It’s settled. Freshman Composition, Creative Writing, and either Women in Government or Statistics.
“Oh,” said Michele knowledgeably, or was it Erica? “You’re taking graph graph monkey graph.”
“No,” I said, confused but firm. “I am taking statistics.”
“Jason took statistics,” said Michele. “Apparently one of the questions on the test was ‘Which of these things does not belong?’ And it was pictures: A graph, a graph, a monkey, a graph.”
“Hm,” I said.
“He circled the second graph.”
We all talked to the lad last night. He’s on the same coast now – it won’t be long. It’s making me giddy, like he’s in the next room and if I yell he’ll hear me. It’s not so far, really. He and I have done that drive, often enough. If I really needed to, I could whisk up to Seattle and there he’d be.
Apologies to Jason, Michele, Erica and Jacob, all of whom deserve to tell the graph monkey story much more than I.