Priscilla Tonman VIII

Twilight

The following few days were interesting, but nothing dramatic happened. I got to know a lot more Cottage members, and had a great time getting to know some sophomores I had never met before. There was such a mixed variety of students that I was surprised to find out that sometimes, the only thing I had in common with the English major from Rhode Island was that we went to Princeton and that we were now part of Cottage together.

Meal times were very pleasant of course. The renowned reputation of good food was extremely well deserved. We had a guest chef from nearby Princeton area restaurant called “Elements”, who served us some house cured mackerel and Australian wagyu tataki while he chatted to us about fine dining. It was amazing how someone who spent all day in the kitchen got enough satisfaction from a simple smile of appreciation and thank you. I couldn’t thank him enough for the leg of lamb sandwich he put in front of me at lunch on Wednesday. It was incredible. Better than Mom’s home recipe, top secret roast chicken sandwich, but what she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her.

I begun hanging out at Cottage more often, and started bringing my homework there. It was easy to procrastinate there, but I was going through serious cases of FOMO (Fear Of Missing Out) when I was in my room by myself. Status updates on facebooks like “Cottage quote of the day: “Stop playing with my fruits!” or “Deliciousness smelled in kitchen: @Michelle Sanders, stop making us fat with your buttermilk pancakes.” were saddening when I didn’t get to see these situations play out. Tommy began to stop asking me out to dinner so often, but I continued to bother him. I refused to let him just end our friendship like that. It wasn’t as awkward as I thought it would be, but he tended to be quieter than usual.

The week was coming to an end, and I had dragged my feet back to my room to finish my latest math problem set for Professor Warren, and was in the middle of a multivariable calculus multiple choice (I hated multiple choice. Always got stuck between choice b) and d) and always ended up choosing the wrong one) when someone knocked on my door.




And just like that, the formula I was writing was lost.

I shrieked quietly in frustration. Interruptions like these were always unfair and annoying. I opened the door unwillingly, and saw Eric standing there in dark blue jeans and a black Hugo Boss sweater.

“Hey. Sorry, am I bothering you?” he asked, while glancing at my math books and random pieces of paper all over the desk. “Uh, guess I am. Sorry!” He had the audacity to look sheepish. “I, er, have a favor to ask of you, Priscilla.” He leaned on my door way, and looked down at his feet. Which were clad in black leather Cole Haans.

I looked at him carefully, the way Dr. Cal Lightman from Lie To Me would look at the criminals he was interrogating and profiling. He looked a little ashamed, but very determined. This look was usually not a good sign – I’ve learned that if people are willing to overlook shame for something else, it’s usually not because of a positive reason. “Oh really? What favor?” I answered cautiously. Another thing I’ve learnt from trying to be cool in junior high – never say yes too quickly.

“I have some uhm… some personal papers that I left in the Admissions office yesterday. They are in an envelope with my last name on it, and it’s in the Assistant Dean of Admissions office. I was getting some high school transcripts photocopied for a job I am applying to, and I forgot them on her desk when I went to talk to her to ask for them.” He paused, to let me process.

“Why do you need your high school transcripts?” I asked him incredulously. “Just give your employer your Princeton ones! From the Registrar?” What kind of employer wanted to know your high school grades?

“I know, I know. But I am applying to be a local high school Teaching Assistant, and they want to see my high school grades to make sure I didn’t flunk out of high school,” he said with a winning smile. His eyebrows looked furrowed a worried still. “So I was wondering if you could let me into her office and let me check where my transcripts are? You mentioned you were working at the Admissions Office?” He looked at me with a pair of puppy dog eyes. Yes, I am a woman. So yes, they were effective. So Eric was there during my interrogation at Firestone library. Curious. Very curious.

“Sure. I’ll look for you tomorrow morning when I go to my shift, and I’ll put it back,” I offered.

“No!” he abruptly said. “No! I need to put it back myself! Not that I don’t trust you, because I do,” he quickly corrected his statement. “But I don’t trust anyone else. Which is why I need to do it now. I need to put it back now.”

Now? Now was 6pm. The sky was darkening into a sinister twilight. Evening time was always my least favorite time of the day. The sun was setting and the moon wasn’t up yet, and all we were left with were streetlights still off and shadows following us. Not to mention, 6pm was time for me and Prof. Warren’s set problems to battle it out. I said this out loud to Eric. He pushed his hair back, and rubbed his temples. “Please, Pris. I wouldn’t ask you if I didn’t have to. I have sensitive information on there about…about my past. I…” he hesitated for three seconds.

Then he burst out, “I committed some petty crimes when I was high school, and I can’t let anyone see that.” He looked relieved to get it out.

Oh. Well, that was surprising. Eric looked like he always got what he wanted, whenever he wanted. He really didn’t look like a petty crimes kind of person. He obviously didn’t do drugs. Maybe he sold them? I don’t think he shop-lifted, judging from the number of branded clothing he owned. But then again, if Winona Ryder stole for fun, what stopped Eric?

This situation was all so weird, but I saw how upset he looked, and I couldn’t help but relent. I sighed loudly and deliberately. I turned back into my room, picked up my white Michael Kors coat, my iPhone and my keys. “I hope you know I’m doing this for you because I am awesome.”

He grinned, the twinkle that I loved seeing back in his beautiful eyes. “And here I thought you were doing it because I was awesome.”

I laughed. If only I had known in advance the next few hours were not going to be so awesome.