"Alright, that is all. Do your assignment, eat your vegetables, and have a lovely winter break."
The incredibly small class at Jennings Community College cleared out of the room as quickly as they could. The only person remaining, apart from the professor, was someone who was never in a rush to leave school: Brooke Worthington. All her classmates were always so frantic to do whatever they needed to do after class, when in retrospect, it was much easier to take it slow.
Although she did not understand it, Brooke did not mind that everyone always rushed off. She had never fit in with her class, and always seemed to be doing the opposite of what they were doing. It was not that they did not include her; it was more that she chose not to be included. Her young independence had brought that state of mind within her, whether for the best or not.
She was even slower that day, for it being the last day of the semester, she wanted a chance to talk to her professor. When the last of her books were placed gently in her messenger bag, she waited patiently in front of the man's desk, as he organized his belongings.
He hummed to let Brooke know that he saw her, and took off his rectangular glasses. He took a seat in the chair behind his desk, and looked up at her, with his head rested in his folded hands.
"What can I do for you, Miss Worthington?" he asked in a syrupy sweet voice; the one thing that Brooke did not like about him.
His hair was dark with a hint of silver. It was swept over in an outdated fashion to match his retro bow tie. With a large square face, and short stature, his whole appearance was unique. His name, Jim Ramsey, was written on a plate on top of his desk, which he began to polish as Brooke spoke.
"Well, Professor," she began, fiddling nervously with her pencil, "I wanted to discuss the matter of my major with you, if you please."
"Ah, yes," said Professor Ramsey, his small dark eyes looking up at Brooke knowingly, and almost urging her to continue.
"You see," Brooke went on, "I'm not exactly sure, but I think I would like to major in business."
The small professor shook his head thoughtfully. "No, no, no, dear," he said articulately. "When choosing a major, one must be positively certain. There is no 'think' or 'would like to' or 'not exactly sure.' Now tell me, Miss Worthington. Why is it that you wish to pursue business?"
Brooke blushed at her previous choice of words, and thought a moment before speaking, so as not to mess up again. "I believe business would be a suitable career choice for me, given the qualities I possess, Professor."
The professor nodded, and murmured something. "And, pray tell, what qualities are those?"
Brooke had been praying that he would not ask, but as she thought about it, she had completely set him up to ask that question.
"Um," she hesitated, and cleared her throat. "Ambition, independence, understanding, communication-"
"Wait one moment," Professor Ramsey interrupted, putting a hand in the air to silence her. "Ambition you say?"
Brooke nodded timidly, and gripped her pencil tighter in her hand.
"Interesting," he commented, as he thought deeply to himself. "Ambition was, in fact, the first quality you mentioned.... Interesting, very interesting."
"Pardon me, sir," said Brooke, feeling slightly out of the loop, "but what is 'interesting'?"
"What I find interesting," said Professor Ramsey, speaking the loudest he had spoken throughout the conversation, "is that you are the least ambitious person I know."
She gulped; her lip trembled as she tried to speak, but couldn't. There was a lump in her throat, and her head began to ache in aggravation.
"I- I am?" she managed to get out, and quickly put her hand to her throat to massage the pain.
"Quite certainly," said the professor, tapping his stubby fingers upon the wooden desk.
As someone who Brooke nearly admired, it was weakening to hear what he said. She had always considered herself ambitious, and it was the first time anyone had ever disagreed, at least to her knowledge. She had dreams, and plans, she thought. How could he know her qualities?
"I say this because I know it is true," he said simply. "You have never showed signs of ambition. I believe you were spot on about the independent part, for you are very alone. You never speak with the other students; you seem to be trapped inside of your own little world, but in your world, you never think about the future. You came here to me today because you wanted me to tell you what you should do with your life; not to tell me what you were going to do with your life. Although you are independent, you fail to make decisions regarding your future. Most people decide early on what they want to pursue. I am not saying that all do, for it is also common amongst to not decide until later on in their college education. What I am saying, is that they are at least trying to find that dream of theirs. 'What do I like?' 'What am I good at?' 'What do I see myself doing for the rest of my life?'- These are all questions they ask themselves, and I'm afraid to say you haven't done that.
"Ask yourself those questions, Miss Worthington. Figure it out for yourself. I believe that you can figure out what it is that you really want, without having it spoon fed to you. It's time for you to realize when to be dependent, and when to be independent."
She paused, as the words processed in her mind. Was it true? Did she have no dreams or ambitions? The thought had never crossed her mind, but yet it seemed to be entirely accurate the more she thought on it.
"I will try, sir," she said quietly, trying to express as much sincerity in her voice as she could.
"Good day, Miss Worthington," said Professor Ramsey, resuming the collecting of his belongings. Brooke nodded, and left the classroom without looking where she was going.
Almost as soon as she had stepped out of the room, she walked straight into someone.
"We always seem to be...running into each other, don't we?" Andrew smirked, as she stepped back, annoyed at her own carelessness.
"This would be probably the second time," said Brooke, with neutral expression, "but if that's your definition of 'always' then yes, I suppose we are always running into each other."
Andrew laughed, but Brooke did not see what was so funny. She retained her neutrality, as Andrew's laugh settled into a smirk.
"Why do you see to be annoyed with me?" the man inquired, noticing her emotions. "I thought we left on good terms the last time we spoke."
"I'd forgotten," Brooke admitted. "It was quite a while ago."
"Only a month, but I guess it goes faster for an old man like me," said Andrew, shrugging, and smiling good-naturedly.
Brooke cracked a small smile. "Twenty-six isn't old," she said.
"Twenty-seven actually, nearly twenty-eight," said Andrew, inwardly glowing at what Brooke had said.
"Oh, right, I knew that," said Brooke in remembrance. "Sometimes I forget I'm not sixteen anymore."
Andrew nodded as he put his hands in his pockets. "I know what you mean."
"Yeah," said Brooke slowly. "Not to be rude or anything, but what are you doing here?"
"Oh, yeah, I guess it's strange to be seeing me here," said Andrew, smiling nervously. "Well, I'm going to talk to old Ramsey about taking some classes next semester. I think I told you I want to get my education back in swing?"
"Yeah, you did," said Brooke.
"Yeah," said Andrew, rocking back and forth on his feet, "well, I am."
"Yeah," said Brooke, before laughing out loud. "Sorry, I didn't mean to keep the 'yeah' trend going."
The two did not know why they were so nervous around each other. Andrew had known her since she was born; he had been nine years old. The feelings he felt had been pushed aside for the longest time. He had had to keep reminding himself that she was Bradley's sister. Besides, he was too old for her, and if he thought he had any sort of chance with her, he was sadly mistaken.
"Hey," said Brooke, scratching her head. "This is just...something general to ask you. I was wondering if maybe you wanted to come to- well you see, the high school is performing-"
"Little Women," said Andrew, rescuing Brooke from her endless ramble. "I heard. Is that tonight?"
"Tomorrow night. Brianna is playing Amy," said Brooke, in a much more collected state of mind.
Andrew smiled. "If that's an invitation, I won't miss it."
"Good," said Brooke, her eyebrows raised in an almost haughty fashion. "I suppose I will see you then."
"I suppose you will," said Andrew mystifyingly. He held out his hand, which Brooke firmly shook. "Good day, Miss Worthington," he said.
"Oh my word, please don't ever say that again," said Brooke, trying not to laugh. "You sounded just like Professor Ramsey."
Andrew scrunched up his nose and slouched his stature. "Miss Worthington," he spoke, in a voice uncannily similar to Professor Ramsey's, "Do your assignment, eat your vegetables, and have a lovely evening."
"Yes, sir," said Brooke, covering her mouth with her hands to control her laughing. Maybe Andrew was trying too hard to be funny, but she appreciated someone making some sort of effort to do something. As the year was ending, it seemed that every person was decaying; no one ever made an endeavor to make anyone happy.
"Speak of the devil, I need to talk to the bloke," said Andrew, returning to his usual voice. "I'll see you tomorrow night, I suppose."
"Alright," said Brooke, with a certain radiance about her; a radiance that only chose to shine when it was sincere. "Good luck with Ramsey."
"Thanks," said Andrew, walking backwards to the professor's classroom. He knocked on the door, and entered a moment later, leaving Brooke alone in the hallway.
She stared at the classroom door for a moment, but quickly snapped out of her almost trance, and took off down the hallway. She hated herself for being affected by his allure, but when feeling alone, she would take a little love from anyone offering it.