The catch-up begins

How I rode my bike to school four days in a row but only rode it back once

The date was April 21. I finished checking out of my apartment (what an ordeal; I won't write a whole blog post about it, but suffice it to say the women who checked us out were super nitpicky and we were not prepared for super nitpicky) and moved in with my grandparents temporarily to finish out my final days working at the Chemistry Department. (I'm very pleased to report they asked me to come back in the fall after I finish my internship, so they were only my final days until August.) Grandma and Grandpa live within biking distance of BYU, as you know from several of my previous blog posts (see Who's awesome?, A scare, a big accomplishment, and the next chapter of the fire alarm saga, and/or No fluke), so I didn't expect it to be a problem for me to hang out with Jennifer after work- I would just ride my bike back. No motorized vehicles necessary.

But then a fortunate accident occurred on Monday that changed the entire course of the week. I was on my way to my grandparents' after an awesome afternoon spent swimming with Jennifer. I had just made it up Provo College hill (without having to get off and walk up, thank you very much) when I heard someone call my name from inside the truck that had just pulled up next to me. It turned out to be Mark, a boy from my Alta ward who moved in the same time Jennifer did. Not only were we in the same ward, but he usually watched the BYU devotional with us and participated in the potluck lunch, so we're friends.

"Jessica! Where are you going? Do you want a ride?"

I considered. I didn't want to impose on him and I knew I could make it back to my grandparents' fine, but really, how often does an opportunity like that come around? Why not take him up on it just this once?

And so I replied:

"Hey, Mark! I didn't know you had a truck. Sure, I'd love a ride."

"That was some hill you rode up," Mark said after I'd loaded my bike into the bed of his truck and climbed into the cab.

"Yeah," I said not too modestly. "What are you doing up here?"

"I'm taking something to my sister. She lives around here," Mark said. "I hope you don't mind if I stop there really fast. Where are you going?"

I told him about moving to my grandparents' and that I had just been visiting Jennifer and we talked about our summer plans a little, like how he was taking spring semester and I was moving home to work and Jennifer was working in Provo, and about fall and winter and how I was returning to Alta for those semesters. We got to my grandparents' soon after he stopped at his sister's and Mark unloaded my bike for me. I said thank you and he said goodbye, and the next thing I knew I was relaxing on the sofa in my grandparents' house.

The next day, I again rode to Alta after work and hung out with Jennifer, but this time when 4:30 rolled around I didn't really feel like riding home. Plus Jen was coming home with me to work on our Bleach poster and play Rummikub with my grandma. I told Jennifer about how Mark had a truck and we decided to call him- maybe we'd get lucky and he'd be feeling charitable two days in a row.

Either he was feeling charitable, lonely, or it was our promise of a milkshake that won him over, because it didn't take much convincing before Mark appeared at the door.

Long story short, the next day (Wednesday) was the only day I rode my bike all the way home from Jennifer's (and formerly my) apartment. Mark also ended up driving me home on Thursday, and Friday my family left me with a car to drive after we attended Graig's UVU graduation. (He earned his associate's degree.)

An important note for life: it's always useful to have someone in your pool of friends with a truck. Hooray for Mark!