"Isn't he cold? Because it's like freezing in here?" I heard Tricia ask Thyme.

Dean S. cleared his throat. "If everyone could just give us some time. We need to discuss this. It's a lot to take in all at once." He took off his blazer and handed it to Wittenauer. "Come back in half an hour and we'll have some decisions for you."

"Better make that tomorrow morning," one of the trustees said. "We have a lot to discuss."

We all went out into the hallway. Wittenauer was standing there in a leather-elbow-patches blazer and CFC boxers. I just looked at him and laughed and ran over to hug him. I couldn't help myself.

Then I remembered Grant was there. Oops. Because he and Mary Jo came up to hug me.

"So, this is, um, Grant," I said. My boyfriend from home? Even though I forgot he was here? "And Grant, this is Wittenauer."

"Walter, actually." He reached out to shake Grant's hand.

Is this what life is like for the Tom? Constantly introducing people he's kissed? I couldn't stand how nerve-wracking it was. Worlds colliding. Courtney freaking.

"Hi," Grant said. "Nice, ah . . ."

"Full Monty?" Mary Jo suggested.

We all laughed. I was actually impressed with the way Wittenauer and Grant were getting along. I admired them for it.

"So, do you think we have a chance?" I asked Annemarie as the group gathered around me.

"We didn't. Not until Mr. Maize here showed up." Annemarie checked out Wittenauer's muscular legs. "So. Been skiing much?"

Everyone went out for coffee, but I went back to the dorm with Grant. I should be so upset he's leaving tomorrow. But I'm not. I mean I am, and then I'm not. And I can't sleep. Too worried about what will happen tomorrow, next semester, next year, etc.

1/6.

Grant is gone. I am crying, but for the wrong reason. I did the unthinkable today. I am regretting it already.

Grant was supposed to be leaving tonight, but he ended up leaving this morning. We got into this conversation over breakfast before our 2nd trustee meeting and the next thing I knew, I was telling him that maybe we should break up, because long distance relationships really didn't work. I said I couldn't help feeling jealous of him, when he was with Mary Jo, and I didn't trust him and Melinda, or him and Beth, or-or anything. So I didn't want to pretend that everything was okay being apart, because it wasn't. "When I come home this summer, we can start seeing each other again. But in the meantime, I don't think we should promise to be exclusive, because-"

"You, jealous? What? It's not me that you need to worry about. I'm so jealous of all the guys around you, I can hardly even breathe sometimes," Grant said. "Who is it? Is it that mascot guy? Is it one of those guys you work with-what's his name-Mark? No-Ben. Wait. Hold on. It's not Ed, is it?"

"No! I mean, they're nice guys. Great guys. But no, that's not it," I said.

"Then who?"

"It's n.o.body, Grant. It's me," I said. "I just can't. I feel like I'm living my life in these two different places, and I've got to choose one and just go with it for a while."

Grant looked so upset. Suddenly I felt like throwing up. What was I doing? What was I saying? I was throwing away Grant? The superiorest guy I've ever met (except for small slip-up) (still a factor, still bothering me).

"You're going to think about this some more, right?" Grant asked. "I mean . . . G.o.d, Courtney. You're not serious."

"Grant, you know me. Once I decide something . . . well, it's pretty much set," I said.

"Like how you decided we'd make this long-distance thing work, no matter what?" Grant asked, sounding angry and sarcastic all of a sudden.

"The no-matter-what part sort of got to me," I said. "I didn't think no-matter-what would include what actually happened. But Grant, look. This summer, maybe we can work it all out, maybe-"

"You know what, Courtney? Forget this summer," Grant said. "I'll make my own plans."

Then he left. Left! Drove away. Left me standing there in a s...o...b..nk. Zero compa.s.sion.

I still love Grant. I love him to death. But I can't go through another semester like the last one. Especially not in this weather.

1/7.

Spent the day on the phone with Alison, Bryan, Mom, Jane, even Beth. Even Dad. "You did what?" was the common response. Mary Jo thinks I'm insane. I begged her to not tell Ed I am single now.

Anyway, trying not to focus on the negative. Trying to enjoy the "New Year's Resolutions for Cornwall Falls College" that were published by trustees after meetings concluded yesterday.

RESOLUTION 16: to phase out the use of the initials CFC and to spell out the college name on all official clothing, in all cheerleader chants, in all university publications, and whenever and wherever possible.

If I wasn't so depressed over kicking Grant to the s...o...b..nk-covered curb, I'd be happy.

1/8.

Another Monday morning at Bagle Finagle. Another New Product Team. New Product: THE CHEESE SHOPPE. Located within the walls of BF. Cream cheese not enough. We're going to sell wedges of cheese. Cheese fries. Cheese curds (both deep-fried and fresh). Cream of Cheddar soup. I swear, I don't get it.

Who wants cheese fries with their bagel? Who would come to us for cheese when there are specialty shops on the same block?

But suddenly it was really funny, because we were all back there: Jennifer, me, Ben (best co-worker ever, just named a.s.sistant Manager), and Marcus (missed him on vacation).

"Courtney? Can I rely on you to be the Product Lead?" Jennifer was asking.

"What? No," I said. "I'm going to be really busy this semester."

"Well, then . . . Marcus!" Jennifer said. "You can be Head of Cheese. Or . . . Head Cheese. Or Cheesehead! Ha ha ha."

Mark/Marcus shook his head. "You can make me a.s.sistant Manager if you want. Of Ap.r.o.n Redesign." He pulled one of the new bright yellow ones over his head. It said "Cheese All That" in black letters. "Who comes up with this stuff?"

"You know, Jennifer . . . we're going to quit if you don't stop introducing new products to run local family-owned stores out of business," Ben said. "You took on Brat Wurstenburger, and Brat Wurstenburger won. They're still doing great. Take that as a lesson, okay?"

"And what does a cheese shop have to do with bagels?" I asked.

"It's market research," Jennifer said brightly. She was over her burnout, back on her warpath. "I thought you'd be glad, Courtney. I thought you'd embrace the lack of meat."

Marcus had picked up a plate of cheese fries Jennifer handed him and dug in. "Oh my G.o.d. These are really good."

I stared at the cheese fries, resisting them. But feeling very, very weak. I walked over to the Blue Cheese Bonanza and took a whiff, just to kill my appet.i.te.

Later, we all stared glumly into the new refrigerator case.

"If she even suggests putting brats and cheese and cheese curds in a bacle? We're going to quit. Right?" I said to Ben and Marcus.

"Oh, definitely," Marcus said.

Ben nodded. "We are so out of here."

"Me, too." I started stacking the napkins with the BF logo facing out. Every once in a while, though, I stuck one in backwards or upside down. I'm such an instigator.

1/9.

6 pages left in this journal. Should probably start a new one to indicate new semester. Really should. But don't want to waste paper. New group in Badicals is going to focus on enforcing campus recycling and on saving the giant oak trees that circle the oval near the admin building, and on saving all trees from being killed.

Hope they don't make me sleep in those trees or strip to draw attention to the cause. Very cold. 5 below. Even Wittenauer would not strip today.

I must set an example for new focus group by reusing all half-filled notebooks this semester. Also I really need to cut down on printing emails and sticking them on my bulletin board.

Phone just rang. It was Dean S. Calling about a new work-study job for me. "But-the Funders," I started to say.

"Oh, no, this is a much more interesting and exciting proposition," Dean S. said. Proposition? I was starting to get very worried. "Also, a lot more hours. You won't need to keep working at that bagel shop. Are you ready?"

"Um . . . I doubt it," I said. Leave BF? Leave Ben and Marcus?

"You're going to be a.s.sisting the deans' offices. You're going to a.s.sist me, Courtney," Dean S. said.

I was highly suspicious. "You're just doing this so you can keep an eye on me, aren't you?"

"Just the same way I like to keep an eye on all our Cornwaller Fallers," Dean S. said. "Report to me on Friday at 10 A.M. All right?"

Do I get a helmet with this job? I was wondering. Dean S. is very dangerous to be around, constantly flinging and throwing things around. Got kind of depressed about losing the funding gig. Called Wittenauer to tell him.

"That's okay," he said. "I got shucked." He's no longer the mascot. "It's such a stupid job. But I just . . . liked it," he said, sounding really down.

"So you'll get it back," I said. "We'll protest. Don't even worry about it."

"They said I defiled the image of Cornwall Falls College and they couldn't be sure I wouldn't do it again," Wittenauer said.

"Well, good for you," I told him.

We started laughing and then he asked if I wanted to go for a walk. Was feeling adventurous, so I said yes. We went to see the actual Cornwall Falls. We walked. It wasn't that far-2 miles, maybe. The falls were unfortunately frozen over, just like everything else here. At first I was laughing because it seemed pathetic. Then I sort of had to acknowledge how pretty it was, thick crystallized ice, frozen tundra and all.

"They're really beautiful," I said.

"Yeah. I know," Wittenauer agreed.

We stared at the Falls for a while.

"You know, polar bears trap warmth against the snow with their fur," I said as my teeth chattered, repeating some line I'd heard on a nature special I'd watched 50 times.

"Is that a fact?" Wittenauer said, teasing me. "Let's try it." So we both threw ourselves onto the snowy ground to try to trap warmth-kept missing it. Kept trying again. And laughing.

Then we started walking back to town. Worked up a humongous appet.i.te on the way. Needed hot food, fast. Ice crystals formed on Wittenauer's stubble. s.e.xy in an "Everest" kind of way.

First restaurant we came to was Brat Wurstenburger. Didn't even discuss it, just barged in past steam-covered windows and grabbed the table closest to the kitchen. I got the onion soup. Delicious with cheese on top. Forgot to tell waitress no cheese. Didn't care. At some point I realized this outing was sort of datelike, but not really. And then I realized I had a lot more guy friends than ever before, like maybe this was a "mat-oor" thing one does when one goes away to college. More guy friends, more weird friends, more friends who drink way too much milk.

So maybe there sort of could be something between me and WW III? But I'm not going to push it right now. Just because basketball season is starting up does not mean I should be Rebound Girl and leap into my next relationship.

"Oh yeah," Annemarie said when we were discussing it tonight. "Consecutive monogamous relationships make no sense."

Well, um, okay. So what else is there?

1/10.

It's official. Mary Jo and I both have decided not to date anyone seriously this semester. Got too ugly and mixed up last fall. We're going to be single. Focus on cla.s.ses (she was already doing that-I wasn't). Friendships. Checking account balances. We'll join more groups. Try out for some rec clubs.

"But you know, when all is said and done, I still think you should get back together with Grant," Mary Jo said as she chewed on a stale Twizzler.

"I know you do," I said. "But it's not going to happen."

"Yeah. Well, there's always my brothers. If it doesn't work out with Ed . . . you know. There's five more to choose from."

Threw Twizzler at her head. "Thanks. I'm sure Soren and I would be really happy together."

"Who?"

"Wait. Is it Kierkegaard? Or Hegel?" I asked.

"Who?"

"Maybe it's Wittgenstein," I guessed.

"I thought his name was Wittenauer," she said.

"Not him!" I said. "Your . . . never mind."

Still too embarra.s.sed to tell her what I was trying to get at: name of 6th brother, who does not speak. Must sneak into her desk tomorrow and find out once and for all. If I can find her desk drawer handle under all the knickknacks.

1/11.

Last page of a journal always makes me turn back to see where this all began. Started this journal missing Grant intensely. Still miss him. We made a pledge to stay together, to make our LDR work. Didn't know what I was getting into. Honestly.

How many pledges have I made and not kept? It's got to be in the hundreds by now.

On reflection, thinking about what I said to Grant . . . that whole "maybe by the summer" concept . . . I sounded exactly like annoying ex Dave with my stupid time line. Also I broke it off just as he was about to leave town, which I swore never to do.

Resolution: never sound like Dave again. Bad idea. Watch for Dave-isms in speech and seek to eradicate them.

And that whole thing with Mary Jo a couple of weeks ago about not dating anyone this semester. I mean, that seems very silly in retrospect.

Oops. That was yesterday.

Well, anyway.

Here's what I'd say to Grant if he could read this. But of course I don't want him to read this. Except for the last page. Which I could possibly tear out and send to him if I'm feeling adventurous and if this comes out halfway decently.