♡ BRIAR ♡

The office of academic advisement is smaller than I remember. Nothing more than a semicircle desk and a few mismatched pieces of furniture with two halls of offices branching off either side. All the office doors are closed, but, every once and a while a student leaves through one either smiling or crying. I settle into the waiting area. The uncomfortable couches have mysterious stains, and with my dripping book, I might be adding a new one. The smell of them is similar to a years-old carpet, or, a stuffed animal you'd pick up at a lawn sale. Old. Gross.

If I didn't have to be here, I wouldn't be. I can tell that's the case for many of the students sitting around me. The girl to my left looks bored, chewing on a granola bar. A guy across the couch seems ready to explode. His hands are shaking. I wonder if he's retaking a class like me. Maybe he just really hates the smell of old furniture, or, the way the advisors seem to do anything but help you.

Me too, couch guy.

I try to utilize the supposed expertise of these advisors every semester, more out of necessity than anything else. Being a pre-medicine major meant keeping on track and organized or you fall behind. It's a train that never stops moving and if you step away from your seat—whether accidentally or not—it left you. I was not going to be left behind.

So, here I sit on a couch with a stain as large and murky brown as the one on my shirt, waiting for the advisor to give me anything but bad news. I don't think I could take much more. Not today.

I consider stepping outside to call my dad. We haven't talked in a few days, and I promised not to worry about him, but I would really appreciate hearing his voice. Even if he just tells me stupid jokes. Or about his boring day of playing board games and reading old classics in between needle jabs and pills. With the way I'm feeling right now, I'd settle for hearing his nurse's voice. Even if Carla would scold me for stressing myself out.

I can't, though, because my dad thinks school is my favorite place in the world. He thinks I have too many friends to name. I even convinced him my classwork is easy for me to handle. In my father's eyes, I'm having the perfect college experience. There's no video. No nickname. No Casey Brandt.

Before I can dwell on my own lies, or convince myself to call home anyway, a door opens. A frazzled-looking woman steps out. She wears a long patchwork skirt and a hand knitted cardigan that matches her pointed purple glasses. The boy leaving their meeting seems in high spirits. I take it as a good sign.

"Briar?" she calls my name from an office to my right. "Ms. Briar Elliot?"

I stand up and offer my best smile, "That's me."

Her eyes drop to the coffee drying down my front. I pretend not to notice and follow her into the office. It's more of a cube, really. Too cramped to fit more than a mass-produced desk and one plastic chair. She's shoved a bookcase in here anyway. Each shelf is piled high with knick-knacks. I count about a million frog-shaped figurines and one book. There are two frames on the desk before me. One looks to be her smiling family. The other is facing her. The nameplate between them reads MRS.REEVES.

She's made it surprisingly homey in here. The window is too small to offer much natural light, but, her two beaded lamps drip pinks and reds onto the shelf in the back. There's a cushion that looks hand sewn on the chair. When I take a seat one half of me is higher than the other.

"So, you're a sophomore?" She asks, clicking away on her computer.

I adjust the lumpy cushion. "Yes. Biology with a specialization in Cardiology."

"Hmm, ambitious," she muses. I try not to be offended by her tone. "I see you're enrolled in introductory psychology. You really should have taken that last year. Preferably in the fall."

My cheeks burn. "I'm retaking it."

"Oh! That's alright. Happens to the best of us. We'll just move some things around. You seem to be doing alright, then, honey. You're taking a full sixteen credits." She hits a few keys on her particularly loud keyboard. "I'm concerned by your lack of hours, though. Have you not completed an internship?"

"An internship? No. Is it required?" I ask. "I hadn't seen that listed on the college's website."

My stomach drops as I begin to panic. I thought I knew all the requirements. I don't know how I could've missed a step in the plan. Mrs. Reeves rolls back in her chair, grabs a pamphlet off of the bookcase, and rolls herself back. She places it in front of me.

"You'll need to have one set up by winter break."

"Sorry, I have to set it up? Is that not your job?"

She seems offended by my tone. She stares at me. I stare back. I bite the inside of my cheek extra hard. My dad says I need to be kinder if I expect to be a good doctor. I don't bother correcting him most of the time, but, doctors are some of the coldest people in the world. I think I'll fit in well.

"How many hours do I need?" I ask cautiously, careful to be polite. I can practically picture my dad smiling proudly.

She waits another beat before speaking. "One hundred and fifty hours."

I can practically see the train leaving me on the platform. I hop back on.

"Then I'll set it up."

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☺ A/N ☻

hey hi hello! i don't usually include author's notes because i never read them and i don't assume anyone cares enough to, either. but i figured i'd say hi to everyone coming over from tiktok. it's crazy how my video blew up overnight and I appreciate the support <3

lmk if you like the chapter lengths, btw! chapters 1 and 3 are technically two scenes from "chapter one", but i didn't think long chapters would be best for wattpad so i'm splitting them up lol

💌
xoxo, Jill