My Freshman Year: Day 95

walking dogsDays as a Freshman: 95

Mood: Stuffed

“So…” I clicked the old flashlight onto a brighter option and pulled my hat farther down onto my face. “How was Thanksgiving at your aunt’s?”

Even though I had secretly wished he had forgotten, Daniel B. had arrived at my house a few minutes after 7 on Thanksgiving night, a giant blue coat around his skinny frame and a round plate covered in tinfoil in his hands. I had prepared my parents and my two sets of aunts and uncles for his possible arrival, but as soon as I saw his twitching face behind our glass door, I knew all the preparation in the world couldn’t save this night from becoming extremely awkward.

After an hour of good-natured attempts at questions around our large wooden table, I had suggested Daniel B. and I take my old dog Spud out for a walk. My dad’s bushy white eyebrows went up at that suggestion, and I did my best to shoot him a “don’t get any stupid ideas” look.

Usually, you invite a guy to take a walk at night because you want to make things romantic. This invitation had nothing to do with romance, and everything to do with alleviating some of the unwieldy tension in the air.

Once we were outside, our boots crunching against a tiny layer of snow that had fallen on the quiet street, my body started to relax and I could breathe normally again. I mean, I loved my parents, but my mom and dad were both older, around 65, and often didn’t comprehend me as well as I wanted them to. I don’t think they understood that I had I invited Daniel B. over out of politeness. I think they actually thought I liked him. Read More »