Our Final End-Of-Year Evaluations

One thing I like about Sierra, she knows when she’s done an oopsy. After last year’s…I don’t want to say debacle, but debacle, she decided to push back our last meeting. Something about checking the schedules and noticing none of us have finals in the eight AM slot today. I think she’s just covering her own butt, after all I’m pretty sure none of us had eight AM finals last year’s last day either. But, c’est la vie. All’s well and all that. So, rather than wake up before the crack of dawn, this year I get to wake up for my final day of classes at a reasonable, dawny hour.

Pulling on my clothes, I ask myself a question. Do I wanna say farewell to my archrival for the summer? I mean, it’s late enough and I’m functional enough that I don’t think such an adventure is really necessary, but at the same time, it’s still early and I’ve got the time. Right? I check my watch, which reads 7:22. Right, plenty of time. And, no finals to study for. Just a paper due by the end of daylight. I decide it’s worth it. Grabbing my tin, I head out of my room and down to the trail.

The rising sun does look pretty good walking through the Smoking Trail, causing long shadows of the trees to spread out over the path. If I were really an artist or something like that, I might be inspired, but I stay focused. I’ve got a joint to enjoy and see-you-later to get to. Besides, what am I supposed to do, be inspired to write at seven in the morning? Nah, I’d much rather just make it to my bench.

Settling down on the bench, I gaze over the pond. It’s really beautiful, the sun hitting the water at just the right angle to sparkle. Not going to help me much, but it’s pretty. Maybe I should head out here real early more often? I immediately suppress the thought. No, waking up early is bad. Makes me all tired and worn by the late afternoon, and not in a fun way. Pulling out my tin, I remove a joint. With a quick incantation and a flick of the wrist, a spark jumps from my forefinger to my thumb and back. I use it to light the joint, then open my hand and let the electricity dissipate. I take a deep inhale.

Looking out across the very bright pond, I try to find the duck. He’s nowhere to be seen, far as I can tell. But he’s always here, right? He can’t just not be here. This is our thing. We stare, he cheats, I lose. That’s what we do. “The duck are out in force on the Betty Hill today, I’m afraid,” a voice I know says from behind me. Strange, I don’t remember hearing anyone approach. Maybe I’m just too focused.

I turn to face Therese. “What makes you think I’m here to see a duck?” I ask indignantly. I know the answer’s probably because she’s as close to omniscient as a person can get while staying a person, but still.

She stares at me. “Because Lisette already left campus.”

“You don’t know me,” I say, knowing I’m wrong, “Maybe I’m just here to smoke a bit and relax.”

She ignores that. She does that sometimes. I don’t think it’s really ignoring, because she definitely pays attention and hears what you say at any given moment, like Amazon, or Santa Claus. It’s more like sometimes she doesn’t acknowledge when people say things. “Come on. I want us to pick up some donuts to celebrate our last end-of-year evals,” she says, instead of replying to me.

“Why do you need me?” I ask, genuinely this time.

She looks at me. “I don’t. But I don’t want you running late.”

I groan. “Fine,” I say, “But what about Ike?”

She lets out a single chortle, like I’d just told a real funny joke. Then, seeing I was serious, she made even less sense. “Isaac went out drinking last night. There is no chance he’ll be late.” From my experience, drinking a ton usually is one of the things that makes one late, but if her eminently wiseness says otherwise, who am I to question. Wiseness, otherwise, that’s a fun combination. I figure they come from two different wises - ooh, two different wisdoms - but nonetheless, fun side by side.

“Fine,” he replies, “But I’m not stopping ‘til we leave the woods.”

She looks, a hint of joking surprise rippling just beneath the surface of her blank expression. “Really? I’m surprised you intend to stop at all.”

“Ha ha,” I say sarcastically as I follow her out the woods to a car. Not her car, mind you. Therese doesn’t have a car. Well, doesn’t OWN a car. As this demonstrates, she HAS plenty of cars to choose from. I recognize it from one of our school’s lots, but can’t quite place it. It might be a friend’s. Or, knowing Therese’s skillset, it might well just be the first car she saw. She opened it up for me. “Thank you.”

Therese stops me from entering. “No, you get in after I roll all the windows down. I do not intend to hotbox with you.” She slides into the driver’s side and rolls down the windows.

I get in. “You can be so rude sometimes,” I joke.

“I know,” she says, “It’s part of my charm.” And with that she heads into town to the donut place. By the time we arrive at the shop, I’m pretty much finished with my joint for this morning and put the roach back in the tin with the others.

On our way back to campus post grabbing donuts, about six blocks away, I see Isaac sipping his coffee from in town. Because he went out last night. Right, I remember, he’s weird about his post drinking coffee. “Yo Ike,” I shout out the window, “You want a ride?”

“Depends who’s driving, Jase,” Ike replies.

I smile. “You don’t recognize our car?” I joke.

He rolls his eyes. “Tell Ter to pull over.” See, my friends aren’t dumb, just quirky.

Therese pulls over before I can get a word out. “If you tell me to pull over…” she says quietly.

“I know, you heard. No fun, I tell ya,” I joke.

Ike climbs in the back. “What brings you guys out here today?” he asks as we start to drive again.

“Therese wanted donuts to celebrate our final yearly evaluation. You?” I ask. Just in case the answer’s different than I think.

It isn’t. “I went out last night. You know how I get with coffee?” he half-jokes.

“You know, things like this make me wonder why we’re even friends,” I joke.

He shrugs at me. Therese decides to answer for us. “Because you lived next to one another and you started to sleep with one of his best friends.”

“Gah, don’t remind me,” Ike says, “I almost got the noises out of my head.”

I smile. “We’re only a couple rooms over now. Clearly, we’ve got to try harder.” I chuckle at my own half-complete joke. “Get it. Harder. Because, you know…”

“Yeah, we get it,” Therese replies.

Ike sighs and shakes his head. “How are you not single?”

“After Therese reminded you, I’m sure you remember exactly how,” I joke.

He shakes his head. “Nope. It’s been purged from memory. All gone, no need to talk about it.”

I laugh at that boldfaced lie as Therese slides the car into a space in the parking lot. She puts it in park and says, “Out,” in that sort of tone that says it isn’t exactly a request. We oblige, taking the donuts with us. The windows roll up behind us.

I turn to Ike. “Aren’t you glad Sierra relented, gave us a later meeting today?”

He shrugs. “I suppose. It seems more a product of our schedules than hers, though,” he says. I mean, I know he misses having Amanda as a mentor around, but that feels a bit harsh.

“Come on,” Therese says as she climbs out of the car, “Let’s head inside.” Walking through the library to the Library to our meeting room, we enter to see a gathering in progress. Irene, Ruth, and one of the kids. For some reason, my brain keeps telling me to call him Wolverine, but that’s probably not right. I feel like that’s more of a next generation of children kind of name. Well, I mean, his parents might have been 90s kids, if they were old 90s kids, and had him real young. More likely, in five years or so I’ll run into college kids named Wolverine. Assuming kids still come to college in five years. Well, no, I guess the Villae are sorta exempt from the inevitable decline of academia in the current world. You know, because magic reasons.

Therese interrupts my chain of thoughts. “Logan, you’re early. What brings you?” Logan. That’s why I thought wolverine. Duh.

“Just woke up and came here. Nothing really.”

Ruth pipes up. “What’s with the donuts?”

“They’re for after the evals. A celebration,” I say with a wide smile, “Because after these, we three role models don’t have to deal with them anymore.”

“Ugh,” Ike replies, “I really hope we aren’t role models.”

Irene smiles. “Don’t worry. You aren’t.”

Logan looks at her. “Was that a plural you or a singular you, because of the three of them, I think Isaac’s probably the best role model.”

“No,” Ike, me, Irene, and Ruth all say at the same time. Don’t know what Ruth’s got up her butt about Ike, but I know the rest of our reasons. For me, Ike has terrible time management skills, given how often he forgets about plans. Irene knows he’s not the easiest to work with, because he doesn’t exactly do his work at normal times or pacing. And Ike thinks he’s the worst, because he’s had to deal with him his whole life.

“Whatever you say,” Logan replies, “I’m sure you’re right in general, I’m just saying comparatively.”

I shrug. “In this room, I’d probably say the best role model’s Irene, except she hangs out with Therese, so she’s clearly got terrible judgment when it comes to people. So I’m gonna have to go with Ruth.”

“Aw, thanks,” Irene says, “Say, don’t you also hang out with Therese?”

“Exactly. That’s how I know.”

Sierra walks in, bag in hand. “So, why the donuts?”

“For you, dear leader,” I tell Sierra, “Because you finally realized seven in the morning is far too early to think critically about anything.”

Sierra sighed. “Anyone who isn’t Jason want to reply to the question?”

“They’re going to celebrate completing their last evaluation,” Irene answers.

Sierra nods. “Thanks. This is going to be a fun one to celebrate, then,” she begins, “but that can wait for the others.”

“Charles is in the stacks upstairs, likely waiting to not be early. Unless things have gone very poorly or extremely well, Valeria should be arriving soon,” Therese says in her best I’m-an-omniscient-monster-person-who-knows-all-your-secrets-so-try-your-best-to-hide-them-from-me-mwahahaha voice. She’s got that tone down pat, I got to admit.

“Logan, you should go grab Charlie,” Ike says.

The kid looks at Ike. “Why? It’s not like we’re really friends.”

Ike shrugs. “Neither are me and Ter. Trust me when I say, you want someone who has your back. You don’t need to be friends to stick together. Now go.” He gestures to the door. Logan rolls his eyes, but he does head out.

“By the way, Therese, sorry I missed our game yesterday,” Sierra says to Therese, which is weird. I mean, I know they hang out sometimes, but the power dynamic definitely don’t feel right for a mentor-mentee thing.

“It’s fine. You were, busy. Finals week. I understand.”

True to Therese’s predictions, Valeria walks in as soon as Therese’s last sentence finishes. “Hi everyone. Sierra, Therese, Irene, sorry I’m late.”

“Why do they get apologies?” I ask.

“Because we’re the scary ones, remember,” Irene replies.

Sierra looks at Therese and smiles knowingly. “Sure, that’s it,” she says, definitely implying something else. Stupid secrets, making me feel out of the loop.

Wonka and Wolverine, no wait, that’s the memory thing, not their actual names. What was it? Right, Carlie and Logan come back in together. Logan asks, “So what’s so special about today?”

“Today isn’t just normal evaluations. We’ve got everyone’s favorite Self-Evaluations, too.” Thank god for the donuts. I’mma need them.