***
Later that afternoon, I walked into an apartment that smelled faintly of cookies. Sure enough, on the kitchen table were a plate of freshly baked choc chip beauties, with a note from my friend the chemist (and baker), ‘Thought these might cheer you up!’
In and of themselves, they didn’t. But the thought; the fact she cared, most certainly did.
Life though, was intent on shitting on me from a great height. No PhD, no internship for the summer, no boyfriend (that one mattered far less, but I’d be lying if I said it didn’t still irritate me), and no clear plan for the future.
Wondering if I could stomach twelve months of full time work at the restaurant, I started to think that I should just give up on the grad school idea altogether. Perhaps moving back to Seattle, and getting a job there, would be the best option. God knows, I still could not afford to complete my PhD without working my buns off while studying. Maybe it simply wasn’t worth it.
“You’re twenty-three,” I reminded myself, kicking off my shoes and shuffling to my own room. “Time to start acting like a grown up.” Truthfully, I didn’t quite know what that meant, but it seemed to imply a ‘proper’, stable job and a mortgage.
Sulkily throwing myself into the chair in front of my desk, I turned on my computer through habit more than anything else. Without giving much thought to what I was doing, I logged into my college email, and found the official announcement that I was being dropped from the internship. Glancing at the time, I noted it was sent just ten minutes earlier.
Scrolling down, there were the usual mass campus mails: a list of local bands performing at the student bar; the performance artists who would be at the theatre for a couple of afternoons next month; and the senior students trying to sell second-hand textbooks to the juniors.
But then, something else caught my eye. ‘Newcastle University, New South Wales.’ Bewildered, I shook my hand as I took hold of the mouse and drew the cursor up to the subject line. ‘PhD proposal.’
My confusion not lifting, I opened the email and my jaw dropped as I read the email. ‘Ms. Solano, thank you for your interest in studying at Newcastle University. We’re very happy to inform you that your research proposal on the early Roman Empire has been accepted.’
The fact that I’d applied in the first place had completely slipped my mind. It wasn’t something I’d wanted to do even. I was hounded by some guy at one of those seminars, and to get him to go away, I’d given him my name and email address. A few days later, I’d received the application from, which I half-heartedly filled out and I’d just attached the same proposal I was sending to Yale - not even bothering to check whether the research topic was one the college entertained.
I hadn’t dreamed, for one moment that I would be offered a place there. I barely knew anything about the university. Hell, I barely knew anything about Australia. I couldn’t even point New South Wales out on a map of the country. It wasn’t something I’d entered into with any prospect of it becoming a reality. Yet, there I was with it very real, Letter of acceptance.
“Oh, my God,” I mumbled.
If things had been different; if there was still a U.S. school considering my application, I would have been completely uninterested in studying on the other side of the world. But as things had turned out, I was forced to wonder what I had to lose.
Closing my email, I brought up the website for Newcastle University, and opened a new tab to Google the weather in New South Wales. It did not take long for me to warm to the idea. Who the heck needs Greece? I could have my very own adventure. There was rich history to be explored there, and, more importantly, they wanted to take me.
What had seemed like a flippant decision seven months ago was beginning to seem like the best thing I’d ever done. A smile started creeping onto my face as I looked at images of architecture, and landscapes around New South Wales, I heard the front door shut.
“Hey, Faith,” Laura called. “You back?” She must have seen my discarded shoes, but was no doubt troubled by the full quota of cookies that still sat on their plate.
“In here,” I replied, lifting my voice so that she would hear me.
A few moments later rapid tap sounded at the door. I say rapid, because she didn’t bother to wait for an answer before entering. “Hey, you OK?” she asked, concern very evident both in her voice and her face. Although the latter lifted very noticeably when she spotted the grin on my face.
“What?” she wondered, drawing the word out. “What’s going on?”
Swivelling my chair toward her, my cheeks began to ache. “You know this morning; you were saying there’s got to be something else I can do?” I said.
“Yeah,” she replied warily.
“Well, you were right,” I told her cheerfully. “It might not be Yale, but there is a school that’s accepted me.”
“Great!” she declared at an ear-piercing volume. “Where?”
“Australia,” I responded smoothly.
Her features froze, then fell slightly as her hand released its grip on the edge of the door and flopped down at her side. “Are you serious?” she questioned quietly.
“Yes,” I replied, my own smile slightly faltering. I knew what she was thinking. “It’s not as far it seems,” I added, pre-empting her concerns. “With Skype and everything, it won’t seem any different from being in another state.”
Shaking her head, she resumed her usual brightness. “No, you’re right. You’re absolutely right. And it’s wonderful,” she added genuinely. “It’s just wonderful.” Walking forward, she spread her arms wide.
I instantly leaped out of my chair and stepped straight into her embrace. Tossing my arms around her, I giggled. “It’s a little scary,” I admitted, “but I’m excited.”
“I’m excited for you,” she murmured gently. “I’m going to miss you, but I’m so excited.”
“Oh, Lau,” I mumbled. “I’m gonna miss you too, but I promise I’ll stay in touch.”
“You better,” she warned good-naturedly.
“And you’d be welcome to come visit,” I added enthusiastically.
“Hmm,” she hummed pulling back slightly. “I’m not sure about that,” she admitted with a purse of her lips. “All those spiders and snakes.”
Having not given much consideration to the native wildlife, I stood motionless. “But there’s anti venom for everything, isn’t there? And besides, the spiders aren’t everywhere, right?”
“And then, of course, there’s the crocodiles,” she added, a broad grin stretching her light pink lips.
“Stop it,” I chided, releasing her completely and slapping her upper arm. “Seriously, they’re not everywhere, are they?” I repeated my tone more grave.
A teasing grin, she stepped back.
“They’re not, are they? Laura?”
Refusing to respond, but beginning to giggle, my friend wandered out of my room. I could still hear her chuckling as she made her way down the hall.