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A week into my classes at Barton and I was still incredibly excited to be there.
Being at college was different than high school. The students wanted to be there, for the most part, and despite what my high school teachers had said, it seemed like the professors were much more relaxed. They expected things of us, of course, but in general, I felt like I was going to have a better time at college than I'd had in high school.
I'd meant to start earlier, but with my injury, it had seemed smarter to put it off until the fall. Eddie started at the same time as I did, which I liked, too. For the first time, we were approaching this new stage together rather than one of us having to jump in before the other.
A week in, though, my class on early childhood education had thrown me. The topic of student teaching was brought up and we discussed what it would mean, how we would be placed, where we would be going, and what would be expected of us. At the end of the class, though, my professor had asked me to stay behind and then, gently, had asked what I might want the students to call me.
It was only then I realized what he meant. All my teachers had been called by their last name. Some of the professors didn't ask us to do the same thing here, but others did.
I didn't have a last name. I didn't remember what it was.
As I unlocked the apartment door and set down my bag, I was still thinking about it. Beverly had suggested maybe I would want to make a last name for myself, but I wasn't sure how to do that, what to choose. It felt strange, trying to just pick a name that fit me.
I was distracted as I came in, but I still walked to where Eddie was sitting and kissed the top of his head in greeting.
"Hullo," I said, still thinking. "How were your classes today?"
Being at college was different than high school. The students wanted to be there, for the most part, and despite what my high school teachers had said, it seemed like the professors were much more relaxed. They expected things of us, of course, but in general, I felt like I was going to have a better time at college than I'd had in high school.
I'd meant to start earlier, but with my injury, it had seemed smarter to put it off until the fall. Eddie started at the same time as I did, which I liked, too. For the first time, we were approaching this new stage together rather than one of us having to jump in before the other.
A week in, though, my class on early childhood education had thrown me. The topic of student teaching was brought up and we discussed what it would mean, how we would be placed, where we would be going, and what would be expected of us. At the end of the class, though, my professor had asked me to stay behind and then, gently, had asked what I might want the students to call me.
It was only then I realized what he meant. All my teachers had been called by their last name. Some of the professors didn't ask us to do the same thing here, but others did.
I didn't have a last name. I didn't remember what it was.
As I unlocked the apartment door and set down my bag, I was still thinking about it. Beverly had suggested maybe I would want to make a last name for myself, but I wasn't sure how to do that, what to choose. It felt strange, trying to just pick a name that fit me.
I was distracted as I came in, but I still walked to where Eddie was sitting and kissed the top of his head in greeting.
"Hullo," I said, still thinking. "How were your classes today?"
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He gestured around them, to the apartment they shared, the life they already shared.
"We're already over halfway there, Jamie. I mean, I. Yeah."
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"Okay," I whispered into my hands, my delight apparent. "Okay. I'll be Mister Jamie until then."
I didn't care if it sounded strange, I didn't care about anything. I could wait until we were married, because Eddie wanted to marry me.
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"You look insane," he accused, kissing the corner of Jamie's wild grin, as if he didn't look pretty crazed himself.
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I was certain he was right, I looked completely mad, but I didn't care. Whenever Eddie was involved, I felt a little mad, like he could undo all the bits of me that worried or grew tense or angry. He was such a good part of my life, the best, and if I looked insane some of the time, that was okay.