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“Twenty. I couldn’t afford anything other than community college, so that’s where I started, but eventually I transferred to USC on a scholarship. I graduated at the top of my class and went on to complete my MBA. Imagine what you can do starting even earlier.”
I thought back to my conversation with Manning about my interests and how he’d promised to get me books from the library. “I haven’t decided on a major yet. Do you think I should do business?”
“You don’t have to. You can be anything you want. Doctor, lawyer, accountant.”
“Mona wants to be a teacher.”
“The world needs teachers,” he said as we headed down the concrete path. “But we also need leaders. If you like working with children, like you do at camp, you could be a pediatrician. Then you get to spend all day doing something valuable. Saving lives.”
I couldn’t remember much about doctor’s offices, but my dentist was in a perpetually bad mood. “Wouldn’t that be sad, dealing with sick kids? What if I can’t make them better?”
“If you decide to go that route, there’re different paths you can take. You could be an obstetrician. Try being sad while delivering a baby.”
“How many years of school is that?”
“Probably eight, including undergrad, followed by a residency. I know it sounds like a lot, but you’re young. And you’re lucky, Lake. Your mom and I are willing to pay for all of it so you can come out debt-free at the end. College loans are a burden, and USC is at the top as far as tuition goes. You won’t have to struggle for years like I did to pay them off.”
Eight years and then some. I couldn’t fathom it. I’d be twenty-six or older when I graduated, which meant I still had over ten years left as a student. I’d spent my whole life hearing about USC, and how great college was—I couldn’t wait to be around other people who loved school and wanted to learn. But another decade sounded overwhelming.
“Look, there’s the College of Commerce and Business Administration,” Dad said, pointing as if I didn’t already know the sandstone-colored brick building with majestic arches. “I spent many hours there becoming the man I am today. Let’s go peek inside.”
On the lawn out front, a small group of students had arranged rubber mats into rows. They were dressed casually in shorts and tanks. A couple of them sat picking blades of grass. One read a book. None of them spoke to each other.
My dad held open a door, and we walked down the hall. He tried some handles. “Maybe there’s a summer school lecture we can sit in on.”
“What was your favorite class?”
“I don’t know if I had a favorite,” he said. “I enjoyed learning about strategy and operations. How to minimize costs and maximize profits.” He peered into a window on one of the doors before continuing on. “You know what I hated? Advanced statistics. It’s an important class, don’t get me wrong, but it was damn hard.”
My jaw nearly hit the floor. “You hated a class?”
“Of course I did. You think I enjoyed learning to calculate standard deviation or worrying about variance and outliers?” He looked over his shoulder, saw my expression and said, “Oh, Lake. You do think that, don’t you?”
The way he talked about college and what was ahead of me, I didn’t think there was anything he didn’t miss about it. “Kind of.”
He laughed. “I know you think I’m fanatical about this stuff, but I just want to give you opportunities. Do you think I work as hard as I do for any other reason than to take care of you girls?”
The truth was, I never really thought about it. I just assumed he worked all the time because he loved it. “I’m sorry, Dad. I didn’t realize . . . thank you.”
He chuckled, took my face, and kissed my forehead. “I’m not asking for a thank you. I’m just trying to explain that if I’m hard on you, it’s because I want the best for you. I’m proud of you, Lake. You have so much potential. I want to give you every chance to realize it.”
My throat thickened. I knew he was proud, but it felt good to hear him say it once in a while. “I will,” I said. I had no idea how, but I’d always been a good student, always put in the time to do better, and I didn’t see that changing anytime soon. “I promise.”
One of the locked doors opened, and a blonde woman who looked a little older than Tiffany leaned out. “Can I help you?”
Dad turned. “Oh. Sorry if we disturbed you. We were just checking things out.” He put his arm around my shoulder. “My daughter’s a prospective student.”
She smiled at me. “Welcome. Will you be applying to business school?”
