“We miss you too, baby.” I could hear the emotions in her throat. We’d never been this far from one another, and she was worried about me. I hated that I needed this, but being at home just reminded me of everything. “Now today is the first day of the fall semester, right? Are you nervous? It’ll be different than summer classes. And when do you hear about your internship?”

I smiled, thankful that we were back to chatting about other things. “I find out today about my placement. Since I transferred in the summer, they had to scramble to find me something. I’m guessing Dad helped?” I prodded.

Mom laughed loudly, the sound like expensive bells hanging from a booming church tower. “Your father did not Lori Loughlin shit for you. Despite your excessive extracurriculars,” Mom began. Excessive extracurriculars was a politically correct way of saying I spent every night drunk off my ass and bouncing between frat houses back in California. “You have an amazing GPA and awesome recommendations from your professors. Everyone was shocked when you—”

“Okay,” I interrupted. My whole purpose for running here was to escape what I’d done, not dig it up every time I spoke to my mom. I could hear her huffing on the other end of the line. “I’ll let you know about my placement and how the first day of school went. I love you,” I said while speed walking on the sidewalk past crowds of people. My stomach was rumbling, aching for some food.

“Okay, baby. Go do great things,” she said.

I hung up the phone with a smile on my face. A homeless man on the street was playing a battered and scuffed violin. His eyes were closed, and he had a look of pure joy on his face. His skin was burnt from the hot Texas sun, and his clothes were dirty with various holes in them. I paused for a moment to listen to the haunting song he expertly played before placing my apple in his box.

2

“We couldn’t find you a placement for your internship.”

My advisor was leaning back at his desk, thumbing through papers. I had been waiting outside of his office for our appointment for two hours. I’d expected that the first words to leave his mouth would be an apology, not that.

“Excuse me? What do you mean you can’t find me a placement?” I asked. “My program requires an internship for graduation. I’ve already arranged my Public Relations courses around this schedule. This is the final step to graduating early. What am I supposed to do for an entire semester?”

My advisor, whose name I think was Luis Tuesday or some shit like that, let out an exasperated exhale, as if my freak out was dampening his mood. “I looked at your schedule. Have you ever considered Sports Media?”