Timeline: Eighteen

(To catch up: One Through Six, Seven And Eight, Nine, Ten, Eleven, Twelve And Thirteen, Fourteen And Fifteen, Sixteen and Seventeen.)

2000, aged eighteen
After a ridiculously fun surprise party for my eighteenth birthday, I head back to school to finish the last semester of high school. I walk into my Government class on the first day of second semester, and Natalie is there. It's the first class we have together since freshman year. For the rest of the semester I'll steal glances at her binder, which is covered in pictures of her and her then-boyfriend. We make eye contact every once in a while.

On March 30, 2000, I get a rejection letter from Texas A&M. I've been wait-listed, but chances aren't good for late admission as this year they received more applications than ever before. My chances are slim. The letter makes this clear.

I finish out my senior year with great friends, wonderful memories and a trip to Disney World to dance in a parade at one of the parks there.

Sometime, near the end of the semester, Natalie and I speak to each other for the first time since we were both 16. I don't remember what about, I don't remember who initiated the conversation, but, regardless, I muster the courage to ask her to sign my yearbook the last week of class. And she does. She wrote: I really have missed you, but I'm terribly proud of the battles that you have won in high school. I'm sorry for what has happened, but, hopefully, when we remember each other it will be positive. I re-read it nearly a thousand times over the next few months.

In late May, my dad, sister and other family and friends fly into town. I put on a black dress, a little extra makeup and I graduate from high school. It's incredibly bittersweet, as I walk across the stage 49th in my graduating class of 480. The top ten-percent of all graduating high school seniors in the state of Texas receive automatic admission to the state school of their choice. Texas A&M—a state school—is my choice. I cross the stage in the top 10.2 percent of my graduating class.

My mom and I fight a lot this summer, and it's because I'm going slightly crazy. Leaving high school is traumatic and terrifying, and I feel I'm leaving all the good behind me. We're in the middle of a particularly nasty, silence-filled fight when I check the mail one day to find a thick envelope from Texas A&M. I've been taken off the waiting list. I've been accepted. I call my mom, screaming and happily crying and laughing, too. The fight is over, and this is just how my mom is: the quickest to congratulate, the quickest to forgive, the only person in my life who is never anything but proud of me, no matter what I've done to her. We celebrate that night, and, finally, my future begins falling into place.

Before I leave for College Station, I write Natalie a letter. I say a lot of things in it, I imagine, but all I remember saying is this: I miss you. Because I really, really do. She is going to A&M, too. We both decided on the same school unbeknownst to one another. Regardless of who's going though—and I have a handful of other friends moving there, as well—I stand on my front lawn the night before I am set to leave, and I break down. I've changed my mind. I don't want to go. I think I'll just stay right here, instead, thank you very much. Two friends talk me off the metaphorical ledge, and I wake up insanely early the next day—my hands shaking from the word go—and drive into College Station, Texas, a town where more than two-thirds of the residents are students at the university. I try and take everything in, try to envision eating at restaurants we're passing, shopping at little stores dotted along the main drag in town. But I just can't believe this is my home now. It feels so foreign, so unfamiliar to me. I wouldn't have believed a single person if they had told me that in five years, almost to the day, I would cry hysterically—feeling my heart shatter in my chest—as I drive out of that town, desperate to stay for one more day, one more hour even.

I start my first semester of  college—I take Zoology, Sociology, Political Science and History—I join a sorority, I make new friends on my co-ed floor, I begin drinking a little (fine, a lot), I go to football games, I actually date—for what feels like five minutes—someone I had a huge crush on in high school and he takes me to my first Midnight Yell. One sort of crazy, messy night after that boy broke up with me, I walk next door to a local tattoo parlor and get a daisy tattooed on my lower back. I don't hate it, when I catch a glimpse of it now, although it's been almost eight years and I was absolutely certain I'd come to regret it by now. But, actually, it reminds me of that girl from way back when, a girl I think I'd kind of love if I met now—dramatic, deep, scared, fun, insane, desperate, hopeful. She was also ballsy, even though she didn't know it, and these days, when I get out of the shower and see that flower on my back, I always smile and think of her. Even though it's faded and not really my style, it reminds me that I was 18 once. And I wasn't half bad.

In between getting my heart smashed by that boy and drinking far too many Keystone Lights and awkwardly hanging around a sorority house I didn't feel a part of yet and studying far less than I should have (first college test score: 52) and also just plain falling in love with every corner of that town, I spend a lot of time in my room, browsing the Internet, illegally downloading music and chatting with friends on Instant Messenger. One afternoon I get a call from the front lobby of my dorm. It's Natalie. She has stopped by for a visit. I can't tell you—there really aren't words—how good it is to see her. It has been far too long.

Comments

[Someone Being Me]

It all sounds so familiar. The packing up and driving down to College Station. The tattoo on the lower back. The midnight yells. Too many beers and not enough studying. I know we could have been friends. I wish I had known you then.

[Rhi]

Keystone Light! Those were the days, weren't they? :)

[slynnro]

This is all interesting, but at this point, really, I'm looking at this timeline business as "Natalie and Jennie: The Novel."

[slynnro]

I mean that as a compliment btw.

[Sarah]

yay for the reconciliation with Natalie-I've been waiting for this!

[Jess]

Nooo. 49 out of 480 is the first person to miss the top ten percent, and that is just cruel. I'm so glad you got into your school of choice anyway!

[Rachel]

Sounds like a great time in your life, and I can definitely remember what it felt like to be 18. While there were definitely some lessons learned and great memories from 18 and my freshman year in college...I definitely don't want to go back there. :)

[Kristie]

I'm amazed at your memory!

[Nicole]

I agree with Kristie above, you have an incredible memory for detail. This makes for an incredible storyteller.

[Miss]

I just caught up and read all these and so far? Pretty incredible. You write these things so well, its triggering my own memories that I couldn't remember.