The Beginning of Everything by Robyn Schneider Page B

walked out of a classroom with my mind racing because of what I’d learned, and I wanted to savor the feeling as long as possible. It was as though my brain was suddenly capable of considering the world with far more complexity, as though there was so much more to see and do and learn. For the first time, I was thinking that college might not be like high school, that the classes might actually be worth something, and then Cassidy started laughing.
    â€œWhat?” I asked, a bit annoyed that she’d interrupted my private Zen moment.
    â€œNo one likes organic chemistry. It’s, like, the worst requirement there is for pre-med.”
    â€œWell, maybe I liked it because I’m not going to be pre-med.”
    â€œNo, you’re planning to be a field hand.” Cassidy rolled her eyes.
    â€œObviously. I’ll operate on a seasonal schedule. I’ll call it Spring Gleaning.”
    Cassidy whacked me with her notebook.
    After an unexciting philosophy lecture on something called consequentialism, we walked back to the Town Center. It was around noon, and the weather had turned scorching. The sky, which was a brilliant blue directly overhead, lightened to white gray as it stretched over the mountains.
    I took off my button-down, which I’d worn over a T-shirt in case it was a date.
    Cassidy glanced over as I stuffed the collared shirt into my backpack.
    â€œWhat happened to your wrist?” she asked.
    â€œNothing, it’s just a brace,” I said, not wanting to get into it.
    â€œSo it’s some kind of jock fashion statement?” Cassidy teased. She pushed her sunglasses up into her hair, suddenly becoming serious. “Is that why you always wear long sleeves?”
    â€œNo,” I said, mocking her. “I always wear long sleeves because it’s some kind of jock fashion statement.”
    She stuck out her tongue, which made her look like a little kid.
    â€œVery mature,” I said. “I thought we were pretending to be college students.”
    â€œNot anymore. Class is dismissed. Now it’s lunchtime.”
    We got sandwiches at Lee’s, one of those chains you grow up thinking must be everywhere, but in reality exists only in California.
    At Cassidy’s insistence, we took our sandwiches across the street to this little slope of rocks and grass that ran alongside the man-made creek and had our picnic in the shade of an oak tree. On the trail above us, bicyclists whizzed by on their narrow path, and across the water, I could see another couple spreading out their picnic. Not that Cassidy and I were a couple.
    I turned up the speakers on my phone and put on an old Crystal Castles album while Cassidy rooted through the grass, picking tiny white flowers and knotting them together into a crown.
    â€œHere,” she said, leaning in to place the circlet on my head.
    Her face was inches from mine. I could see the freckles that dusted her nose and the gold flecks in the disquieting blue of her eyes.
    When she pulled away to study what I looked like with the crown of flowers in my hair, I had the brief impression that she knew how much she confused me and was enjoying it.
    â€œWhen can I take this off?” I asked.
    â€œWhen you tell me where you’re applying to college,” she said mischievously.
    I shrugged. That question was easy.
    â€œProbably here, maybe some other state schools.”
    I could tell instantly that I’d said the wrong thing.
    â€œSo that’s it?” Cassidy asked. “You’re fine with spending your whole life in the same twenty square miles?”
    Wordlessly, I took off the crown and examined it.
    â€œWell, it isn’t as though I’m going to be recruited anywhere.”
    â€œOh.” Cassidy’s cheeks reddened, and she fiddled with her napkin for a moment. “Sorry. I hadn’t realized.”
    â€œNo, it’s fine. One state school’s as good as the next. I wasn’t exactly