Begin Again(7)

“So what do you think?” Shay asks.

We’ve reached the edge of the quad now, and I’m half distracted by the small crowd of students gathering on the grass near the open concrete stage. “Of the show?”

When I look back over, Shay’s wearing a smirk I can’t read for the life of me. “Yeah. And of this year’s Knight,” she says.

I flush and hope against hope that she won’t notice. By “this year’s Knight” she means the anonymous student hosting The Knights’ Watch, who gets rotated out every time their predecessor graduates. They all usually have some kind of schtick, but their role is mostly to give updates on whatever is happening on campus, including every spring semester when they’re tasked with releasing the locations and times for the scavenger-hunt tasks—freshmen show up, complete some kind of task, and are given either a yellow, red, or blue ribbon. Each of the ribbons represents a different secret society, and if you have enough of one of the colors at the end of the semester, you have the option of joining the society of that color.

Trouble is, nobody’s sure just how many is enough to qualify. Hence the scramble to get as many ribbons as you can, and why anyone participating hangs on the Knight’s every word.

“I think he’s phenomenal,” I say quickly, willing my face to un-heat itself. “The one before him was great too, but the new guy is just hilarious. I can’t listen in public anymore because I keep laughing out loud.”

Shay tilts her head at me. “Wait, you were listening even when you didn’t go here?”

I let out a nervous laugh. “You might have caught on to the fact that I’m a little bit of an over-preparer.”

“Well, at least you’ll fit right in here,” says Shay, eyes sweeping over the campus. “Can’t take a step without running into a fellow nerd.”

I cling to the words like a lifeline. In that case, maybe connecting with people here will be easier than I think. Maybe I’ll even feel comfortable enough to launch some kind of advice column here without hiding behind a fake name to do it.

But while it’s true that I am an over-preparer in every sense of the word, that has nothing to do with my Knights’ Watch obsession. Or the fact that I not only know about the last Knight, but the one before that and the one before that, all the way back to the very first broadcast of the show, some thirty years ago.

See, my mom’s the one who started it all. The original Knight.





Chapter Four


You know how when you hear the premise of Footloose for the first time and you’re like, “Wow, a bunch of adults seriously banned kids from dancing? That’s ridiculous.” But that’s also kind of like Blue Ridge State in the nineties, because apparently they flat-out banned new student organizations from forming. They said there simply weren’t enough professors to act as supervisors, but according to my mom, a loudmouth journalism major with an uncanny knack for uncovering secrets, it was because the current school president was misusing alumni funds that were meant to go toward student-driven programming. And apparently she said so—right on the air of the school’s radio show that she was hosting at the time.

Somewhat unsurprisingly, she was fired from her role ten minutes later. But instead of backing down, she banded together with some friends, figured out how to get back on the air using an underground channel, and started The Knights’ Watch—a radio show reporting on what students needed to know, but the school didn’t necessarily want them to know.

Over the years it’s evolved into what it is today—less of a rebellion and more of an alternative news source on campus. It’s not part of our broadcast major, so it’s not necessarily school-sanctioned, but school-tolerated. Each of the Knights is known for being outspoken and often critical of goings-on on campus. The current Knight goes on rants about the cost of tuition and the lack of decent work-study opportunities so often that I can’t say I’m not nervous about trying to find one. But different Knights have all had their own things—one was a budding comedian, another was super into discovering local bands.

My mom’s “thing” as the Knight was the first-ever Knights’ Tour. The school had banned new organizations, but not events. So when a group of students came up with the idea to go behind the school’s back and start new organizations on campus, and wanted to throw the administration off with scavenger hunts to access information about them, my mom gave them a platform. She would announce the day of where people were supposed to meet off campus. Then she’d go and participate in the ribbon hunts herself.

That’s why the ribbons always had a certain lore. My mom laid hers out on her dresser right alongside all the family photos. She had enough to qualify for any of the societies, but every time I asked her which society she ended up in, she’d tap me on the nose and say it was a secret. That I’d find out when I was older.

Turns out, as a nod to the secrecy of the organizations when they first started up, it’s tradition for members not to reveal themselves unless you qualify first. It’s part of the reason why I was so determined to get in right now instead of waiting the year out—second semester freshman year is the only chance to participate. After all these years, I might finally get to know which society she was in, and what it meant to her. What it could mean to me.

That is, only if I collect enough ribbons for all three.