Page 52 of Seeds of Christmas
I think about lectures. About feeling like I’m suffocating inside four walls.
“I like this part,” I say slowly. “Being outside. Working with my hands. Solving problems in real-time. But the rest of it? The research papers and data analysis and academic stuff?” I shake my head even though she can’t see it. “I hate being inside. I hate desks. I hate feeling like I’m slowly dying in a fluorescent-lit room.”
“Then why geology?”
The question is simple. The answer is complicated.
“Dominic,” I say finally. “I picked it because Dominic did. He loved it—genuinely loved it. And I thought... I don’t know. I thought maybe if I followed his path, I’d figure out what mine was. That it would just click eventually.”
“Has it?”
“No,” I answer more easily than I would have expected. “I’ve been waiting three years for it to make sense. For me to suddenly love it the way he did. But it hasn’t happened. And now I’malmost done, and I still don’t know what I want, and everyone’s asking about grad school and career plans and I just?—”
I stop, realizing I’m rambling. That I’m dumping all of this on her in the middle of the night.
“Sorry,” I say.
“Don’t apologize.” I can hear her shifting, like she’s propped herself up. “So what would you do if you could do anything?”
No one’s ever asked me that before.
I think about it. Really think about it.
“Something outside,” I say. “Something where I’m actually helping people, not just... staring at spreadsheets. Something that matters in the moment, you know? Not in five years when the research paper gets published. Basically, I don’t know.”
“That’s not nothing,” she says softly. “That’s actually pretty specific.”
“It’s not a career plan though, is it? ‘I want to help people and be outside’ doesn’t exactly translate to a job description.”
“It’s a start.” There’s something warm in her voice. “You don’t have to have it all figured out, Carter. You’re allowed to not know.”
“Everyone else seems to know.”
“I bet they don’t. They’re just better at pretending.” She pauses. “And for what it’s worth? I think you’d be amazing at whatever you choose. As long as it’s what you actually want, not what you think you’re supposed to want.”
“Thanks, Rhi,” I say quietly. “For not making me feel like an idiot.”
“You’re not an idiot. You’re just figuring it out.” Another rustle, like she’s settling back down. “We all are, really. I just happen to be one of those annoying people who knew what they wanted since they were twelve.”
I offer a small smile. “What did twelve-year-old Rhi want?”
“To be a volcanologist. I wasobsessedwith volcanoes. Had posters on my wall and everything.”
The image makes me grin wider. “That’s adorable.”
“It was deeply nerdy.”
“Still adorable.”
There’s a pause, and I swear I can see her blushing through the curtain.
“Well, now I’m into geothermal systems,” she says. “So I guess I stayed on brand.”
“You did.” I settle deeper into my sleeping bag, feeling more relaxed than I have in months. “Rhi?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m glad you’re here. I’m glad it’s you I’m doing this with.”
