T W E N T Y

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I'm twenty years old and I really don't know what I should be majoring in.

Quinn thinks I should be trying to become a doctor. I've always had amazing grades. I didn't have friends for the longest time and when I did have some, I never really had that many, so studying was really all I had to do. She says I could try to cure cancer.

But I don't think I should become a doctor. I don't think I have it in me. And I think I would be jumping too late in the bandwagon if I tried to be one. It just doesn't feel right.

Claire calls me one day to know how I'm doing and I tell her about not knowing what to do.

"You should become a cop. Or something to do with criminology. Take a criminology class. See if you like it," she tells me.

"Why?"

"Don't you remember? When you were younger? You were always going after the other kids in the neighbourhood that were tormenting Mrs Brown's poodle and when they would try to hurt insects or frogs, or mouse, or other kids too. You'd always tell their parents."

"I don't remember that."

"Of course, because it was like a second nature with you. You ever wondered why none of the neighbours wanted to be your friend?"

"I thought it was because I was too small."

"Nah, it was because you were a little snitch."

I don't really remember that, but I try the criminology class anyway.

I love it.

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