4. Kennedy

FRESHMAN YEAR

Nerves flutterinside my stomach as I set foot on Valencia City University’s campus. I’m not exactly sure this act of creating distance is the smartest decision I’ve ever made, but it’s a little late for regrets now. Nevada is my new home for the next four years, period.

I applied to twelve universities, was accepted into seven, and selected this little-known, liberal arts college because it’s the furthest place away from everything and everyone in Philadelphia.

As I scan the main yard of my new campus, there are large white tents lined up in several neat rows, each offering information and goodies to convince newly accepted students and their families to make their final decision. It’s supposed to be one of the most exciting days of my life post-high school, but it feels somewhat bittersweet now that my parents refuse to be in the same room together. This is a milestone moment, and my Mom should be here too, but I guess divorce doesn’t permit space for grown-ass adults actually to act like ones.

“It’s a decent campus,” my father comments as he swivels his neck to survey his surroundings.

“Dad, you say that as if you’re surprised that there are nice universities in places other than back home.”

“Well, to be fair there’s nothing like the heritage schools you were accepted to on the East Coast.”

I let out a heavy sigh in protest. He’s been like this ever since I made my decision.

“But even though the buildings look brand new here, the architecture is at least tasteful,” he adds as if throwing me a bone.

My father can be a bit of an elitist regarding higher education, believing that universities in Boston, Philadelphia, and New York are inherently superior to schools in other parts of the country just because of their age and reputation.

“Did you expect VCU to look like the Vegas Strip or something?” I ask sarcastically.

“Can we have a simple day together without all of the snark, Kennedy?” he sighs. “It’s incredible how you look exactly like me but act so much like your mother.”

That’s supposed to be a dig in more ways than one. He thinks I’ve chosen this “inferior” university because I’m running from my problems, and I’ll admit, there’s some truth to that. My parents have become one of those problems.

They are newly separated, and it’s been a weird space to maneuver since they told me the news. That’s why my father is here with me today on a final decision tour, and it will be just my mom who will come back to help me move to Nevada later.

If I reflect on my childhood with brutal honesty, I think my parents have always had marital problems. They were never outwardly affectionate with each other and seemingly disinterested. I remember overhearing my mother once telling my aunt that even though she loved things about him, she and my father were an unfortunate mismatch. I didn’t think much about it at the time, chalking their conversation up to being what women do when they’re pissed with their significant others.

But I was wrong.

My mother wasn’t angry, she was sad.

Needless to say, divorce is disruptive as fuck. It’s one of the reasons I’m on a campus two thousand miles away and not at any of the schools at the top of my list, such as Drexel, Howard, or Boston College. I wanted to distance myself from my parents’ passive-aggressive mess as far as I possibly could.

Among other things, I’m running from.

“Don’t ruin my day by talking crap about my mother. This is not about your marriage. Today is about my new life as a student here.”

Honestly, we didn’t need to fly across the country for this. My decision has already been made, and I don’t need this visit to confirm that, but my father needs it.

“I wasn’t talking crap about your mother,” he offers defensively but before I can argue back with him, a girl with freckles, two blonde high-placed ponytails, and wearing a cropped university t-shirt approaches us.

“Welcome to VCU! You two look like you may be lost. Have you checked in yet?”

“We haven’t,” my father answers with a smile. “Can you point us in the right direction?”

“Of course I can!” She squeals like a cheerleader on a sugar high, and I almost throw up a little in my mouth. “My name’s Pepper, and I’m a campus ambassador. I’m also a rising sophomore in Arts and Sciences with a concentration in design.”

Nobody asked for her life story.

“What’s your name?” She waits for an answer from me with the eager look of a puppy, and I say a quick request prayer to whatever higher being can hear me that all the kids here don’t act like her.

What the fuck is she so happy about?

“Kennedy.”

“Ooh, like the president?”

“Uh, yeah,” I deadpan. “Like the president.”

“What’s your last name, Kennedy, so we can look up your registration and give you your goodies?” she asks as we end up under the largest tent on the grassy area closest to where we were walking.

“Is this fake grass?” My father asks in a tone of snobby disbelief that makes me want to disappear into the astroturf.

“I don’t think so,” Pepper replies with the same high energy in her voice. “But I’m not sure. The desert heat doesn’t make it easy to grow much vegetation around here.”

“Aah, yes. I just wondered–”

“Bing,” I say to Pepper, cutting off the exchange between her and my dad short.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“My last name is Bing.”

“Oh, great, let me get you all checked in, Kennedy Bing.”

I’m worried that my father will notice that the students checking us in are using an antiquated system of looking for my name on a printed spreadsheet instead of a computer. He’s been looking for any excuse to convince me that his hard-earned money is being wasted on this second-rate university. His words, not mine.

“There you are,” Pepper says after finding my name. She reaches under the table for a large black cotton tote bag filled with all sorts of Valencia City University pamphlets and paraphernalia.

“This shirt is in there,” she says excitedly, referring to the top she’s wearing. “You’ll have to cut it yourself if you want a cropped version, though.”

I’m not even close to interested in doing that.

“Thanks,” I deadpan.

“Have you made your final decision yet?” she asks.

“Kennedy is weighing her options,” my father butts in.

“Actually, it’s decided,” I correct him. “I’m coming here in the fall.”

“Yay!” She fake claps. “That’s a wise choice. Were you sent your housing assignment yet?” she asks.“Maybe we’re in the same dorm.”

“No, I’m renting an apartment off campus.”

“Wow, for your freshman year?”

My father smiles smugly. “I wanted to make sure she stayed in something nice.”

“I wasn’t sure I could live with a roommate,” I say, making excuses for my father’s snobbery. “I’m walking distance from campus though.”

“Oh, cool.” She smiles, but I sense a tinge of judgment behind it. “Well, make sure you visit all the tents on campus. There will be opportunities to win even more swag at some of the campus club tents. The chess club is even giving away a VCU-branded Stanley mug!”

Another water cup?

Kill me now.

“Oh, and there are various food trucks over there, too. If you’re hungry, I think the veggie egg roll truck is the best on campus.”

“Veggie egg rolls. Got it.”

“Mr. Bing, if you want, there’s an optional presentation for parents in the auditorium while Kennedy makes her rounds. The dean will be speaking, and it starts in fifteen minutes, so you should probably head over there to grab a good seat.”

“Did they mention a presentation in the informational email?” my father asks, not liking that there’s something official going on that he didn’t know about in advance.

“They may have,” I say casually. “But I assumed we’d learn more about it when we got here.”

“Well, if we hadn’t met Pepper, I would have missed the whole thing.”

Pepper smiles, apparently proud of the job she’s doing as a campus ambassador. “There’s a lot of information for new students to remember, sir,” she says in defense of me.

Okay, maybe she’s not so bad after all.

“So you should get going,” I rush him.

“It’s not that far at all, Mr. Bing. Just follow that stone pathway to your left, and it’s the big building on your right that says Sun Stadium.”

“Thank you, Pepper.” My father gives me a disapproving look. “I’ll text you when I’m finished, Kee-Kee. Don’t get lost.”

“Sure, Dad. Fine.”

“And Kennedy?”

“Yes?”

“Please don’t walk around campus with that scowl on your face, okay? You’re much prettier when you smile.”

I hate it when he says shit like that.

Ten minutes later, I’m scarfing down one of those veggie egg roll things Pepper recommended as I sit on an empty bench in what feels like the only quiet corner of campus. Grateful to people-watch, eat, and decompress before my father returns.

The campus is a lot different from the other schools I’ve visited, but in a good way. Universities from my side of the country are large, sprawling places covered in old brick buildings that have stood there for at least a hundred years. VCU, on the other hand, is a small, relatively new university with modern buildings and a kind of peaceful West Coast aura about it that I find refreshing.

Although based on what I’m witnessing dead center in the middle of campus, maybe I’ve spoken a little too soon.