Marigold Jenkins was a rather forlorn young woman as she raced across the campus on a frigid day in January, clutching her violin case to her chest.
She'd come from the student canteen where she'd been happy talking with her friend Lingay Mather-Polk, anxious to tell her she met someone, someone she could finally relate to in a positive, affectionate way, "that way...you know?" though never at a loss for words, this was a new experience and Marigold was giddy with emotional energy, proud to have shed virgin status happily with the first person she could "really" relate to.
"Tell me you envy me, you're jealous," she teased her friend Lingay who had never been on a date, but then regretting her words said "Don't worry, I'll find someone for you," feeling positively expansive.
"What is his name?"
"His name, you know, is Martin, I've mentioned him before, he brought me coffee and an apple Wednesday while I was working in the record store and we met up Friday night at that hangout on Liberty, next to that gift shop you like."
"Oh, I see," said Lingay biting her lip, afraid of what she knew; that Marigold's love was sitting across the the room making out with Salli Roman, who at that moment stood and announced they would soon be wed, and when Marigold finally saw for herself, with a swift aversion and a direct hit to the solar plexus, heard what everyone heard, she drew back sharply, crept out of the canteen and without buttoning her jacket or looking for her gloves ran through town at top speed, her deep breathing forming crystals in the air, her boots clomping with loud thwacks through the ice-packed snow, she ran until she exhausted herself then trudged up the back field leading to the dormitory, forlornly clutching her violin case to her chest, in the first phase of a long and rugged love life.
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