Eventually I got too depressed looking at my old life and closed the laptop. I took out my phone and tried to get through a level of Candy Crush I’d been stuck on for weeks, before getting frustrated and deciding to finish reading Wuthering Heights.
By the time I finished the novel I was starting to feel sleepy again, and I crawled under the covers of my bed for my first night’s sleep on a different continent.
Chapter Four
The next two days flew by in a blur. I started off by visiting Oxford, which was even more impressive in person than it looked when I checked it out online. I filled out some forms, got a student number, and was told that for first years, course registration online began in four days.
My next stop was London, where I quickly got lost in the Bohemian markets in the east end. There were so many great finds, I could definitely leave the giant shopping malls, this was phenomenal. Then, when I was tired of shopping, I could get Indian food that rivalled even the best in New York from random street vendors. Maybe this city wasn’t too bad after all.
I had a car and driver offered to me, and while I took the car to Oxford, I decided to take the train to London. After all, as a New York girl, I’m pretty used to the subway. It was a quick hour long trip, which wasn’t too bad, all things considered. My homesickness diminished greatly when I saw that as different as it was from New York, London had its own charm, its own vibrancy that made me feel at home.
Meanwhile, I was getting used to life as a princess at the Alcott family estate. Anita assured me that the staff were happy to make me whatever I wanted for breakfast every day, and to bring it up to me, but I insisted on going down to the kitchen myself to get the food, although I did allow them to make it for me most of the time.
The cook, Sam, seemed horrified the first day I asked for just a couple of pop tarts for breakfast, then had to inform me that they did not, in fact, keep pop tarts in the house.
Instead I was given a glass of freshly pressed orange juice and some back bacon with eggs, and a promise that the next day they would have pop tarts.
Lunch and dinner were largely on our own. We could request for the cook to make something, of course, and the cook would prepare the food and leave it in the fridge to be heated up whenever we wanted. Generally, however, I would wait for her to leave for the night and then make my own dinner. I was just too used to cooking for myself, it felt weird to let someone else do it for me all the time.
The first day that it was available I registered for my courses online. I had a list of subjects I had to take in order to graduate, and so I signed up for three English courses, one journalism class, and one business elective, a human resources course.
John set me up with a credit card in my name linked to his, which apparently had no limit. That came in handy when it came to buying textbooks and books for all my classes, and I thought to myself that if I’d gone to school in the states I surely would have come out of it with some hefty student loans.
Time continued to fly past, and before I knew it, I was scheduled for my first day of classes at University.
“Look at my darling daughter. Nineteen years old and off to Oxford. All grown up. I’m so proud,” my mother told me as she held me at arm’s length at the front door. It was basically the exact same thing as my first day of kindergarten, and my first day of high school.
“Thanks, mom,” I answered, wriggling out of her grasp as I’d done those other times. I didn’t really like my mom fussing over me too much. “I’m not that grown up yet though.”
“Oh you are. I remember the day you were born like it was yesterday. Time flies so fast,” she told me, tears beginning to well in her eyes.
“Ok, well, I gotta go. I love you,” I told her, planting a quick peck on her perfectly made up cheek and running out of the house before the waterworks really started.”
“I love you too,” came the tearful reply from inside the house, and I got into the waiting Mercedes, the door held open by Michael the driver, the engine already running.
As we sped towards the university, I could feel the nerves building up inside of me. My first day of university! What was I going to expect? Was Jack right? Was everyone there just some rich prick trying to get in and out before getting a good job through family connections? No way, that just couldn’t be right.
What if everyone was so much smarter than me? I was just some kid from New York who had never read Wuthering Heights until a few days ago. This was Oxford the place where Tolkien worked when he wrote Lord of the Rings. Edmund Halley, Lewis Carroll, Oscar Wilde, Edwin Hubble, TS Elliot, CS Lewis, Dr Seuss… the list of people, writers and otherwise, who attended this University was just so impressive. What if I didn’t fit in? What if I was just way, way too dumb for this place?