Page 10 of Seeds of Christmas
“Dominic loved it,” I say instead of answering.
“Dominic lovedeverything. That freak was genuinely excited about studying. It was unnatural.”
Despite myself, I smile. “He was going to do his PhD. Had this whole plan—undergrad, grad school, research position, maybe teaching eventually. He knew exactly what he wanted.”
“And you?”
I’m quiet for a long moment. The game music loops on the TV, cheerful and repetitive.
“I picked geology because it seemed practical,” I say slowly. “And because Dom was in the program, and I thought... I don’t know. I thought maybe if I did what he did, I’d figure out what I wanted. That it would just click eventually.”
“Has it?”
“No.” The word comes out heavier than I expected. “I hate being inside all day. I hate labs. I hate sitting at a desk analyzing data for hours. Every lecture feels like I’m suffocating.”
Jake nods like this confirms something he already suspected. “So why are you still doing it?”
“Because I’m almost done? Because I don’t know what else to do? Because my parents already paid for three years of this and I can’t just...” I run a hand through my hair. “I don’t know, man. I’m just trying to get through it.”
“That’s a shit reason to finish a degree.”
“It’s the only reason I have.”
We sit with that for a minute. On screen, the game character idles, waiting for us to unpause and give it purpose.
I have to swallow several times before I can speak. “I dunno man, I feel like I’m just drifting.”
“Maybe that’s ok right now.”
“That’s deeply unhelpful advice.”
“Yeah, well. I’m an econ major. Self-awareness isn’t my strong suit.” He picks up the controller again. “But for what it’s worth? This research trip. Time outside, doing actual fieldwork instead of sitting in a classroom? Maybe it’ll help you figure some shit out.”
“Or maybe I’ll just freeze my ass off and come back exactly as lost as I left.”
“Possibly. But at least, you’ll have tried something different.” He unpauses the game. “And hey—if you figure out you hate geology, you can always drop out and become a surf instructor or some shit.”
“I live in the mountains.”
“Ski instructor, then. Same thing.”
I snort. Something about the conversation has loosened the knot in my chest.
Maybe Jake’s right. Maybe getting out of the classroom, doing actual work in the field, will help me figure out if this is what I want. Or if I’m just going through the motions because it’s easier than admitting I have no idea what I’m doing with my life.
“Hey, Jake?”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks. For moving out here with me. For... all of it.”
He shrugs, but his expression is soft. “That’s what friends do, bro.”
“You’re a softie.”
“Iknow. I’m very in touch with my emotions. The ladies love it.” He grins. “Now come on. I’m going to destroy you at this game, and you’re going to cry about it.”
“You wish.”
