I’d made the Dean’s list. I was Gandalf at the costume ball. My fiction won applause at open mic night. My music won applause at the talent show. All the girls said they’d miss me.
I celebrated my homecoming by securing the worst job of my life, worse than my brief attempt in the military, worse than my year as Detention officer, worse than using cat litter to soak up liquid detergent.
I knew none of that. I had my first apartment, my first pager. My first private bathroom. From now on, my tuition was paid; no more loans. It would take me longer to finish school, but I was in no hurry. Life was good.
And I had determined never to date another woman for as long as I lived.