When We Meet Again

“Yes ma’am,” she replied, nodding again.

“So please tell us in your own words why you feel you qualify for this scholarship?” the lady asked her. Meaghan took a deep breath and began to speak.

Her father had died in the first Iraq war; he had been an army medic who died when the camp was bombed by friendly fire. They received his small military pension but it was barely enough to keep them clothed. Her mother worked two jobs as a nurse and a store clerk to provide for them but there was definitely no money for private school. Meaghan had been a good student consistently throughout her formative years as well as an active participant in student politics. She worked as a photographer for the school newspaper and a photograph of hers had been used by the local papers. She aspired to be a surgeon and she knew that Dalton was a stepping stone that could get her where she needed to be. She asked nicely for their consideration and pledged to work hard to ensure that if they chose her they would be vindicated in that choice. She thanked them nicely for taking the time to interview her and listen to her.

By the time she was finished fat pasty looking guy was actually looking interested in the proceedings. She wondered why they didn’t introduce themselves. Perhaps they didn’t want her to have their names in case they rejected her bid…

*****

It was the final day of exams when Ms. Lainey asked her to stay behind after all her classmates had filed out. She looked grim and Meaghan braced herself for news that was maybe not good. She began to think what her plan B could be; public high schools might not be an automatic in to an Ivy League school, nevertheless, it wasn’t impossible.

“Meaghan, I just received a reply from the panel at Dalton. I haven’t opened the letter. I thought we could do it together,” Ms. Lainey said. Meaghan could barely find the wherewithal to nod her head. She swallowed hard; suddenly her mouth was really dry. Had she gotten in?

Ms. Lainey slit open the envelope and pulled out the letter.

“Dear Ms. Leonard, we are pleased to offer you-“

That’s as far as Ms. Lainey got before Meaghan was screaming and crying in her arms, her joy could hardly be contained. She snatched the letter to read the words for herself. They were offering her the scholarship as well as a book stipend. Furthermore, transportation to and from school was part of the package. Meaghan’s heart was so full she felt it was leaking out of her through her eyes. She looked up at Ms. Lainey; it looked like she was leaking at the eyes too.

“You should go and tell your mother,” she said to Meaghan.

Meaghan nodded mutely and ran out of the door, forgetting her bag behind her.

*****

When Meaghan began high school, she had all these lofty ideas of how Dalton School would be. She imagined herself having debates on history, culture and politics with her classmates and teachers but she quickly learned one thing. School kids were the same everywhere and teachers were more concerned with homework turned in on time than abstract debates on subjects beyond their ability to do anything about. So just like in middle school, Meaghan found herself spending more and more time in the library; among books which were always ready to engage her in her hunger for knowledge and higher truths. She took to spending her spare time in there, reading everything that caught her eye. The Dalton library was certainly extensive. She didn’t have as much time to utilize it as she would like; as soon as she turned sixteen she began work at Mr. Henley’s garage; keeping his records in order after school. She liked the job because it taught her a lot about managing finances on a tight budget, plus Mr. Henley didn’t mind if she read her books on her breaks. The perpetual rock music playing in the background was also another plus. She was working for a boss she liked, in a job she enjoyed and surrounded by her favorite music. She couldn’t ask more from life.

*****

She was working late one night, or rather she’d gotten caught up reading the Iliad while Bon Jovi blasted from the speakers and she didn’t want to move when a new customer drove into the garage. She peered down from the window in the office and saw that the garage was deserted. Mr. Henley had said something about going out for a smoke; no smoking was allowed in the garage because it was a fire hazard and it was late so no-one else seemed to be around. She wondered what she should do; it wasn’t like she could help the customer with his car…

He alighted from the vehicle and Meaghan got a load of his full head of hair as he looked around for someone to help him. He looked lost. The car was too expensive for this neighborhood and the guy was too well dressed. Meaghan stood and left the office, descending the stairs self-consciously as the guy watched her come to him. She guessed there was nothing else to look at really but still she wished he would look away.

“Hi. Can I help you?” she asked him. Now that she was up close to him and standing on the same level she could see how tall he was; and well built. But not as old as she’d first thought when she saw his clothes. No, he was closer to her age than the mid twenties she’d assumed at his outfit. Fitted khaki slacks and blue fitted shirt that looked tailor made for him. His dark hair was windswept and untidy but that could have been because he’d just alighted from a convertible…Lamborghini Aventador if she wasn’t mistaken. His green eyes were so intent on her that she felt like squirming but drew herself up instead and looked back at him.

“Where do I know you from?” he asked ignoring her question.

“What? I’m pretty sure I don’t know you,” she replied and then wondered if that was rude and if Mr. Henley would be mad at her for being brusque with his customers.

“Yes. I’ve seen you somewhere,” he said looking her up and down. And then his eyes fell on the book in her hand. It was emblazoned with ‘The Dalton School’ along its sleeve which was facing him. The frown cleared from his face.

“Oh you’re the scholarship chick in my biological science class aren’t you?” he asked. “You look different without the mountain of books you’re usually carrying.” Meaghan stared at him in stupefaction.

“What?” she asked completely stymied by the fact that not only did this guy actually know her but that he remembered her from school? She’d been feeling practically invisible at Dalton. Apart from her friend Bainbury (call me Bain he always said- something about Batman) who she’d met in her elective creative writing course, she had been pretty sure no-one else in the school even knew she existed. She wasn’t even important enough to bully.

“Yeah. You sit in the front and your hand is always up even when the teacher hasn’t really asked a question,” he said smirking slightly. If Meaghan had been any lighter skinned she’d be blushing but even so she felt her cheeks grow hot.

“Oh er, well that notwithstanding, how can I help you at this moment?” she asked him.

“Are you a mechanic?” he asked, “I need a mechanic.”

“Mr. Henley will be back shortly if you’d like to wait for him,” she replied.

“Thanks, I will,” he said. Meaghan stared at him, wondering what to say now.

“Er what happened?” she asked.

“What happened?” the guy echoed.

“To your car,” Meaghan clarified wondering if she should have started with an introduction. The guy seemed to hesitate so Meaghan jumped in.

“I’m Meaghan by the way,” she said stretching out her hand to shake. The guy looked skeptically at it.

“Dean,” he said reaching out to shake her hand reluctantly.

“Good to meet you Dean. Are you alright? Your car looks pretty banged up – did you escape unhurt,” she asked briskly so he would answer without thinking too much about it.

Dean looked at his car and then at her, “Er well, I think I might have hurt my ribs a bit but otherwise I’m fine. I just need the car fixed really fast so my dad doesn’t need to find out about this,” he said.