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I've only completed two out of four final exams, and I'm already beat. As I make it inside the dorm suite, I realize I have a decision to make. Either stay up for a few more hours to study for tomorrow's exam, or get some much needed sleep.
"Good you're finally home," Hazel calls from her room.
I groan inwardly and toss my book bag on the couch. As much as I love our friendship, I was so looking forward to relaxing.
"I feel like we haven't spent time together in ages," she continues, stepping out into the living room.
"We live together," I remind her with a dry laugh.
"And yet we never see each other," She retorts with a playful scowl. "Between the holiday break, finals, and each of us now having boyfriends...I just miss our girl nights. Ya know?"
I let out a soft defeated sigh. Hazel is right. After this week we won't see each other for another two or three weeks until the next semester, and we haven't had girl time in ages.
"Should I break out the box wine?"
She grins back at me happily. "Hells yes! Can we do facials too?"
I nod, returning her smile as I go to the kitchenette area to grab two glasses and the wine. We usually have a small stock kept up of drinks that Mia's boyfriend buys for us since he's twenty-one, whether it be cheap box wine, vodka, wine coolers, etc.
Hazel waits for me on the couch with a small mirror already on the coffee table as she sorts through different peel masks.
Ten minutes later we're both sporting plush headbands to keep our hair back and pastel green faces as we wait for our masks to dry. Hazel gingerly sips her wine, leaning back against the throw pillows as she turns on the TV. We decide on a show with an overly dramatic portrayal of a group of foul-mouthed women.
"So you and Alex are a thing now, hey?" Hazel asks. Her tone is light, but I've known her long enough to tell when she's fishing for information.
I pluck a piece of cucumber off of a paper plate and pop it into my mouth, making her sweat it out while I take my time chewing. "Yeah, I guess," I finally reply.
"That's not the answer of someone who just spent a holiday already meeting their boyfriend's parents," she mutters. "Come on babe, give me the juicy details."
I roll my eyes, taking a deep gulp from my glass of white wine, and then launch into an explanation of my trip with Alex. I tell Hazel about playing pool with his family, how crazy-beautiful their cabin and property are, how sweet Martha was, and Hazel eats up every word that leaves my lips.
When I'm finished talking, she shoots me a quizzical look.
"What?" I ask, feeling self-conscious under her probing stare.
"His parents let you sleep in the same bed, right?"
I nod warily.
"And nothing happened?" She shakes her head at me and clicks her tongue.
"O-of course not," I stutter, nearly choking on my drink. "His family was right downstairs the entire time."
Her eyes narrow in a way that makes it clear to me that that doesn't matter to her, and an impish smirk twists lips. "Still a virgin?"
My face heats, burning twice as hot with the pore-opening mask still covering my skin. "As a matter of fact I am, thank you very much."
"I figured. Are you trying to make him wait it out?" There's no malice in her tone, only curiosity.
"No," I answer thoughtfully. "It's not like I'm scared to lose my virginity or anything. I don't think it's really a big deal, at least not for me."
It's the truth. I would never judge or make fun of someone who was in my shoes, still a virgin at freshly twenty, if it was their choice to wait. For some people, they consider it something sacred, but it's not for me. Though I have no doubt in my mind that having sex with Alex would be "special" so to speak, I just don't think we've had enough time actually alone together to feel out the situation.
"Some girls are like that," Hazel says in agreement. "But its a big deal for me, as your roommate and current best friend, that you tell me all the sexy deets once it happens."
She even has the nerve to wink as she speaks. Good Lord.
Thankfully the timer on Hazel's phone goes off before I'm roped into promising anything, alerting us that it's time to rip off our masks. She silences it and we get to work, laughing at each other as we wince and cry out as we peel off the product—and a few layers of skin—from our faces.
A few hours later, Hazel and I head to bed, both pleasantly buzzed off wine and good conversation. But when I wake up the next morning, my head feels anything but pleasant. It takes a hot shower, two Advil, and three shots of espresso before I feel even slightly normal.
Dressed in sweats and a parka, I trudge across the frozen wasteland that has become Denver University's landscape to my English class with my finals project in tow.
✖️✖️✖️
Alexander,
There is something very important we need to discuss regarding next fall's semester. Please stop by my office sometime during my afternoon hours between 1pm and 5pm.
Sincerely,
Micah Nelson
Earth Science Professor
Denver University
I reread the email from my phone several times as I wait in the hallway. It's currently two-thirty in the afternoon, and my advisor is definitely not in his office like he said he would be. There's no hint in the email as to what he could be referring to, and it causes a nervous feeling to twist in my gut.
Why can't people just be upfront? I wonder with a heavy sigh.
I tuck my phone back in my pocket, deciding to wait another ten minutes before giving up. If he doesn't show, it's not my fault, right?
Other students rush past me while I stay tucked against the wall. Some are laughing, some look white as a sheet from completing their exams, everyone is in their own world.
"I'm coming...so sorry...don't go anywhere," a voice calls from the opposite end of the hall.
I turn to find Nelson running awkwardly, completely out of breath, as he jingles a set of keys in my direction. He's rather short and lanky and gives off a "nerd" vibe in his appearance. Completely a stereotypical science teacher. Thick rimmed glasses, a blue and white plaid dress shirt with a black tie sporting the solar system, and dark brown slacks. His dress shoes slap against the salt covered floor as he shuffles quickly down the hall to me. He looks young, but that could be because of his tendency to always appear clean-shaven. Not a trace of stubble lines his smooth jaw.
"I'm so glad I caught you," he says in relief.
You wouldn't have if you hadn't shown up in another ten minutes, I want to say, but I bite down hard on my tongue.
Nelson opens up the door and gestures for me to follow him inside. I comply, keeping my hands buried deep in my pockets as I step across the threshold.
It's a small space. Or rather it feels that way with the amount of clutter I find. Several shelves line the walls, holding different books and trinkets. A metal desk is in the center of the room with an array of papers scattered across its full surface. There's a globe off to one side that shows the different layers of the Earth, straight down to the core.
I take seat in one of the chairs while Nelson sits in his computer chair. He fires up the laptop and leans back while waiting for it to load.
"So the reason I called you in here is to discuss your plans for your future," he begins, lacing his fingers together on the desk. "You're going into Earth Science Secondary Education, correct?"
"It's been my major since day one," I agree with a nod.
Nelson purses his lips in thought as he begins typing on the computer. When he finishes, he turns the screen to me. "You've completed most of the science related requirements for your degree."
"But?" I prompt, fighting a scowl.
"But," he continues, "this upcoming fall semester you have a decision to make. You have taken and excelled in the basic education requirements, but you'll need to complete a student teaching course. That's going to take up time. You'll be observing and then teaching so you'll have to come up with lesson plans, assist in grading, etc."
I know where this is going.
"This is about me being in hockey, isn't it?"
He nods once, his eyes downcast. I feel bad for him honestly. As pissed as it makes me, this can't be easy for him. When he took the job as a professor of earth sciences, telling students possibly only ten years younger than him that they have to choose between a sport they love and teaching probably wasn't what he expected.
"You can drop the major in secondary education," he says lightly. "Just focus on the science aspect."
"I was going to make captain next year," I mutter. "I'm only attending DU because I have a full ride to play hockey."
"Your grades are high enough to get academic achievement scholarships, Alex. If you want to teach—"
"Of course I want to teach," I bite out, and I instantly regret the harshness of my tone.
Nelson's eyebrows shoot up and he flinches back. After a beat, he clears his throat quietly in an attempt to mask his reaction.
"I...I never thought I was going to have to choose between the two." I drag a hand through my hair, running it down the back of my neck.
"You don't have to make a decision now, Alex," Nelson murmurs. "Why don't you take the break to think about it? We'll meet again the beginning of next semester and you can tell me what you've decided."
I nod along absentmindedly, not really hearing what he's saying. Teaching has been my dream since I was nine, and I'm so fucking close to achieving it. But Tyler, Luke, Coach, and the rest of the team are depending on me. I've never had an interest in going pro like a lot of my teammates, but that doesn't mean hockey isn't important to me. It doesn't mean that the friends I've made by playing a sport I love aren't important to me.
How the hell can I be expected to choose?
"Do you want me to print you out some paperwork on the breakdown of different majors?" He asks.
I raise my head to look at him to find he's staring back at me with sympathy. Behind his glasses his eyes are gentle, but there's just enough pity in them that it makes my blood start to boil.
"I can just look online," I spit back bitterly.
He nods in understanding as I get to my feet.
"I'll email you to set up our next meeting," I call to him from over my shoulder as I make a beeline for the door.
The room has suddenly become too hot. Too tiny. It's suffocating. My lungs are threatening to collapse, burning as I struggle to suck in enough oxygen. I rush out of the office and down the hall, throwing open a heavy set of doors and stepping out into the unforgiving cold.
What the hell am I supposed to do now? I ask myself, hanging my head as I make my way to the parking area.
My mother had been overjoyed when I started college to hear that I planned to follow in her footsteps with teaching. Because of her I know how fulfilling the career can be, and I know that it'll be a job I'll love.
I climb inside my truck, and a comforting wave of a peachy scent floods my senses. Mabel.
The upholstery still smells of her from our trip to Aspen for thanksgiving, and I welcome it. There's something calming and serene about the smell, but I'm craving more. I want to wrap my arms around her and bury myself in everything that is Mabel, and I'd be lying through my teeth if I said that that didn't scare the absolute shit out of me.
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Poor Alex, it's never good when everything seems to be heading for the shitter...
So I actually have something important to add here for you guys for once. Turns out I should've done more research on Denver University because APPARENTLY they don't offer a bachelors degree in secondary education like Alex is going for. Only a master's degree.
So either I'm just going to continue writing and ignore that fact, or at some point I'm going to have to change the location. This is a work of fiction though, so maybe we can just pretend that they offer it 🙄🙄🙄
As always, make sure you vote/comment/add this story to your reading list if you're enjoying BT!
Lots of love,
Kat