Page 32 of Heart of Gold
“Did you not get a football scholarship?”
I’m immediately embarrassed that I even asked that. “Oh my god, I’m sorry. That’s none of my business.”
He shakes his head, “Nah, It’s okay. I’m not here on scholarship. I play football because I love it, but I’m here for an education.”
I’m impressed, “What’s your major?”
“Pre-med.”
“Wanna be a brain surgeon?” I tease.
“Nope, a Rheumatologist.”
I tilt my brows together, “That’s oddly specific.”
“My mom has Lupus. It took her six years to get diagnosed and it took her an entire year to even be seen.”
“Geez, that’s a long time,” I sigh. “So you wanna help people like your mom?”
“Yeah,” He shrugs. “When I asked why it took so long to get into the doctor, they said there was a shortage in that specialty. So I’m gonna learn everything I can about autoimmune disorders. And after med school, that’s where I’ll spend my residency.”
His story warms my heart. “You’re a good son.”
He grins, “She’s a good mom, too. So what do you wanna do?”
I think about my plans for the future, but pause. Should I tell him the truth?
“I’ve always wanted to go to law school,” I chuckle. “Watched Legally Blonde one too many times.”
He laughs, “You change your mind?”
I cringe, “Not really, just changed plans a bit by coming to school here.”
“Where were you going to go?” He asks.
“Yale,” I admit.
“Yale?” He croaks. “You got into Yale and didn’t go?”
“Yeah,” I sigh. “I wanted to stay close to Grayson, but that didn’t work out and it was too late to change my mind.”
“So what’s the plan now?” He asks.
I groan, “I don’t know. Make the best of it, I guess. Graduate and try my best to get into law school.”
“You can do it,” he quips. “You seem pretty focused. After all, you’re at the library on a Sunday night.”
“Good point,” I agree. “I just keep telling myself that everything happens for a reason, even though I’m a pessimist.”
He shakes his head, “Well, I’m gonna be your optimistic best friend.”
My lips tilt upward. “Sounds good.”
We both sit there for a long time in silence, reading some of the textbook for the History class we’re both in, and finally I head back to my dorm. The night air is a little chilly and I’m wishing I’d brought my coat.
“It’s almost eleven o’clock, what are you doing walking around campus?”
Grayson’s voice sends a chill down my spine.
