Good Medicine Freshman YearChapter 22 Fallout
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Good Medicine - Freshman YearChapter 56: Now I Understand free porn video
January 4, 1982, McKinley, Ohio
“And so another semester begins,” I said when I met Angie at the elevators on Monday morning.
“I saw your class schedule was basically the same.”
“The only real change is I have the creative writing core requirement replacing the scientific writing class. I am so glad I chose to take those in the order I did - it made all the difference in the world for doing the lab reports.”
“I’m not complaining! I ended up with an A in biology which I NEVER would have had without your help. And B’s in chemistry and calculus which were fine. Now I can focus on the stuff I care about!”
“You like history and sociology better than science?”
“For sure! I am NOT a science geek!”
The elevator arrived and we rode down to the ground floor. It was far too cold to run outside, so we made our way to the gym and ran on the indoor track before heading back to the dorm for our showers and morning prayers. Everyone joined us for breakfast, including Clark, who had made a New Year’s resolution to get up early enough for breakfast every day.
“Looks like we all survived first semester,” Pete said. “Nobody had any trouble?”
Everyone shook their head or said ‘no’.
“That study group was the thing that did it,” Kurtis said. “For all of us.”
“Can girls join?” Jeannette asked.
“I don’t see why not,” I said. “Our only concern is the group getting too big, not to mention we’re mostly science students. It’s mostly going to be math, chemistry, and biology.”
“Ugh,” Marie said. “No thanks!”
“If you ladies need tutoring in math or science, I’m sure we can work something out,” Jason said with a smile.
“I BET!” Jeannette smirked causing all of us to laugh.
We finished breakfast and headed for class. My schedule was literally identical to the previous semester, with just the substitution of the writing class. The only real difference would be karate practice on Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday afternoons. I’d stopped in to see Sensei Hikaru, and while he wasn’t happy with my limited schedule, he was happy I’d be returning.
Angie had told me on Sunday morning that she’d be taking karate lessons, and had the same times free that I would be going. That was another positive sign that she was working through whatever problems she’d had. I was in no rush, and with the way things around me had fallen apart in the romance department, it seemed safer to keep this one moving forward VERY slowly.
When biology class ended, I walked to the humanities building and found Doctor Anicka Blahnik, the professor who offered guitar and piano lessons, and inquired about available times. We agreed on 1:00pm on Tuesdays and Thursdays for fifty-minute lessons. Her charges were reasonable, and fit within the budget I had, though it would put a crimp in how often I could go to the movies. I felt, though, that the trade was worth it.
Budget-wise, I’d be in better shape after the Summer, because I’d arranged with Mr. Orlov to work a full forty hours each week for the entire time I was home. I’d only factored in twenty-five hours when I’d calculated my budget, and those extra fifteen hours a week for thirteen weeks were huge. I had considered asking Mr. Sokolov for more hours at the Quick Mart but I felt that would draw me right back into the trap I’d been in before when I didn’t have any time for myself.
My second class of the day was still chemistry, but now it was Organic Chemistry, one of the dreaded ‘knock out’ chemistry courses I’d have to take, the other being Physical Chemistry. Fortunately, I’d have the same professor I’d had for the first semester, which meant we’d build directly on what we’d learned, with the same style and same general expectations. That made me feel much more comfortable.
After chemistry, the gang met for lunch, and then I had an hour to kill before Calculus, so I got started on reading the first two chapters assigned for chemistry. After calculus, I headed to the ‘Composition’ course which was, as I’d suspected, the college equivalent of my High School creative writing class. I’d enjoyed that class and had written mostly science fiction when we’d had a free choice of topics. I wasn’t the best writer, but my grammar, spelling, and story organization were very good, and that made up for many failings in my ability to actually tell the story.
As I walked to dinner at the end of the day, I reflected on the classes and the amount of work I’d need to do for each one and concluded it would be similar to the previous semester. I’d also have chemistry and biology labs, but didn’t expect to have any trouble with those, and those grades, plus my homework grades, would give me some breathing room on exams.
Our study time was mostly spent reading the first assignments for all our classes, though I did have some ‘review’ problems to do for Calculus II, as there were Sophomores, Juniors, and Seniors in the class as well as Freshmen. When we finished, Angie joined me in my room to listen to music and for our evening prayers. When I walked her down the hall, I got a kiss on the cheek again, and smiled all the way back to my room.
January 5, 1982, McKinley, Ohio
“Good afternoon, Mike,” Doctor Blahnik said when I arrived in the classroom for my first lesson.
“Good afternoon.”
“You can take out your guitar. The first thing we’ll do is make sure it’s in tune, then I’ll show you how to hold it.”
“I think it’s in tune. I used my pitch pipe.”
“You sing?”
“In church, though not much in the past year or so.”
“Which church?”
“Holy Transfiguration Russian Orthodox Church in West Monroe.”
“So a cappella, then?”
“Yes. I know how to sing both the eight tones of the Orthodox system, as well as the choral music written by Tchaikovsky.”
“You told me you read music, which is very good, but we’re going to use ‘guitar tabs’. They tell you the chord to play and are the easiest way to start. So, come sit on the stool here and we’ll figure out the most comfortable position for you. I assume you’re planning to play popular music, not classical?”
“I think so. My friends encouraged me to learn so we could sing to accompaniment.”
“Then we’ll go for a more casual style. Put the strap over your head, on your left shoulder.”
I did as she asked and then she helped me position the guitar on my thigh, ensuring I held it close to my body. After a few minor adjustments, she was happy and I felt comfortable.
“The first thing we’ll do is learn the strings and then a simple chord. Your guitar has six strings, and they are tuned, if you did it properly, E-A-D-G-B-E.”
“That’s what the book said, listing the correct octave and pitch.”
“OK. Pluck each string for me, in succession, and we’ll see how it sounds.”
I did as she asked and she nodded approval.
“Good,” she said. “Let me show you how to play your first chord. This is done by pressing individual strings against the frets or wood on the neck. We’ll start with E-minor.”
For the next forty minutes, she taught me to play three chords - A-major, E-minor, and C. My fingers quickly became tired, and started hurting, but I pressed on with her encouragement that developing dexterity and endurance with my fingers would pay dividends with using medical equipment. I hadn’t thought of that benefit, and if it happened to be true, that would actually be a big plus.
When our session finished, she handed me a sheaf of papers that included a number of chords: C, A, G, E, D, A-minor, E-minor, and D-minor. She asked me to try to practice at least thirty minutes each day, just learning the chords and strumming the guitar. I agreed, and headed back to the dorm to relax until karate, which was at 4:00pm.
Angie showed up at my door at 3:45pm and I put on my gi, then my Winter coat, and we walked to the dojo. Sensei Hikaru issued Angie a uniform and white belt, and she went to the changing room to put it on. When she came out, I helped her tie her belt and then showed her the correct place to stand for exercises - the right-most position in the back-most row. I took my position to the right of a brown belt in the second row.
Despite jogging every weekday morning with Angie, I was out of shape and didn’t have the endurance I’d had back in my old dojo. My legs were fine, but my arms and shoulders tired and ached quickly. I also discovered I didn’t remember my kata as well as I should have, but I hadn’t done them for over six months. At the end of class, Sensei Hikaru pulled me aside and admonished me to be more diligent. I promised to do my best, though I didn’t say what I knew to be true - I had limited time I could dedicate to karate, and my progression, if there was any, would be slow.
“So what did you think?” I asked Angie as we walked back to the dorm.
“I think I’m totally out of shape!”
“Me, too,” I grinned. “My legs are fine from running, but my upper body is aching. I need a whirlpool bath or a massage!”
“Or a steam room! We had one at the YWCA back home. It was awesome!”
I chuckled, “I’d be MORE than happy to be in a steam room at the YWCA!”
Angie laughed, “Of COURSE you would! All those naked girls? Heaven!”
“I am a guy, after all,” I smirked.
“I just don’t see you running amok in the girls’ locker room. It doesn’t fit.”
“So call it a fantasy that will never be realized,” I grinned. “I take it you’re coming back to karate on Thursday?”
“Yes.”
“Great!”
The more things we did together, the more comfortable I felt she would be. It was funny, because despite insisting she wasn’t ready to be my girlfriend, she was more involved in my life than ANY girlfriend I’d ever had! Jocelyn didn’t really count because our actual boyfriend-girlfriend relationship was measured in days.
“See you in thirty minutes so we can head to church for the Vesperal Divine Liturgy?” I asked.
“It’s, what did you call it instead of Epiphany?”
“Theophany. It celebrates Christ’s baptism in the River Jordan, as opposed to the visit of the Magi.”
“OK. See you right after a shower!”
We both showered, dressed, and then headed to Saint Michael for the service.
January 8, 1982, McKinley, Ohio
As I was getting ready for my date with Melody, I thought about Nancy. I had been very tempted to call her, but she’d asked for space, so in the end, I’d decided not to. I knew I’d see her in the morning, and if she raised the issue, I’d simply point out that she had, in effect, told me not to call her. I pushed Nancy out of my mind, and finished dressing. Melody showed up at my door as planned and we headed across the street for burgers.
“What’s up with you and Angie? It’s like you’re joined at the hip.”
“We’re friends,” I said. “Nothing more.”
“That’s really surprising. You guys do more together than most couples.”
“It’s complicated, but it’s true. She knows I asked you out.”
“And that girl you were seeing off-campus?”
“We broke up.”
“Really? During break?”
“Yes. We hit a couple of rocky patches and one of them we just couldn’t get past. She told me she needed her space.”
“Oh man, that’s the kiss of death.”
“I know.”
“Her loss is my gain!”
“You’re that sure of yourself?” I grinned.
“Who just sat down across from you in the booth at this excellent burger joint?”
“You did.”
“So that’s a win, don’t you think?”
“I suppose so.”
“Gee, don’t sound so thrilled.”
“Sorry, I don’t really want to think about Nancy right now.”
“Maybe that wasn’t my best strategy for success.”
“And what is success?” I asked.
“I suppose the safest answer to that question is a second date.”
“And the unsafe answer?” I grinned.
“Great sex!” she laughed.
“That again?” I chuckled. “Maybe we should have just done it to get it out of the way so you could decide if I’m worth it or not!”
“That’s an interesting idea,” she smirked.
“You’ll just have to take your chances. IF we get to that point, then you’ll find out.”
“You’re serious? If I wanted to go to bed with you after dinner, you’d say ‘no’?”
“I’d say ‘not yet’,” I said. “And no promises.”
“Is there something wrong with me?” Melody asked.
“The only thing wrong is that you aren’t really listening to me. Or, if you are, that you don’t believe me. Sex isn’t a priority. Grades are. And it’s no competition. Look, I like sex. I really do. And I really enjoy it. But if push comes to shove, my medical license has to win out. Period. But it’s more than that. I also don’t believe in just randomly having sex, either. I’m no prude and I’m not a virgin, but I also don’t have sex lightly.”
“Because of church?”
“That’s part of it, but it’s more than that. I’ve had my ‘one-night-stand’ and it just felt empty, which reinforced my beliefs about it. And there was a girl I was with a few times I never planned a future with. I’m not quite sure how I feel about that. But if you just go around screwing everyone in sight, it kind of loses any special meaning and then what is it when you marry? Just a physical thing you do together? Shouldn’t it mean more than just an orgasm?”
“I hadn’t thought of it that way,” Melody said. “I guess the 60s don’t hold much attraction for you.”
“Sex, drugs, and rock & roll?” I grinned. “I’d never do drugs.”
“But sex and rock & roll?” she asked.
“You’ve seen my music collection. The other thing, well, let’s see how things go.”
The waitress came by and we ordered our burgers and a large plate of French fries to share.
“Do you kiss and stuff?” Melody asked.
“When it’s the right time,” I said. “I’m not sure why there’s such a need to press things faster than necessary.”
“May I make an observation?”
“You’ve made plenty so far! Why ask now?”
Melody laughed, “True. You come across like a cold fish and someone who would be boring in that department. I’m not saying you are, but you aren’t exactly advertising it as something you do well.”
“Does my opinion of that even count?” I asked. “I mean, seriously; if I think I’m some sort of stud does that make me one? Isn’t the only opinion that counts the one of the girl in question?”
“Sure, but how does she even form that opinion if you are always so cold about it?”
“Turn the conversation around. If I was trying to talk YOU into moving faster than you wanted to, how would you feel?”
“Didn’t we have this conversation?”
“Yes. How about we stop talking about it and just enjoy our meal and then go listen to some music?”
Melody nodded, “Sure.”
Our food arrived and we started eating. The conversation during the meal was about getting to know each other better, as well as about school and family. I was much happier with that conversation than verbally jousting about sex. It wasn’t that I didn’t find Melody attractive - I did. But I didn’t want a relationship that was based on sex. I’d tried that with Nancy and I just couldn’t do it. In fact, it was my inability to do that which had led directly to our break up.
When we finished our burgers, we walked back across the street to the dorm and went up to my room where I put on Queen’s Greatest Hits. As the first notes of Bohemian Rhapsody flowed from the speakers, I adjusted the volume, got a couple of Cokes from my mini fridge and went to sit with Melody on the couch.
“So this is your usual life?”
“Pretty much,” I said. “Not the most exciting in the world, but it works for me. There was a bit too much drama in my life the last six months of last year. I’ll settle for a nice mundane existence.”
“What happened?”
“Just a bunch of stuff back home. Nothing to worry about now; most of it’s been resolved. I’m just hoping for this semester to be totally peaceful.”
“How was your Christmas?”
“Pretty much the same as always. We don’t make a big deal about the presents. The most important stuff is going to church and a family gathering with my grandparents, uncles, aunts, and cousins. How about you?”
“My parents are the ‘go overboard’ types. Just tons of gifts. We didn’t go to church much, but Christmas was one of the days we did. That and Easter, really. It just wasn’t important.”
“What church?”
“Methodist. So like, totally the opposite of your ‘smells and bells’ as the pastor at our church once called ‘High’ churches. But that seems like it’s very important to you.”
“It is,” I agreed.
“But you’ll date someone who doesn’t go to your church?”
“Sure. But, and I don’t want to mince words here, I intend to marry in the Orthodox Church and raise my kids Orthodox. Technically, there’s no dogma against marrying a Christian who was properly baptized in the name of the Trinity, but it would be difficult to raise the kids Orthodox if my wife didn’t go to church.”
“So you couldn’t marry a Jewish girl? Or a Hindu or Muslim?”
“No. One of the clear rules is baptized in the name of the Trinity. So that would leave out Jehovah’s Witnesses, for example. In addition, all Orthodox marriages have to be in the church building and performed by the priest.”
“So what if you got married in, say, Las Vegas?”
“If the priest and bishop were willing, there would be a crowning ceremony in the church, with the same basic restrictions. It would be done via «ekonomia», which allows handling of gray areas. In the case of marrying in Las Vegas, it would correct the ‘error’ by doing a shortened version of the marriage ceremony. If you want to get all technical, it’s actually DOING the marriage ceremony, but it eliminates the ‘betrothal’ portion of the modern ceremony. They used to be separate, and could be done separately if someone wanted.”
“Sounds complicated.”
“A bit, but when you grow up in the Church it’s just normal stuff you hear and see all the time, so you learn it.”
“That sounds like a serious hurdle for anyone to jump.”
I nodded, “It was too much for the girl I went steady with during my Senior year in High School. We broke up because of the issue.”
“Well, that puts an entirely new spin on things.”
“Why? You knew I went to church every Sunday and said morning and evening prayers before you asked me to ask you out. It shouldn’t really be a surprise that it’s important to me. You can’t have missed the icons in my bedroom, either. I don’t think you need to be Perry Mason to figure out the answer from all that evidence!”
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