What We Take Away

Chapter 14 | Aram

She sits back into her chair and clasps her manicured hands together on her desk.

"Assuming you register for winter session, and with your continued class load, you should be all set to graduate, Aram! How do you feel? Isn't it surreal?" she beams.

I plaster a smile onto my face even though I feel robotic and stupid.

"Yeah," I lie. "It's surreal."

Kellie sighs dreamily.

"I remember it like yesterday," she smiles fondly. "There was something magical about sitting there in the Crow Sports Center with my best friends in the entire world, each of us wearing our caps and gowns and stoles. We cheered our hearts out as we took turns to walk up and receive our awards and certificates. That moment alone made all four years of hard work and lessons learned worth it."

I nod glumly, not wanting to ruin her reminiscing. I endured nearly four years of suck at this miserable institution without so much as a real friend. At least Mal's here – he's probably the closest friend I've had all college, and he just came back.

"Look at me, getting all emotional," she titters. "Anyway... please reach out anytime if you need to, Aram. It may be your senior year, but this year can be full of surprises in some ways. I'm rooting for you!"

"Thanks," I mumble as I get up and leave.

Kellie's phone rings and she answers it. I hear her bell-like laugh as she begins to talk to whoever's on the other line as I slip out of her office and down the stairs. Stepping onto the first-floor landing of Cooper Student Center, I let out a long sigh.

That was a total waste of my time. Why did I even bother to go to that stupid career counseling appointment?

Kellie makes the whole affair of graduating and figuring out your life seem as simple as cereal. Maybe people like her are just born knowing their gifts and strengths and just have it easier in life. People like me struggle to be good at anything – even just trying to connect with another person is nothing short of a daily struggle.

You're pathetic. A waste of life.

Right on cue, my demons come out to play.

"Nothing I haven't heard before," I chuckle out loud.

A few sorority girls walking by give me strange looks when they overhear me conversing with myself. They scurry away quickly with their heads huddled together, avoiding eye contact with me. I ignore them and grip the straps of my backpack as I walk into the café in Cooper's, where Mal is waiting for me.

"How did it go?" he grins, springing to his feet.

"It was tragic," I say dully, turning towards the exit.

"Aw, it couldn't have been that bad."

A few girls turn their heads at us as Mal follows me out the door.

"I can't believe career counselors get paid to tell people what to do with their lives," I fume as we step outside. "She wasn't even helpful. How do I get that job? I want to be the person calling the shots about what other people can and can't do!"

"What did she say?" Mal asks as we cross Fiore Street.

I roll my eyes and throw up my hands. "Nothing I haven't already heard before. She said I should consider graduate school. Like I'd want to waste any more of my years being a slave to some institution—"

"That's not a bad idea," Mal says. "I'm thinking about graduate school."

I stare at him with bewilderment. "But you just GOT here! You're technically a freshman! Why are you of all people thinking suddenly about graduate school?"