Page 3 of Safety Net
“I know you’re not stressed about post-grad,” Jonah said. “And in some cases, that could be a good thing. But you should make concrete plans. There’s a whole life after college. If hockey is what you want, you need to bring your GPA up to be eligible to continue playing in your senior year. You could potentially transition into an assistant coaching position. If you want to do something in Criminal Justice?—”
“I enjoyed the courses,” I said. “But I’m not interested in the career. Unless it was fictional.”
I had chosen my major because it was the most exciting option. It combined my love for questions and my itch to find answers.
“I don’t know what that means,” Jonah said.
“Like, fiction. Novels, games, movies.”
“You want to write about crime?”
“No, not professionally. I just like mysteries. So, if I could be inside a, oh, I don’t know, Agatha Christie novel professionally, I would.”
Jonah stared at me, silent for a second, and then laughed. I’d never seen him so light and unbothered. “I don’t know what to do with that.”
“Neither do I.” I smiled, but something twisted in my stomach. I flexed my fingers, attributing the discomfort to skipping lunch for this meeting.
“Well, since we’re in the same boat, we’ll work little by little together.” Jonah turned his screen so I could see the classes available for enrollment. “Let’s start by picking some electives. Whatever interests you.”
The class titles blurred together like some nonsensical child’s drawing. I blinked, trying to refocus. The gap between wanting to be better and the patience to do so widened with every breath I took. I bit down on my inner cheek, willing myself to seethrough the fog. To work a little harder on this future planning and foundation-building.
“So?” Jonah’s brows pulled downward, confused by my sluggish response.
My jaw tightened. The titles never came into focus. I couldn’t stare at them forever and waste Jonah’s afternoon any more than I already had.
I pointed out some random lines that included a few 3000-level courses. None of them would disrupt my early mornings or my afternoon workouts.
Jonah rubbed the back of his neck. “You sure?”
“Of course.” I nodded without hesitation. The longer this dragged on, the more I felt utterly useless. “They’ll meet my elective requirements, right?”
“They will,” he confirmed as he turned the screen back to him.
“Then, let’s do it.” I drummed my hands on the armrest, ready to get back to my bidding war. I hoped another fifty bucks would declare me the winner. Now that was satisfaction. That was a victory. “Sign me up.”
“You barely looked at the descriptions.”
“That’s the fun of it. Isn’t the point of an elective to broaden horizons? Can’t do that if I’m researching what the class will be like.”
“It’s not research; it’s basic information—you know what. Never mind. Maybe you’re right.”
“Going in blind is my preferred method for most things.”
Jonah sighed but nodded. “Alright, Lincoln. We’ll try this your way. But at the slightest sign of struggle, ask for help. Deciding things at the drop of a hat will only get you so far.”
“I hear you.” I gave the screen a final look. “I need to choose one more, right?”
He shook his head. “The hockey program strongly encourages all players to enroll in our Community Development course. Honestly, it’s an unspoken requirement.”
I frowned. I rarely (if ever) appreciated being forced into doing something. “They think we’ll feel less likely to take part in a gambling ring if we volunteer on the weekends?”
Jonah shrugged. “It’s worth a shot. I recommended therapy, but the committee wanted something group-focused.”
“And public enough to take photos of,” I filled in the gap. I especially hated doing something to further someone else’s agenda.
“Group-focused,” he repeated, though the knowing look he offered confirmed my suspicions. “The course should be easy. Just do your best to find a project that gives back to the community, meet with your professor regularly for updates, and the credits are yours. After that, you’ll only have two semesters to go. Then, you’re free.”
“Sounds like a plan,” I agreed, in a voice confident enough to mask my doubts.
