Page 54 of Unwritten Rules

She flipped out a tablet. “Name?”

“Fallon Montgomery.”

“Student key card?” Shestillhadn’t really given me proper eye contact.

I handed it over the counter and wondered what made her feel so lifeless at work. Would I turn into someone who didn’t even give someone a second glance? Or even a first? With how much respect my mother instilled in me, I also wondered if she embodied that at her company.

Sarah, or so it said on her name tag, pointed to a door as she went back to scrolling on her phone.

The hallway was thin and long, holding office after office. It felt too much like a conveyer belt in here, transporting the students from idealistic young adults to whatever got spat out on the other end. My room came up when I saw the sign for my advisor.

“What can I help you with today, Miss Montgomery?” At least there was a smile on the other side of the door.

I itched my arm and fidgeted with my bracelet. “I’m here to see about changing my major.”

Before my ass hit the seat, she was quickly typing up a storm and had a few sheets of paper printed out and displayed across her desk. At least she was efficient. “Before you do, let’s go over sophomore requirements for your undergrad in the first two years. You did more than full time last year, knocking out a lot of classes right off the bat. I’m impressed that you maintained a perfect GPA while doing one point five times the recommended full-time hours.”

She turned back to her desk to click clack away at her keyboard before printing evenmorepapers to spread out in front of me. I aspired to type that quickly.

“These three classes align with your currently declared major. It looks like you are taking two out of four on campus–math and biology. Your online classes may be affected, which will have you spending more time on campus than previously expected.” She was drawing circles, doodling across the page in advisor style notations while my insides churned.

“Can we look at all possible options?” I was reeling from this entire semester already, and we were nowhere close to midterms.

Mrs. Matthews was perched and ready at her computer. “Of course! What are you thinking of changing to? Will you declare a minor as well?”

I fidgeted again. “I’d like to see my options for something business related.”

She clicked around, printing out more pages to spread out and mark up. She rambled off a bunch of majors that sounded like no fun at all. “We have a general business degree that could encompass all aspects, or we have accounting, finance, marketing, international business, and business administration. There are some other niche majors if you are looking for pinpointing something within the business realm.”

The inside of my lip was going to be minced meat by the end of this conversation. “What happens if I can’t change my classes this semester?”

The reassuring look on her face told me that she’d handled many a situation like mine before. Parents demanding their kids change majors after they found out they were going for something unrelated to the family business, it felt like a normal occurrence here. “Your major change does not have to happen this semester,” she smiled. A warm smile. “Here, if you look, you can finish out this semester as is. These two classes here can be applied to your extra credit classes—the free credits as they call them. With your overtime work last semester, I think this puts you in a fine spot to finish this one out as planned.”

That sparked a little bit of hope inside my chest. That I would still get to feel like myself for one more semester before I was forced to concede and continue with the plan laid out for me.

“So, no immediate change is needed?” I asked.

“No immediate changes needed,” she said, collecting up the scattered papers on her desk into a neat pile. She paper clipped them for good measure. “Come back closer to when classes are about to open, and we can build out your schedule. Now, do you have an idea of which major you were thinking of changing to?”

“The general business degree.” I wanted to scream and cry that my life was ending, but I began to realize that I was a nepo baby. I’d just been shielded from that fact for a long, long time.

What the hell did my mother expect me to do as basically a declawed cat?

“Shall I get you squared away with a redeclaration?”

I nodded in response. If I were to try to speak, I might have cried.

It felt as though I held my breath through the rest of the conversation, admitting defeat and coming to terms with what my life really was. I was Fallon Montgomery, heir toThe Montgomery Group International Real Estate Firm. What that even meant was beyond me. Mrs. Matthews—bless her soul—attempted to soothe my anxiety the entire time. By the time I left the office to go find Kelly, it was as if my view on the world began to change.

Not all of it did, though. Kelly waited patiently, sprawled across two chairs with her nose in one of those weird farming simulation games. Last time I saw her playing a game, it was a horse simulator.

“Hey, babe.” She looked up at me, tucking her game into her bag. “How’d it go?”

“I am ready to go get ice cream now and learn how to grow up.” I held up the paper stating a major change that I would eventually have to submit as proof to Evans when he came calling about it again.

She threw me a wicked grin. “Before that...a little birdie told me that the football team is going to start practice soon. If we want to be sad with ice cream, we could at least watch hot and sweaty men run around.”

We settled on getting bucket sized bowls of frozen yogurt. It was conveniently on the way to the sporting complex. I brought my body weight in cheesecake, birthday cake, and coconut flavored frozen yogurt to my seat in the stands to eat something yummy while watching something yummy.

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