A Question of Luck

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I met Tess my freshman year of college at the University of Colorado in Boulder. She was from Omaha and had skin and hair like Snow White and long nails painted a fiery red. I was from a tiny town in the woods of Vermont and wore Laura Ashley skirts and L.L.Bean moccasins. We met at the cereal station in the dining hall of our dorm, and even though she was a hair- sprayed Midwestern Catholic girl, or maybe because of those things, I was drawn to her, and we spent nearly every day together. We smoked Camel Lights on the steps of my dorm and talked about boys. We liked boys from the same fraternity and spent every weekend drinking from the keg at their giant fraternity house on the hill. We rollerbladed along the paths through campus and went skiing in Vail on the weekend. We sang at the top of our lungs to Sinead O’Connor and called ourselves “T’amy,” Tess and Amy.

When we returned to Boulder for our sophomore year, Tess and I shared a room in an apartment with two other girls, Kira and Liz. Tess and I shared clothes and food and money. We fell asleep each night side by side, and if I stretched from my bed, I could touch hers. But by the end of the year, I began to feel claustrophobic. We’d planned to stay at school for the summer. Tess talked about the great jobs we would find and how we’d drive to Vail every weekend in the car her stepdad promised if she made good grades. Tess was smart, so we both knew she would get the car, and we dreamed about the freedom we’d enjoy. I let Tess go on and on about how much fun we’d have, but I kept quiet. That same summer my mom would be getting remarried and then moving from Vermont to South Carolina. I was afraid that if I stayed in Boulder, my new stepfamily would go on without me. But I didn’t have the heart to leave Tess, so I let her think I’d stay for the summer. I liked knowing that she wanted me, and leaving my options open; Maybe I didn’t need to be a part of this new family after all.

But in the end, I went home. Tess was mad, mostly because I waited so long to tell her. I felt bad about leaving, but I knew she’d be fine without me.

“I’ll be back in August,” I said. We hugged and cried as I packed up my half of our room, and when she dropped me off at the airport in a borrowed car, I grabbed my bags from the trunk and waved. It was the last time I saw her.