In January, I return to UMass and start my second semester. I’m a little smarter about classes this term, and manage to get into a good Russian Lit course.
As the semester proceeds, I get a second chance to hang out with Smith people, since one of Gina’s friends is an associate professor there and we end up at several Smith cocktail parties.
Best of all, I also take a highly recommended comparative religion class at Mount Holyoke, which is the exact scenario I wanted so badly: a small class of prissy, smart girls in pink sweaters, all worshipping at the feet of a pompous professor blathering on about himself. Why did I think this would make me happy? I do not know. It is sort of funny, though. And it gives me something to joke with Gina about.
When summer comes, Gina insists I come live with her and some other grad student friends in an old house in Northampton. I ask my parents and they are of course skeptical and worried, but I remind them: I am now nineteen. I have not been in trouble for three years. I don’t drink. I get good grades. I am basically a reasonable, responsible person.
They finally agree to it, and when school lets out, I move in with Gina. This turns out to be a fantastic summer. I work part-time at Village Books and spend the other time hanging out with Gina, going to parties and concerts and drinking iced teas in the humid summer nights.
My parents still want to see me, so I go home for a week at the end of August. No one’s around, though, so I don’t really see anyone. I call Simon and we go on a long hike one day. Otherwise I lay low.