Altruistic Genie
“Do a kindness unto another person for a pain of equal and opposite proportion unto yourself.”
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Part 6
Part 7
Part 8
Part 9: Prom Night
At the start of second semester, two things were on all of our minds: college decisions and prom. Until I got the email, it existed in a closed box and was both an acceptance and rejection. The uncertainty killed me, and until I got my first email, I kept myself constantly occupied with TV, movies, and video games.
Then I got the first email, from Boston College and I closed my eyes while I clicked the link, peeking ever so slightly because I believed on some level that a no took up more space than a yes and that only yeses could fit between the crack of my eyelid and my eye. Eventually the crack grew wide enough for nos to squeeze through, though. My first rejection opened the floodgates for a slew of them, and it seemed that the whole city of Boston and all the colleges within had placed me on some sort of no-fly list.
I wondered, if only I had smoked less and studied more, if only I had done it right the whole way through instead of just for college apps, I would be receiving only admission-affirming emails instead of only admission-denying emails. If only I had gone to more debate tournaments, had gone to all of them; if only I had practiced more. I was a state champion in my unleashed potential. But if I had done all that, all work and no play, I would have disappointed some part of my eighth grade self. If I had done all play and no work, I would have disappointed some other part.
Finally, I opened an email from NYU, and I was in! I practically flew out of my seat. However, after seeing the financial aid package, I knew I wouldn’t be able to attend. Dinner that night was silent with my mom, and dinner that weekend was silent with my dad.
Rejections hurt more because my friends were getting accepted. Jason would be studying business at USC the next year. Avery would study Spanish at Lewis and Clark. It wasn’t Claremont-McKenna, but he was happy with it. David Chang was getting perhaps as many rejections as me, denied to Wharton and the Ivy League. He did, however, get invited to interview for the Regent’s scholarship to Berkeley, which was a sure signal of admission. Nat had perhaps the best of both worlds. She got accepted to Dartmouth, but she wouldn’t be able to attend because they didn’t give her enough money like my situation with NYU, and she had been invited to interview for the Regent’s scholarship to UCLA.
My worries were for naught, however, because I got admitted to both ASU and CSU Long Beach on the same day. I was going to college! I still had hopes for somewhere better, but it was a knot untied in my stomach to know that no matter what else happened, I would at least be going to college somewhere.
My wish was granted on the UC decision day because I was admitted to UCLA. I pictured myself at a finance firm, speedily jumping through the ranks, powered by the rocket of an Economics degree from the University of California, Los Angeles. I committed as soon as I got in because it was the best school I got into or could hope to get into at this point. I had to hate Jason, but I was OK with that.
I called Nat, my finger still hot from the computer mouse click to commit.
“Berkeley?” I asked.
She just cried and cried and cried into the phone. I listened to her for what felt like five minutes, first mumbling an apology and something about if only there was affirmative action before trying to telepathically communicate a hug to her, visualizing my hand on her shoulder blade and her crying into my clavicle. Finally I asked if she wanted me to come over with ice cream.
“No sob. My parents don’t know we’re dating, so you can’t be doing boyfriend things.”
“I’ll bring more people so that it’s not a boyfriend thing, just a friend thing.”
“I don’t want a pity party.” She bawled.
“It’s not a pity party,” I lied. I picked up Jason and Avery, and we stopped to get Ben and Jerry’s. After a long flavor debate, we settled on Phish Food over Chunky Monkey.
As soon as we walked in, Nat saw the ice cream and said, “You should’ve gotten Chunky Monkey.”
“Come on man, how do you not know your---” Nat kneed Avery in the crotch just as her mom walked in, presumably to stop him from saying girlfriend. “---ooooph’s favorite ice cream flavor?”
“Shit, I’m sorry, I should’ve known.”
Her tear-red eyes lit up. “Thanks for coming. Seriously.” She saw me eyeing a new addition to her wall, a single piece of printer paper that read #UCLABound, so she said, “It’s not a bad school. Plus, it’s close to you!” Her mom seemed to stop setting the table for a second. “It’d be good to be at school with a friend.” She corrected herself.
Her mom joined in from across the room. “No. You’re going to Berkeley. They must’ve made a mistake.” The determined look on Nat’s mom’s face punched my gut. She suddenly lightened. “But thanks for coming to cheer her up. Let’s order a pizza in tonight.”
We had a pizza pity party with ice cream for dessert, and the entire meal I kept glancing up at the piece of paper. Nat’s spirits seemed to regenerate. The chocolate-marshmallow ice cream and pizza probably helped. Nat committed to UCLA a few days later.
☼☼☼☼☼ ຂຖຜຟຜຖຂສຫຂ ☼☼☼☼☼ ຂຖຜຟຜຖຂສຫຂ ☼☼☼☼☼
Being college-bound seniors changed a few of my friends’ behavior. Avery, usually spontaneous, added the Lewis and Clark visiting weekend to his calendar weeks in advance. He started looking at study abroad options even though he wouldn’t be able to do that for a year at the least. Jason, usually so social was still social, just with different people. He started messaging future classmates on Facebook, and he stayed in one Saturday night just to keep up with the USC admitted students Facebook group and his messages.
Nat and I stayed the same, perhaps becoming even more present-minded than usual. Where Jason and Avery went to their school’s visiting weekend, Nat and I didn’t visit UCLA. We stayed home. We knew we were going, and we had already been to LA, so why did we need to visit? Jason got innumerable phone numbers at the admitted students weekend, but Nat and I didn’t seem to be that interested in meeting or talking to people we could meet in a few months. We went to the beach. We explored the hills by my house. Avery flipped through his course catalogue constantly; mine hadn’t even been cracked open. Nat’s was, but I thought it had been her dad or sister. Why rush the future we already knew was ours when we could have fun in the moment and live in the present?
We didn’t even talk about college when we were alone, preferring instead to talk about what was in front of us, clouds in the sky for example.
“That one looks like a gopher.” Nat whispered, her head on my chest on the high school’s grass lawn.
“How do you know what a gopher looks like?” We let a good second or two of silence punctuate each thought. We weren’t in any hurry. “What does a gopher look like?”
“Like that cloud,” was all she offered in reply. She didn’t miss a beat.
☼☼☼☼☼ ຂຖຜຟຜຖຂສຫຂ ☼☼☼☼☼ ຂຖຜຟຜຖຂສຫຂ ☼☼☼☼☼
The guys at my school always seemed to compete for the best prom ask. I thought for sure I’d be in the running.
“That’s all for today, wildcats. And will Natalie Cougale go to prom with me?” She texted me right away.
You really had to do that in front of the whole school, didnt you :) Of course Ill go with you
You deserve the attention.
Sometimes I thought she only liked me for the attention. The class cheered for me when I walked in. I was booted from the announcements for the rest of the year, but I didn’t care.
The next several weeks were filled with planning the logistics of groups and pictures, none of which I fancied too hotly. I let Nat make the important executive decisions such as what group to go with and at whose house to take the pre-prom pictures. The one logistical component I took care of for us was renting a hotel room for prom night. Cliche as it sounds, I had been looking forward to the post-prom hotel room my whole life. I also rented myself a tuxedo to match her dress; both were gold.
The day of prom, I checked into the hotel room and left Nat a note on the bed that she’d find after the dance. It was decided that we’d join Jason, Avery, and David at Jason’s house for pictures. Jason ended up going with Maya, Avery with Polina, and David alone. There were a few other couples, but I didn’t know them too well.
Jason’s family had laid out delicious finger foods inside his house, and I spent a good portion of the picture-taking time inside at the table. There were scrumptious tiny pizza portions with melted feta cheese and green olives. Frankly, I didn’t care too much for pictures. I never knew what to do with my face.
As a result, I missed the cue to go outside when it was my turn. I was too busy with what was in front of me at the moment, the hors d’oeuvres. When I did finally think to go outside, I came just in time to see her taking a picture with David, clad in Berkeley blue.
“I figured one of the debate partners was as good as the other,” she shouted while posing with David.
“Well, can we take a picture, too?” I stuck my bottom lip out in a semi-joking pout.
“No time!” She said, finished posing and grabbing her purse.
“Yeah, traffic’s supposed to be a bitch,” Jason said. “We’ve gotta go now.”
I remembered we parked behind Jason so even if I wanted to stay and take a picture, getting to the dance late, we’d at least have to move Nat’s car so he could get out.
“Alright.” And we headed out. The dance was at a venue above a restaurant in downtown Campbell. Some of the other local schools were having prom on a boat or at the Giants stadium, but apparently our student government was locked into a ten-year long contract with this place. Years ago someone had made long-term goals quickly under false assumptions of who would compose the student body or what the student body would want when it came time to fulfill those goals.
I tried to enjoy myself and dance, but every time I stopped thinking about Nat’s picture with David, I started thinking about Nat’s picture with David. As if reading my mind, Nat said, “It was just a picture, come on. Dance with me. I mean really get into it.”
We danced and stopped for breaks to the candy bar and bathroom. In the hallway between the ballroom and the bathroom, Nat and I posed for a fighting picture with Jason, dressed in all red for USC. I did get a picture with Nat. And to think, a few hours prior, I didn’t even like pictures. We danced until they kicked us out, and then Nat drove us to the hotel, the Gateway Motel in San Jose. It had the cheapest rooms in the area.
“Are you sure you don’t want any alcohol?” I had asked her earlier if she wanted me to procure some. I would have asked to bring weed, but she didn’t smoke and it would be hard to hide the smell in a hotel room. She didn’t want any alcohol. She “wanted to remember tonight.”
She found the note I had left her right when we arrived at our room. “What’s this? Oh, hotel stationery. You shouldn’t have.” I couldn’t tell if she was joking or not.
She read aloud:
It’s prom night, and we have a hotel room WITH A JACUZZI. And there’s nobody else I’d rather be here with.
What would you have said sophomore year if you were told you’d be here tonight with the guy who asked you to Homecoming with a note written on a cafeteria napkin? You would’ve called the person who told you crazy. You would’ve said, “When pigs fly.”
Well, let’s have fun tonight and for godsake’s let’s use the hot tub. I’m looking forward to this summer and college because I know you’re gonna feature heavily in my life.
Love,
Adam
“Yeah, I would’ve said ‘’when pigs fly.’ Thanks. I love you.”
“I love you too.”
She put the note in her purse and said, “Darn! I wish I’d have known you were gonna do that. I almost laminated an index card with a capital ‘V’ and today’s date written on it to give you.”
“You should’ve!”
She tore off a sheet of hotel stationery and wrote the letter V, her name, and the date and gave it to me.
We kissed.
We did use the hot tub, and we didn’t sleep much. What little sleep I did get was invaded by blue dreams.
☼☼☼☼☼ ຂຖຜຟຜຖຂສຫຂ ☼☼☼☼☼ ຂຖຜຟຜຖຂສຫຂ ☼☼☼☼☼
The next day, Nat dropped me off at home in the mid-morning. While I was in the shower, I missed two calls from her and had three unread texts.
FML
My dad found your note in my purse
Now he won’t make eye contact with me and he wants your throat. Or balls
I didn’t know how to respond. I’m sorry I left you a cute note on hotel stationery? You should’ve hidden it better? Why is your dad going through your purse?
I went with the safe route. Shit, we’re both screwed. He most definitely knows what we did LN, hotel stationery…
Ya. IDK what to do
I don’t either. keep me posted
OK
Wait, did your parents really not know we’re dating? How did they not suspect?
They thought you were gay!! They thought I was a good catholic girl
Well. Not anymore.
:(
After not hearing anything for a few hours I asked -- How’s it going?
My mom went to bat for me. And you
Woo! go mama cougale!
Yeah. I think she was weirdly proud of me for it
That’s weird. Do you think we should still do something?
I think we should write them a letter. Explaining how we feel and all that. I was glad that she wanted to appeal to their emotions, that she wanted to appeal their unfounded rejection of me.
Sounds good boss
I’ll share you on a Google Doc
She emailed me a link, and I opened it to find an already-complete letter.
Hi Mom and Dad,
I know you guys aren’t my biggest fans right now and you’re probably very disappointed in me, but I’m disappointed in myself too. I wish I’d been more open with you about Adam and I. I am so sorry for lying. Thank you for your patience and your immediate concern for how safely we handled the situation. We knew that this was situation in which the risk outweighed the reward. We took every precaution possible, except for the pill. I didn’t want it getting back to you, since information spreads like wildfire in Los Gatos.
I wish you didn’t have to find out the way you did. In all honesty, Adam and I have been seeing each other for almost four months. I know you probably think that that’s not enough time for us to have been together to do what we did, but as Mom said I wasn’t going to be a virgin on my wedding day.
I’m going to college. There’s a lot of irresponsible things that happen in college, and I didn’t want to go into that environment unaware. I didn’t want my first time to be with someone who didn’t care about me. I know you read the note and probably thought “This boy is just trying to screw our daughter”, but there was no insincerity in Adam’s words. He has been an incredible support system who I know truly cares about me. He showed up at our door with ice cream after Cal. He came to my senior night and asked me to prom over the announcements. He has proven himself to me, and for that reason, we went to a hotel room Saturday night.
I might have lost my virginity, but I didn’t lose anything real. That phrase suggests that a person changes dramatically after they have sex for the first time, but I’m the same exact person. I didn’t lose anything Saturday night and I hope you don’t think that I’m not the girl who cried at Senior Night and teared up when she saw how beautiful her friends looked at Prom anymore because of this. I’m the same person with a much heavier responsibility.
Something I think we all need to come to terms with is that this is my body. I, within reason, have power over who touches it and what happens to it. Mom, thank you for taking me to Dr. Imig. Dad, thank you for acknowledging that I am a big girl, and that I need to act in a more mature manner now. I know that my attitude and habits have to change, but not because I had sex. The greater concern is being able to handle autonomy in college. I need to be able to do adult things, like handle my own schedule and take care of my body. Part of that is being responsible with regards to my sexual interactions.
Please don’t hate me and don’t hate Adam. This was an agreement. I was not pressured in any way shape or form. He was extremely conscious of my comfort. If you have any other questions or want to talk, please come to me. I’m so sorry for lying and thank you so much for not lashing out at me.
Sincerely,
Natalie
I made a few suggestions, but I don’t know if she took them because after leaving the comments, she kicked me off the Doc. Nat had to stay at home for the next couple of days or she chose to stay home, but I think the letter worked. The next time I picked Nat up, her dad looked me in the eye and gave me a handshake, albeit an extremely firm one.
If it hadn’t worked as well as it seemingly had, I probably would have wished her dad never found that note.