19. Ned #2
“Students show up to Newbury every fall who come from that same experience I had. We muddle through financial-aid packages, applications, all of it, just to get lost on campus, and we end up asking directions from a kid whose last name is on the building we’re trying to find.
And listen, my parents grew up here and I did too, so I wasn’t dealing with a language barrier or a foreign culture or visas or anything like that.
Still, it’s a hell of a culture shock to step onto campus when you’re the first in your family to do so. ”
He shouldn’t have sworn, he’s sure, but he gets another couple nods, so he goes with it, feeling like he’s starting to hit his stride.
“And that’s just getting to school, when you have support—hopefully—from your friends and family, who are excited to see you off on this new adventure.
But going back for a second semester? A third?
My buddy was waiting tables, planning to become a bartender, and making bank while I was taking out more and more loans.
We all want to quit, to just go home, get back to our normal lives, and that’s what I want to talk about today, how nearly universal the struggles of first-generation students are, and the effect that has on social stratification across socioeconomic classes, nationwide.
And, most importantly, what we can all do about it. ”
Afterward, he shakes hands with everyone who comes up to him, repeating their names when they say it, and actually genuinely enjoying himself.
Rich kids, they used to say of Newbury students when he was growing up, and yeah, the room is full of a different mix of folks than it would be at Adams or Callahan, or especially at a state school, but his research is truly what he said: universal.
It touches Newbury as surely as anywhere else, and Beverly clasps his hand between both of hers when she follows after the last member faculty who stopped to chat with him.
“That was great,” she says, and it sounds like she actually means it.
Ned will take it, even if it comes hand in hand with her leaps of assumptions about his love life.
“Thank you. I can really, honestly say I didn’t ever think I’d interview at Newbury.
I know Abbot—Doctor Abbot, Henry—is really the one with his foot in the door here, but it’s still something for this kid from across the river. ”
“You’d be a great fit here,” Beverly says.
Which is nice and mostly, Ned knows, it’s a delicate political stance she’s decided on. Should Abbot end up here regardless of Ned being hired, her star new researcher, and the kid of family friends, won’t think Beverly did less than everything to bring along his—
Not his spouse. Boyfriend. The word had felt so warm and secure.
Boyfriend, Ned hasn’t gotten tired of saying yet.
Abbot, his incredibly good-looking, impossibly smart boyfriend, and when the mark of a year had ticked over, it had brought some reassurance with it.
Ned can date. He can make a relationship work again, pull his life together and untangle himself into a functioning adult who can keep up his half of being in a couple for an entire year.
Getting married rings in his head as he says goodbye to Beverly and steps out into the bright cold of the day.
He scrambles for his phone. There’s a text from Jen: Is Peggy’s basketball jersey at your place?
Followed up with Found it, nvm. Another from Dad telling Ned and Mom no need to buy any avocados if they stop by the store, he’s got plenty.
And Abbot, a Good luck he sent earlier, and then How did it go? just moments ago.
Okay. Nothing has changed. Beverly just thinks they’re getting married and that’s fine. Good, even.
His phone rings and he jumps.
It’s just Pat. “If I texted Claire last night and she hasn’t texted me back yet, does that mean it’s over?” Pat asks.
“Um, hi?”
“Did you hear from her?”
“Me?”
“About Baxter,” Pat says, impatient.
“Oh. No, not yet.”
“Do I call?”
“Call Baxter?”
“No, I’m not going to call Baxter,” Pat says.
“I mean, I would. 1-800-WOOF. We’d talk about how much he misses living with me and how I’m actually his favorite, though I’m pretty sure his real favorite is Abbot.
Claire. Do I call Claire? It was a funny text last night, too.
Not my best, but honestly not a bad showing. Definitely a chuckler.”
“She’s probably just busy.”
“Right, but I’m busy too, or I’m supposed to be busy, but she’s literally the only thing I can think about.
Ned, help me on this. Because listen, we spent all weekend together, but now I haven’t heard from her since yesterday afternoon.
This is definitely the longest she’s gone without getting in touch, so it’s the longest I’ve gone too because I’m not going to badger her, but I should, right?
I have to say something, and isn’t it weirder if I text and she doesn’t respond?
But what if I call and she doesn’t pick up?
Then that’s like—that’s bad. Real bad. I mean, not right away but by tomorrow, that’s kind of making a statement right?
Not getting back to my text or answering my call or calling me back?
And then it’s like, do I leave a message?
And say what, right? Oh my God, she’s dead. ”
“She’s not dead,” Ned says.
“Then she’s breaking up with me.”
“It hasn’t even been twenty-four hours.”
“Ned, this is serious.”
“I’m sorry.” Ned pinches his nose. “I’m a little distracted.”
“This could not be more important.”
“No, I know, I know. I’m at Newbury. I just finished my talk.”
“How’d it go?” Pat’s tone switches gears in a flash. “I bet they loved it. Did you make a fancy graph with all the lines and shapes and stuff? Listen to me. I sound like a doctor.”
“This spousal-hire thing? I’m so fucked.”
“Nice,” Pat crows, and Ned knows from his tone that if they were in person, he’d be holding up a hand to high-five.
“No, it’s not nice at all, because Beverly thinks we’re engaged. Or on the road to being engaged? She apparently talked to Chris, and it spiraled from there.”