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I twist the handle and push the door open to find a young woman staring back at me through thick rimmed glasses. Her hair is down, and without the expensive skirt suit she wears she’d look like a younger, more chilled out version of my mom. “Hey, umm … sorry. I didn’t know I had an appointment that I was supposed to attend.”
“That’s perfectly fine, Oceania,” she says, waving me through. “Please, take a seat. We have a lot to cover.”
“A lot to cover?” I question, somehow managing to hide my groan. “Like what?”
“Like your future.”
“Future?” I say with a sharp, barking laugh. “What future?”
Miss Davies has the nerve to look offended and honestly, I don’t think she has the right. She mustn’t know who she’s dealing with if she thinks a girl like me is about to have some big respectable future.
Her eyes narrow on me and it’s as though she’s trying to work me out. I wait a moment, suffering through her silence before she sits back in her chair, apparently having exactly what she needs. Though if she knows something I don’t, it’d be great if she could share it around.
“Tell me, Oceania. Why does the idea of a future scare you?”
My brows instantly pinch together. Scare me? What the hell is she talking about? I was expecting a lot of things to come flying out of her mouth but that certainly wasn’t one of them. “It’s just Ocean,” I clarify.
Her lips pull into a small smile. “Ocean,” she repeats, leaning forward and adjusting my name in her schedule. “I like it. It’s very original. Now let’s get back to the question, shall we?”
I shake my head. “You’ve got me all wrong. I’m not scared of my future.”
“No?”
“No. You can’t be scared of something that you’re never going to have.” Her brow shoots up and as she silently leans back in her chair, I feel her waiting for an explanation. Realizing that I’m not going to get out of here until we’re through, I give her my hard truth, knowing damn well that hiding it has never gotten me anywhere before.
“Did you look me up?” I question, watching as she gives me a small nod. “Then you know that I’m from Breakers Flats, and the kids there … they’re not exactly taught to dream big. The majority of my class won’t graduate and will be either killed by the time they’re thirty or jumped into a gang, and those of us who do graduate might get a job working at the grocery store. That is until the banks lock the doors and we’re left selling ourselves just to get by. People like me, we’re not taught to dream for a future because it’s hard enough just getting through each day. Dreaming is for those who like disappointment. We’re taught to survive.”
Miss Davies studies me, keeping her eyes trained on mine as she puts to use that degree that’s framed up on her wall. “You know what I see?”
“Here we go. Another qualified person here to tell me what’s best for me when they don’t know anything about my life or growing up like I did.”
“Oh really? You’re so quick to judge but what would you say if you found out that I grew up in Blaxlands Grove and only just escaped gang life after my brother got jumped in? I worked my ass off, graduated high school, and by some miracle was accepted into college? What would you say then?”
My eyes bug out of my head, I would say her brother is most likely a Wolf. “You grew up in Blaxlands Grove?” I question, not sure if I should be wary of the girl who comes from the rival town of Breakers Flats, home of the West Side Wolves.
“I did,” she says. “I made a life for myself. I broke ties with the people from back home who were holding me back and I built a future for myself. I went to college, graduated, and got myself a job. I had to start small but I worked my way up, and now I own my own home and don’t need a man to help provide it for me. You can do that too, Ocean. You just have to believe in yourself.”
“You say it like it’s easy.”
“It’s not,” she says bluntly. “Making it to my high school graduation was a feat on its own, and then to get myself through college while not succumbing to my family who wanted me home was the hardest thing I ever did.”
“Then you’re the one in a million. It’s not going to happen for me so you shouldn’t bother wasting your time.”
“I think you’re wrong,” she tells me. “I’ve been going over your grades and reports, and while the reports are a little rough, the grades aren’t so bad. You’ve already taken the first step by distancing yourself from Breakers Flats. All you need to do is focus on your grades and I don’t see any reason why you won’t be able to attend college.”
