Hogwarts University.
I spent most of my four years of Harvard being mildly embarrassed to be going there. I always thought of myself as a questionable admission and was never quite sure what they saw in a frizzy-haired Jersey girl. When people asked me where I went to college, I’d usually mumble, “In Boston.” Of course, nobody would leave it at that. They’d always have to know where and I’d be forced to admit my embarrassing secret.
Now, ten years after graduation, it’s even worse. I see Luke, who’s accomplished so much with his life, and then compare him to myself. I’ve accomplished so little. That gives me yet another reason for being embarrassed to have gone to Harvard. I was given such a fantastic opportunity and what did I do with it? I became a computer programmer. I could have gone to Rutgers and been a computer programmer. So in that sense, returning to this campus kind of leaves me with a sense of failure.
“Hey, it’s the John Harvard statue,” Luke says, pointing out the statue I’d passed literally thousands of times during my four years of college.
“I know that,” I say. “What are you, the tour guide?”
Luke grins. “You remember the three lies?”
“Of course,” I say. “One, John Harvard didn’t found Harvard. Two, the date is off by two years. Three, that’s not even John Harvard.” I make a face. “I still remember it from the tour I went on before applying. Did you know it’s good luck to rub his left foot?”
“Really? I thought it was good luck to pee on him.”
“Oh God,” I say. “You didn’t.”
“Of course I did,” he says. “I assumed everyone did. Like having sex in the Widener Library stacks.”
“I never did that.”
“Yeah, well, you missed out.”
The Widener stacks are a desolate area of the library filled with the dustiest and oldest books on campus. It was also a place that young undergrads frequently went to exchange bodily fluids. I look at Luke and imagine him pushing one of his blonde bombshells into the dusty old bookcases and pressing his lips onto hers. And then for one crazy moment, I imagine him in his chair between rows of books, me in his lap and kissing him.
Luke winks and says, “Forget it. I don’t think I’d fit anymore.”
He’s joking, I’m sure. He doesn’t really know what I’m thinking about. Not this time.
The lecture is in Emerson Hall. It’s a humanities building that I may have set foot in less than half a dozen times during my brief tenure at Harvard. The science buildings are at the other end of the Yard, and those are where I spent most of my time. Luke seems very familiar with the layout of Emerson, though. When I ask him, he admits that this isn’t the first lecture he’s given here. “Wow,” I say, “you must be a great speaker.”
He shrugs. “I’m fair.”
The lecture is scheduled to start in a few minutes and the large auditorium is already more than half full. I am shocked that so many people showed up to see Luke speak. He must be more well-known than I realized. Or maybe all these Harvard kids just want to be rich like he is.
An important-looking man in a dark suit is on the stage and greets us as we come in. “Luke,” he calls out. “Thanks for doing this. Everyone is really excited.”
“No problem, Ed,” he says. He eyes the stage, which is elevated several feet from the ground. There are four steps to get on top of it. “You got the ramp, right?”
Ed grimaces. “Luke, I’m sorry. Those idiots never ordered it.”
“Goddamn it, Ed,” he sighs.
“I’m really sorry,” Ed says again. “I’ll help you.”
I watch as Luke backs up to the bottom step and the other man pulls him up the stairs from behind. Luke’s legs bounce on each step and he puts his hands on them to keep them from falling out of place. Several students are staring, which makes me aware that I kind of am, too. Luke takes it mostly in stride, though.
They set up a microphone that’s lowered
I spent most of my four years of Harvard being mildly embarrassed to be going there. I always thought of myself as a questionable admission and was never quite sure what they saw in a frizzy-haired Jersey girl. When people asked me where I went to college, I’d usually mumble, “In Boston.” Of course, nobody would leave it at that. They’d always have to know where and I’d be forced to admit my embarrassing secret.
Now, ten years after graduation, it’s even worse. I see Luke, who’s accomplished so much with his life, and then compare him to myself. I’ve accomplished so little. That gives me yet another reason for being embarrassed to have gone to Harvard. I was given such a fantastic opportunity and what did I do with it? I became a computer programmer. I could have gone to Rutgers and been a computer programmer. So in that sense, returning to this campus kind of leaves me with a sense of failure.
“Hey, it’s the John Harvard statue,” Luke says, pointing out the statue I’d passed literally thousands of times during my four years of college.
“I know that,” I say. “What are you, the tour guide?”
Luke grins. “You remember the three lies?”
“Of course,” I say. “One, John Harvard didn’t found Harvard. Two, the date is off by two years. Three, that’s not even John Harvard.” I make a face. “I still remember it from the tour I went on before applying. Did you know it’s good luck to rub his left foot?”
“Really? I thought it was good luck to pee on him.”
“Oh God,” I say. “You didn’t.”
“Of course I did,” he says. “I assumed everyone did. Like having sex in the Widener Library stacks.”
“I never did that.”
“Yeah, well, you missed out.”
The Widener stacks are a desolate area of the library filled with the dustiest and oldest books on campus. It was also a place that young undergrads frequently went to exchange bodily fluids. I look at Luke and imagine him pushing one of his blonde bombshells into the dusty old bookcases and pressing his lips onto hers. And then for one crazy moment, I imagine him in his chair between rows of books, me in his lap and kissing him.
Luke winks and says, “Forget it. I don’t think I’d fit anymore.”
He’s joking, I’m sure. He doesn’t really know what I’m thinking about. Not this time.
The lecture is in Emerson Hall. It’s a humanities building that I may have set foot in less than half a dozen times during my brief tenure at Harvard. The science buildings are at the other end of the Yard, and those are where I spent most of my time. Luke seems very familiar with the layout of Emerson, though. When I ask him, he admits that this isn’t the first lecture he’s given here. “Wow,” I say, “you must be a great speaker.”
He shrugs. “I’m fair.”
The lecture is scheduled to start in a few minutes and the large auditorium is already more than half full. I am shocked that so many people showed up to see Luke speak. He must be more well-known than I realized. Or maybe all these Harvard kids just want to be rich like he is.
An important-looking man in a dark suit is on the stage and greets us as we come in. “Luke,” he calls out. “Thanks for doing this. Everyone is really excited.”
“No problem, Ed,” he says. He eyes the stage, which is elevated several feet from the ground. There are four steps to get on top of it. “You got the ramp, right?”
Ed grimaces. “Luke, I’m sorry. Those idiots never ordered it.”
“Goddamn it, Ed,” he sighs.
“I’m really sorry,” Ed says again. “I’ll help you.”
I watch as Luke backs up to the bottom step and the other man pulls him up the stairs from behind. Luke’s legs bounce on each step and he puts his hands on them to keep them from falling out of place. Several students are staring, which makes me aware that I kind of am, too. Luke takes it mostly in stride, though.
They set up a microphone that’s lowered
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