Chapter 18: August 1986 to March 1987

The rude county clerk scoffs when I decline to change my name. "This generation," she mumbles as she returns the form to the file. "Well, then, I guess you're finished." She plasters a smile that I fight the urge to slap. "Congratulations on your nuptials."

Colin holds the door for me as we walk back to his dad's car.

"You understand right?" I ask, glancing at him.

"I do."

"It's nothing personal."

"I know."

"It's just… if my dad ever attempts to find me…" I shrug.

He kisses my cheek. "You don't need to explain anything to me. Plus, that woman is probably always grumpy… or a bigot. Forget about it."

***

Conversely, the lack of additional paperwork thrills the student registrar, and student housing quickly hands over our keys.

We spend the week before classes decorating our new one-bedroom suite, which includes its own bathroom, kitchen, and living area.

Colin wraps a comforting arm around my shoulders. "It's like our own little house."

"Colin, it's 490 feet. There are studio apartments bigger than this."

He chuckles. "As long as we’re together, I don’t care about the size of the space.”

We hear giggling and something slam against our door. Colin tentatively turns the knob, and we’re confronted by a tawny, ripped leather couch.

"Sorry," a giggling woman apologizes. I watch the woman attempt, and fail, to navigate the couch through the next doorway.

Colin clears his throat. "Not to undercut female empowerment or anything, but would you like some help?"

We hear a male voice from inside the next suite. "Please, man!"

Colin takes the end of the couch from the woman and slowly maneuvers it through the doorway. "I'm going to turn to the left. Just back it in slowly… Okay, straighten it out. Turn to the right." I watch him disappear into the room. "There we go."

Shaking hands, the men emerge from the suite.

"Thanks, man." The man’s hair is tightly coiled against his scalp, and although he isn’t quite as tall as Colin, his wide shoulders make Colin’s athletic frame look thin. "I'm Derek. This is Shannon."

The woman sticks out her perfectly manicured nails, and I shake her hand.

Colin smiles. "Colin and Ra'Shelle."

"Isn't being married just the best?" Shannon squeals in a pitch that makes Joan sound mellow and collected. "When was your wedding?"

"Last month."

"Ours was in May, the day after graduation. I just couldn't wait!"

I cock my head. "You're freshmen?"

"Yep. You?"

"Sophomores."

Shannon claps quickly and jumps just enough for the beads in her short braids to click together. "Then you know all the cool places around here!"

I half-smile; there is no way I can match this woman’s energy. "I don't know. We spent most of last year in the library, but you might check out the flyers in the Student Union."

"After we bring up the rest of the stuff," Derek directs at Shannon. He looks at Colin. "The rest is just boxes, but thanks for the assist, man."

"No problem,” Colin says. “We're right next door if you need anything."

Shannon hugs me, and all my muscles clench. "Next door besties!"

Derek rolls his eyes. "Geez. Sorry, Ra'Shelle. C'mon, Shannon. Burning daylight."

"See you around!" Shannon giggles as she locks arms with Derek and strolls away.

We return to our room, and I shiver. "What is it with this country and hugging? Blech!"

"Right out of high school,” Colin says. “How long do you think that'll last?"

I roll my eyes. "Through the semester?"

He chuckles and sits on the edge of the bed. "Well, the place is finally set up. Now what?"

"I have an idea," I say with a mischievous grin as I playfully push him back.

He stares at me lovingly and gently pulls me down. "Yeah? Ice cream?"

"Maybe after."

***

Derek and Shannon’s lovemaking–neither gentle nor sweet–resonates through the dorm walls, and one night after the festivities, I roll over to ask, "Do you want sex like that?"

Colin rolls his eyes. “I love that you can still amuse me with your funny jokes.”

I grin. “I could scream ‘Hell yeah!’ at the end of every session. Give you an ego boost, maybe?”

His lips rest against my ear. “I like it better when you moan my name.”

“Oh, Colin,” I jab.

He kisses me fiercely. “Just like that.”

I guffaw and roll on top of him.

***

The fall semester passes quickly. Once again, we spend most of our time at the library or sketching next to one another in bed. Yet, the nightmares still wake me, and occasionally flashbacks make me cry in the middle of sex. Colin reassures me that new experiences reveal new triggers, but that I’m still healing.

I’ve started telling him about the stories Joan recounted at the wedding and other embarrassing moments. For every story of horror and torture, I tell at least three that make him laugh.

After finals, Colin brings home a bouquet of flowers in a newly finished ceramic vase. "What do you think?"

I grin. "Beautiful flowers."

He rolls his eyes. "C'mon, Ra'Shelle."

I kiss him and speak against his lips. "I think you're a brilliant artist, and that's a gorgeous vase.”

***

We spend winter break with Colin's father, who loves hearing all about the past semester and bragging on us for our outstanding grades. We fill the break with sketching, painting, relaxing, and sleeping.

When we return to the dorm, Shannon is unlocking her door. She’s significantly mellower, and the squeal is gone. "Hey, Ra'Shelle."

"Hey," I answer, as Colin gestures and disappears into the suite to set down the luggage. I look at my neighbor: frayed braids, chipped polish, loose clothes, and no makeup.

"How was break?" I ask.

Shannon smiles slightly. "Good. College is so time-consuming. Derek spends twenty to thirty hours every week at football practice, plus we did all sorts of activities and passed all of our classes. It was nice to just sleep, you know?"

"I do."

"How are you and Colin?"

Anytime I'm asked this question, I can't help but smile. "We're good. We have a couple of overlapping classes, but mostly we're just enjoying the independence during the day and being together at night, you know?"

Shannon nods and opens her door. "Well, it was good to see you. Maybe we'll see each other around."

"Sure." I walk into my suite and close the door. "I just had the weirdest conversation. Since when do Shannon and Derek care about how you and I are doing?"

"Maybe she's just trying to be more neighborly."

"No, something’s up."

***

We’re leaving our Drawing III class two weeks after midterms when Professor Truman calls after me. "Ra'Shelle, can you stay behind, please?"

Colin gestures toward the door. "I'll wait outside."

I bite my lip as I approach the desk. "Yes, sir?"

"Ra’Shelle, I've watched you grow as an artist over the last twenty months, and you were pretty talented to begin with."

"Thank you, sir."

He leans against the edge of the metal table, watching me nervously hug my sketch pad against my torso. "Your drawings tend to focus on people."

"Yes, sir. I like playing with different perspectives and emotions."

"And clothes."

I smile slightly. "Well, they have to wear something."

"No, they don't,” he says, “not like this. The designs that you've created with pencil and all the different mediums, Ra'Shelle… they're original."

Blood rushes to my face. "Thank you, sir."

"Do you know who Tom Ledger is?"

“No, sir.”

"Have you ever heard of Ledger Fashion Industries?"

"It sounds vaguely familiar, but I couldn't pick their clothes out of a pile."

He chuckles. "Well, Tom was a student of mine the first year I taught, and Edward,” he clears his throat, “my late partner, taught with his wife. Tom's done very well for himself and started his own fashion company: Ledger Fashion Industries, or LFI for short."

I’m unsure if I should address the subtle revelation, so I simply nod. "Okay."

"I hope you don't mind, but I showed him some of your pieces, including the bridal photo you sketched for your final in Fundamentals, the one of the mother, daughter, and grandmother, and the one with the woman standing in front of the mirror."

Those are some of my better pieces, and my stomach lurches like I’m riding a roller coaster. "I don't mind."

"He’d like to meet you to discuss an internship in their creative design department."

"I’m sorry?" I ask, dumbfounded.

"Assuming the interview goes well, you would work at LFI ten hours per week during the fall semester and receive three hours of college credit. Your advisor would make the arrangements. Knowing Tom, he'd probably keep you for another ten hours in the spring, depending, of course, on your performance."

"I–I don't know what to say."

He hands me a business card. "Call him. Set up an interview. There's no commitment. Just see what you think."

I stare at the debossed paper. "Um, yes, sir. Thank you."

"Don't tell your husband, or any other student, but you're the best drawing student I have right now."

I click my tongue. "Colin already knows that."

He laughs. "Well, he's good too. Excellent, as a matter of fact, but your attention to detail surpasses what I would expect in someone your age."

He throws papers into his briefcase before closing it. "Actually, you remind me a lot of him."

"Colin?"

He shakes his head as he picks up his briefcase. "Tom."

When we step into the hall, I wrap my fingers around Colin’s elbow. “How would you feel about me working in fashion?"

He grins. "As if you even have to ask."