Page 11 of Written in the Oceans

Claire and I had enjoyed our happy hour session last night. We talked about our lengthy and anticipatory plans for graduation. The realization that it would happen in just a short couple of months was barely settling in, and it brought on a new slate of dread. For me.

“This semester has seriously kicked my ass. I can’t wait for it to be over,” she said, a relaxed smile spreading across her face from the second margarita she was sipping on.

“Me too. I’ll be glad when all this is finally over,” I responded. I didn’t mention my run-in with an overly observant stranger or my near emotional breakdown. I just nodded along and listened to Claire’s chatter over the faint Spanish music that played above us.

Claire pulled her curly hair into a makeshift ponytail before letting it fall down. Her silky golden ringlets bounced as she rested her elbows on the table. “I just hope this internship pays off. My boss told me yesterday that they’re going to announce really soon who they’re hiring full time once the internship ends.”

“So if you’re hired, you would be working for Paramount?”

“If,” she emphasized.

I waved a hand at her, brushing off her modesty. I knew Claire. She was as fierce as she was ambitious. Her acceptance into an internship for Paramount, one of the most prominent production companies in the world, showed evidence of that. “I know you don’t like to toot your own horn, but toot away! Especially when your boss is saying… What were your words? That you’re the type-A firecracker the office needs?”

“Hedidsay that.” Claire giggled, blushing behind her hand. “Have you thought about what you want to do once you graduate?”

I sighed. “My mom and my aunt were just talking about that last night.”

“Oh, that must have been fun,” she said sarcastically.

“Yeah,” I agreed, an acknowledging scoff coming out of me at the same time.

“What did they say?”

“Just that I shouldn’t work at the bookstore after college, maybe look into more promising ventures. Like an actual career.”

She shrugged. “I mean, it doesn’t hurt to start looking now.”

“Yeah, I guess. I might look into it soon.” I sighed, my agreement unconvincing.

The truth is that I don’t have the eagerness that Claire has. I knew I wanted to study English in some way or form when I started college, but I don’t have an ambitious bone in my body. To be completely honest, I don’t have the faith in myself to be successful. Fear mixed with uncertainty is the perfect combination to keep ambition at my fingertips, never coursing through me to propel my future the way it should.

We had ended our night with me dropping Claire off at her apartment, our stomachs full of salty tortilla chips and watered-down margaritas for Claire and multiple refills of Coke for me, and I drove back home. I enjoy Claire’s company, but often it leaves me feeling that I’m lacking in some way. I don’t understand why my approach to our future is so different. I know our lives aren’t the same, with Claire having been brought up in the posh parts of Beverly Hills surrounded by country clubs, charity galas, and a long line of extended family and social acquaintances, while the latter half of my childhood was spent alongside my mom fulfilling her duties as a single parent. Yet her optimism radiates from her while I suppress mine. I realize how uncomfortable I am with simply being happy, so much so that I actually intentionally work to remain somber.

With my mind wavering in and out with thoughts of my future, I finish stocking the books. I walk my way over to the register and settle behind the counter, ready to spend my day ringing up local students while helping them locate their books. I often wonder if they, too, have doubts about their future like I do or if they have everything figured out, waiting for their next move so they can live out their dreams.

SIX

RHYLAN

“Hey, what happened last week? Weren’t we meeting for lunch?” Charles’s voice fades behind my fridge door, the upper half of his body disappearing with it.

“I uh… I went to school,” I answer hesitantly.

His face reappears, along with a confused expression. “School? What are you talking about?”

“There’s this coffeehouse right off campus near UCLA. I just went in for a bit.”

“Ah, I see. Mingling with the common folk.”

I roll my eyes at him. “I just needed to clear my head.”

He hands me a beer and sits in the seat across from me. He groans as he settles in and leans back, running his hand through his chestnut-colored wavy hair before draping his arm along the backside of the couch.

Our premiere, and the last event that will close the chapter for ourUnrestrainedpromotional responsibilities, is tonight. Which means another red carpet event and even more interviews that both of us will have to sit through. I’m not necessarily looking forward to it. Actually, if I’m being completely honest, I would skip it. I would avoid it altogether and stay home if Icould. And I think that’s part of the reason that Charles is here instead of at home keeping Amelia company as she spends the better part of the afternoon getting ready.

“How was your session? With Dr. Greene, is it?” he asks. Charles is one of the few people that know I regularly attend therapy. In fact, he’s one of the only people that has seen me in my darkest moments.

“It was… whatever.” I wave off his question.

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