The following week Jon drove me in his Jeep to the airport. My mother had been called to Hartford to meet with the D.A. about the Hereford case, so we’d said our farewells that morning. I have to say, I was actually kind of glad she wasn’t going to be there to see me off. It gave me more time to be alone with Jon.
Over the past few days we’d been seeing a lot of each other. After classes at Hereford he would drive to my house and I would show him around our prosaic little town. He’d been going to Hereford since the seventh grade and he’d never even been to Häagen-Dazs. I guess all of us townies had always given off a serious anti-Hereford vibe.
Jon carried my backpack all the way to the gate where I was, as always, already late for boarding. As we approached the desk, Jon reached out and squeezed my hand, which only compounded my misery. I handed the check-in attendant my boarding pass and turned to Jon. He was wearing a green shirt that enhanced the color of his eyes and made him even more gorgeous. I couldn’t believe how hollow my heart felt, just looking at him. We’d only known each other for a few weeks, but I didn’t want to say goodbye.
“Well, this is it,” I said. “I guess I’ll see you after finals.”
May felt like it was eons away.
Jon smiled slowly. “Maybe a little sooner,” he said. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded piece of heavy-stock paper. I took it from his outstretched hand and opened it. It was expensive letterhead with the Stanford seal.
“‘Dear Mr. Wisnewski: We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted into the Stanford University class of’—Jon! You’re going to Stanford?” I practically screeched, causing the check-in attendant to jump.
Jon tilted his head and shrugged. “Maybe. I haven’t actually seen the campus yet, and I don’t want to make a rash decision . . . .”
“Omigod! But you’ll love it! It’s so beautiful.” I gushed. I was already entertaining fanciful daydreams of the two of us next year, walking to class together, eating dinner in the dining hall. My little freshman boyfriend!
“Well, hypothetically, if I were going to . . . say . . . fly out there in February, would you know of any place I could crash?” he said, his eyes dancing.
Finally his point sunk in. I took a step closer to him, folded his letter and stuck it back in his pocket. “I’ll give you a world-class tour, by the culmination of which you’ll never feel the need to look at another school,” I said.
“Sounds kinky,” Jon said, wrapping his arms around me.
I laughed, stood on my tiptoes and planted a nice, long kiss on his lips. I’d been dreading this all day, certain that it would be our last. But now, it was perfectly sublime.
I knew it was going to be the first of many.
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