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“The next time I see you, I’d like for you all to have an idea for your paper. Come to me for final approval before you leave class Wednesday.”
When the professor dismissed us, I calmly made my way down the steps to his desk.
“Professor Taylor?” I asked, my voice soft and hesitant.
He looked up, pushing his glasses up his nose. “Yes, Ms. O’Connor?”
I rocked back on my heels, clasping my books tightly in my hands. “I already know what I want to write about.” My fingers nervously tapped against the books in my hands.
“Alright,” he steepled his fingers, “what is it?”
I swallowed thickly, praying to the journalism gods that he approved of what I wanted to do. I was already getting exciting about it. “I have a friend here who’s studying to be a nurse, I thought maybe I could shadow her and learn more about the process of going into the medical field. I want it to be more than a question and answer session. I want to delve into all the hard work these students go through to become our health care providers.” With a sigh, I waited patiently for him to think it over.
He nodded slowly, mulling it over. “It sounds interesting. Go for it.”
My eyes widened in surprise. I couldn’t believe he’d agreed so readily. I’d been preparing a speech in my head to argue my case.
“Thank you!” I exclaimed. Sobering, I said in a calmer tone, “Thank you so much. I’m really excited about this.”
He chuckled. “Ms. O’Connor, I think you’re always my most excited journalism major. It’s refreshing. It reminds me why I wanted to do this job in the first place.”
“Thank you again,” I told him, resisting the urge to hug him, because that would be majorly awkward. Before he could change his mind, I jogged up the steps and out the door.
I headed across campus to the cafeteria. It was a crisp March afternoon. Some days were down right freezing, while some held the promise of spring. I let the small amount of sun filtering between the tree branches warm my face. I smiled, my blonde hair swaying around my shoulders. I couldn’t believe that in a few short months I’d be graduating. It didn’t seem real. Once college was over, it was time for real life. While I was mostly excited, there was a small part of me that was terrified. I’d never liked the unknown.
Once in the cafeteria I got my food and sat down at the usual table I shared with my best friend Rowan…and sometimes Jude. God, I hated that guy with every fiber of my being. Unfortunately, he was also friends with Rowan, which meant I was kind of stuck with him.
Rowan took the seat across from me, dropping he
r bag on the floor. With a heavy sigh she poured dressing on her salad and used a fork to swirl the leafy pieces around the bowl. “I’m so tired,” she propped her head on one hand and took a bite of her salad. “Between classes, and wedding planning, on top of the kids, I’m beat.”
I frowned. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s my own fault,” she huffed, pulling her long light brown hair into a ponytail. “I should’ve told Trent that I wanted to wait longer to get married. But he was adamant on not waiting more than a year.” She scrubbed a hand over her eyes. “At least he’s been helpful, but there’s only so much a guy can do when it comes to wedding planning,” she rolled her eyes.
With a clatter Jude dropped his backpack on the table. I glared up at him. “Can you not put your stuff down gently like a normal person?” I asked him.
“No.” He grinned, backing away to go get his food. Everything Jude did got on my nerves. It was like he had a special talent for irritating me.
Rowan and I fell into silence. I itched to ask her if she’d help me with my project, but I wasn’t sure if I should in her current mood.
Jude finally joined us again and I couldn’t stand it any more.
“Row?” I cleared my throat.
“Yeah?” She looked up, wiping a piece of lettuce from her lip.
I explained my paper and what I wanted to do. Her face fell.
“Oh, Tate, I wish I could help you but I’m far too busy.” She frowned, looking at me sadly.
I groaned. “But I already got my paper approved! Come on! I won’t be in your way!” I begged, desperation overtaking my tone.
“I can’t, Tate. Not with all I have on my plate. I’m really sorry.” I knew she was, but it didn’t make me feel any better.
I buried my head in my hands. Great, now I had to start from scratch.
“You can shadow me.”
