the twentieth time this evening. Rene is not home yet, and I’m starting to get pissed at her. She could have called. She can be so thoughtless sometimes.

I turn up the volume on the set. MTV. A music video. I love REM. I’m feeling uncomfortable from sitting so long. I lie on my side, stretching out of the couch. Maybe I’ll just go to sleep. My lids start to droop.

The video on TV changes, and so does the volume level. It amplifies all on its own. There is a voice in the room. Low. Raspy. Just enough raspy that it brings my senses alive. Alan. I jerk up, pushing the hair from my face. Fuck, that’s all I need tonight. How do you get over a guy when he’s everywhere? I can’t make it through a single day without seeing his face, hearing his voice somewhere.

I fight not to focus on the video and find myself doing exactly that. Why does he have to look so good? He’s singing a new song. He must be recording again. I haven’t heard it before. I hate it. It sounds angry. It’s angry, mean Alan. God, even angry, mean Alan is beautiful.

I take a large swallow of my wine. Why can’t I just forget Alan? I recall his burning, black stare and the intensity in the air just from being in a room with him. The way he looks in the morning, drowsy from sleep. The expression in his eyes after we have sex. How it feels to have those callused fingers brushing my skin with velvet care. The taste of him. The touch of him. The smell…