Point of Retreat

table from me and takes a seat. “So, what’s your story?” she asks.
     
    I’m not sure what story she’s referring to, so I raise my eyebrows at her as I take another sip and wait for her to elaborate.
     
    “With the two of you. And Kel and Caulder. It’s a little strange from a mother’s point of view. I’ve got an eleven year old daughter who seems to enjoy spending time with all you guys, I feel it’s my duty as a mom to know your story. You and Lake are both practically children, raising children.”
     
    She’s very blunt. However, the way she says it comes off as appropriate, somehow. She’s easy to like. I see now why Kiersten is the way she is.
     
    I set my sprite down on the table in front of me and wipe the condensation off the glass with my thumbs. “My parents died three years ago.” I continue to stare at the glass in front of me, avoiding her gaze. I don’t want to see the pity in her eyes. “Lake’s father died over a year ago…her mother passed away in September. So…here we are, raising our brothers.”
     
    Sherry leans back into her chair and folds her arms across her chest. “I’ll be damned.”
     
    I just nod and give her a half smile. At least she didn’t say how sorry she was for us. I hate pity more than anything.
     
    “How long have the two of you been dating?”
     
    “Officially? Since December eighteenth, a little over a year ago.”
     
    “What about unofficially ?” she says.
     
    I shift in my seat. Why did I even specify officially ?
     
    “December eighteenth, a little over a year ago,” I say again and smile. I’m not getting any more detailed than that. “What’s your story, Sherry?”
     
    She laughs and stands up. “Will, has anyone ever told you it’s rude to be nosey?” She makes her way to the front door. “Let me know if you need anything. You know where we live.”
     
    ***
     
    We spend the entire day Sunday watching movies and being sore. We're all still a little queasy, so we skip the junk food. Monday it's back to reality. I drop Kel and Caulder off at their school and head to the College. Three of my four classes are in the same building; one of the benefits of being in grad school. Once your course of study is set, all the classes are similar and are usually taught in the same area. The first of my four classes, however, is halfway across campus. It’s a graduate level elective called Death and Dying . I thought it would be interesting, being as though I’m more than experienced in the subject. I also didn’t have a choice. There wasn’t another graduate elective during the eight o’clock block that I could take, so I’m stuck with this one if I want all my credits to count. When I walk in, students are sporadically seated around the room. It’s one of the auditorium style rooms set up with tables that hold two seats each. I walk up the stairs and take a seat in the back of the room. It’s different, being the student now rather than the teacher. I got so used to being at the head of the classroom. The role reversal has taken some getting used to.
     
    The class fills up fairly quickly. It’s the first day of the semester, so it will probably be the only day people actually show up early. That’s usually how it is…the newness wears off by day two. It’s rare for a professor to have everyone on their entire roll show up the same day after day two.
     
    I throw my stuff on the table and take a seat. My phone vibrates inside my pocket so I take it out and slide my finger across the screen. It’s a text from Lake.
     
    Finally found my phone. Hope you like your classes. I love you and I’ll see you tonight.
     
    I begin to text her back when the professor starts calling roll. I finish the text and press the send button and put my phone back in my pocket.
     
    “Will Cooper?” the professor says. I raise my hand and he looks up at me and nods, then marks his form.
     
    He continues to call roll as I glance around the room to see if I recognize anyone. There were a couple of people I graduated High School with in my last semester elective. There usually aren’t many people I know in my classes since I’m a little ahead. Most of my high school classmates graduated college last May, and not many of them decided on Grad school. As my eyes make their way around the room, I notice a girl with blond hair in the front row turned completely around in her seat. When I meet her gaze, my heart sinks. She smiles and waves when