Candles and music have to be the most romantic things to have on a date. Especially when it’s a picnic at night and there’s a soft breeze blowing through the trees around you, causing them to rustle and shiver in soft background noise.
I may have created the breeze and the music may have been loud and heavy, but still. The intention was there.
Noah has sensed how distracted I was and decided I needed to get away from the real world for a bit.
He’d set up a blanket for us, a ways into the small forest just off campus. He’d lit about twenty candles, making the small clearing we were in glow. It wasn’t quite sunset but it was still getting dark. He’d brought his portable stereo and a Defeater CD, which happened to be one of my favorites. It may not have been slow music but it was still incredibly romantic that he had brought music I liked.
He’d made us some sandwiches and brought chips and Root Beer. We ate first, not talking much, both figuring we could do that after. I was grateful; my stomach was grumbling so loudly I almost mistook it for an earthquake.
“How’s class?” Noah asked after the dinner was done.
I chuckled, a bit rueful. “Hard, but it’s fine. I’m not really that busy with work, yet.”
He laughed, too. “Are you going to school to be a children’s counselor or a school counselor or something?”
“I haven’t decided yet. I’ll either be a high school counselor or a criminal psychiatrist.”
“Criminal Psychiatrist?” He asked, his eyebrows pushing together in a cute expression.
“They work in prisons or try to determine motives for murders and things.” I explained. “Personally, I’d like to be a counselor in a prison.”
He made a disgruntled expression. “Why? That’d be dangerous.”
“Just because someone commits a crime, doesn’t mean they don’t deserve help. I’d be there to talk to and help them move on, to understand that what they did was wrong. Besides, I imagine prison can be a stressful place and lots of people get rid of stress by talking to counselors.”
He snorted “Stressful. Right.”
“What about you? What do you want to do?”
He shrugged. “I’ll let you know when I figure it out.
"You don’t know?” He struck me as the kind of guy to do carpentry or some other manly job.
He shook his head. “I’m thinking about maybe teaching Liberal Arts. Until I figure it out, I’m just taking classes that I would with any degree.”
“High school teacher or college professor?”
He made a face. “College professor’s have to get their Doctoral Degree and they have to have publish works. It’s too much work.”
I laughed, unsurprised by his answer.
“If I do criminal psychiatry, I’ve got to go to Medical School.” I groaned at the thought of it. I wanted to do it but that much college didn’t exactly make me overly excited.
We were quiet for a few minutes, just thinking and staring off into space “What was your high school like?”
I shrugged. “Big, boring. I didn’t have any friends that attended with me and I barely spoke.
“You had no friends?” He looked shocked.
I couldn’t help but laugh. “I had one close friend and another four that we hung out with but none of them went to my school.” I told him, thinking back to those times.
YOU ARE READING
White Washed
ParanormalAmelie Maddox was sick of living in New York City. She'd grown up there and she wanted out. When she moves away to go to college, she expects to start a new, happier life. But that's not quite how it happens. Amelie discovers she can do some things...
