Searching For Moore by Julie A. Richman

Chapter Three

Then…

WALKING ALONG THEQuad, map in hand, Schooner tried to find Brewster Hall. The next part of orientation had the freshmen reuniting with their parents and he knew that is where his would be waiting for him.

The tree-lined Quad sat like a large rectangular park at the center of campus. Lined along its length were old Spanish Mission style buildings that were built in the early 1920’s and capped with red barrel tile roofs. At the far end, like a patriarch at the head of the table, was the University Chapel, with its bell tower standing out in relief against a mountain range partially obscured by Inland Empire smog.

She was standing on the sidewalk talking to her parents, white linen dress gently billowing in the breeze. He had noticed her in the last session. How could he not? She looked like an angel—long silky blonde hair flowing down her back, wide cornflower blue eyes and a pouty pink glossed mouth. Tall, slim, and athletic, Schooner was betting she had been the prom queen at her high school. She was perfect. We look like we belong together, Schooner thought. She was the female version of him.

As he walked by, she stole a glance and smiled.

Oh yeah, she had noticed him and from the look in her eyes, she liked what she saw. Schooner flashed his All-American boy smile, a smile that began gracing catalogue covers when he was only four years old. Watching her eyes widen, he knew she’d be finding a way to sit near him in the rest of the orientation sessions. He smiled to himself… oh yeah, college was going to be great.

As he approached, his parents were talking with another couple outside a door to what he assumed was Brewster Hall. Immediately catching his eye, his mom waved him over. “Schooner. Over here.”

Schooner Moore had inherited the best from both of his parents. Had they had a checklist of physical attributes, he was the embodiment of all the checks in all the right places. From his mother, her fine bone structure and square jaw, high cheekbones, straight nose and full lips. From his dad, clear blue eyes and thick, fair hair with just a slight wave, making the ends flip out. Both parents were tall, and he was blessed with his mother’s easy grace and his dad’s wide shoulders and narrow hips.

As he approached his parents and the other couple, his dad took over the introductions, “Schooner, meet Mr. and Mrs. Silver. Their daughter Mia is also a freshman.”

Schooner shook Mr. Silver’s hand, noting the man had that east coast intellectual look about him, with slightly long wavy gray hair and gray-blue eyes. Turning to Mrs. Silver, he politely offered his hand. Her forthright manner was immediately evident, as her warm brown eyes instantly captured him. She sized him up. He could feel it and couldn’t control his smile, a real smile.

“You are adorable,” she said, treating him to her strong New York accent.

Used to women—of all ages—fawning over him, Schooner never blushed, yet now, he could feel the heat in his cheeks. There was something in Mrs. Silver’s gaze that cut through all that external California bullshit, and he could feel that she was really seeing him, and she still thought he was adorable.

In that moment, Schooner felt more special than he’d ever felt. Inexplicably, he wanted her approval and was so happy to have it.

“There’s Mia,” Mr. Silver’s voice cut into Schooner’s thoughts, jolting him, and he dropped Mrs. Silver’s hand.

Schooner turned. Coming down the path to Brewster Hall was Mia Silver. Cocking his head to the side, trying to take her all in, he could feel the small smile on his face. Mia didn’t look like any of the girls he knew.

Bounding up the walk, quirky lopsided smile taking over her cute face, Mia had a mane of long dark curls bouncing behind her. She was wearing funky Lisa Loeb glasses, and as she got closer, he could see that the irises of her big eyes were an ombre green that grew lighter as they moved in toward her pupil. The pupil itself was surrounded by rich caramel colored flames. Not only was there sharp intelligence in her beautiful eyes, but Schooner thought they looked like a devilish invitation, like they were beckoning to him, “Let’s be bad together. Let’s have some fun.”

Schooner felt his chest tighten.

Not more than 5’2”, clad in faded Levi’s, a tee-shirt and clogs, he wondered if she realized that she was probably the only girl in the entire freshman class not wearing a dress. And he surmised, she probably wouldn’t even care. What was she doing on this campus? he wondered. She did not fit in.

“Hey.” She smiled at him, confidently, her freckled nose scrunching up.

“Hey,” he returned, captured by her energy. At barely five feet nothing, he was sure she made an entrance everywhere she went. This girl had presence. And she was different. She was clearly not a California girl. He wasn’t quite sure what to make of her.

“Honey, meet Mr. and Mrs. Moore and Schooner,” Mrs. Silver offered.

Mia beamed at the Moores, offering a firm handshake and immediately engaging Mr. and Mrs. Moore in conversation, while Schooner became acquainted with the Silvers.

As they entered Brewster Hall, he could see Mrs. Silver giving Mia a little nudge and instinctively he knew it was about him. Mothers loved him. Mia rolled her eyes at her mom. He loved that.

Over the next two days, the Moores and the Silvers spent the majority of their time together, while Schooner and Mia attended the different freshman sessions. As expected, the prom queen found a way to be seated near Schooner, separated by one of her friends who struck up a conversation with him, then quickly included the prom queen.

While Schooner started gravitating toward the prom queen, her equally pageant-girl-like friends and other jock guys from his dorm, Mia’s growing entourage seemed to be a group from her dorm of Out-of-Staters, über-intellectual potheads and a few gays and lesbians. They were clearly migrating toward their comfort zones, which were as far apart as opposing football teams’ goal lines.

On the last night of orientation, the Moores and the Silvers dined together off-campus. When they parted at the end of the evening, Mr. Moore pulled Schooner aside to where he and Mr. Silver were standing. “Keep an eye out for her, son,” motioning toward Mia. “She’s only sixteen. Make sure you’re there for her.”

Only sixteen? This little ball of fire who clearly already had her own following on campus was only sixteen. Wow—she has the confidence of a twenty-five-year old, he thought. Only sixteen?

“I will, sir,” promised Schooner, trying not to act stunned at the revelation.

He’d be turning nineteen in just a few months and little Mia was, well, in fact, little Mia. She certainly didn’t seem to need any looking after. In fact, he felt pretty certain Mia Silver could take very good care of herself.