Kind of like me.
Must be a Van Doren trait.
“What’s going on?”
A faint rustle filters through the line, as if she’s pacing. “Nothing major. I don’t know. Everything just feels off lately.”
“Off how?”
A beat, then two pass by.
“Like maybe college isn’t for me. Everyone around here seems to know where they’re going, and they’re excited about it. I’m just not sure anymore.”
That lands harder than expected. “I thought you liked being at Western. You’re almost done. Graduation’s right around the corner.”
“I know. I just don’t think I’m cut out for accounting. I hated the internship this summer, and the idea of doing it for the rest of my life makes me want to scream.”
I rub the back of my neck, searching for an answer but come up empty. “Can’t you talk to your advisor? Maybe change your major?”
She lets out a humorless laugh. “It’s a little late for that. I’d be stuck here for another two years, and I just can’t do it, Ollie.”
Her voice cracks on my name. She’s the only one who still calls me that. She’s from the part of my life that still feels untainted by headlines, contracts, or expectations.
“Have you talked to Mom or Hayes about it?”
“No. Mom’s so proud that I’m following in Dad’s footsteps. I don’t have the heart to tell her I might not want it anymore.”
I lean against the counter and watch my reflection shimmer in the glass. “You don’t have to figure out the rest of your life tonight. Just finish what you started. Give it a little bit of time to settle. You’ll get through it. Promise.”
“God, you sound just like Hayes.”
I smile faintly. “Yeah, well. As much as it pains me to admit it, he’s usually right about things.”
The silence that stretches between us is one that’s warm and heavy with memories. I can almost see her, barefoot in her apartment, hair in a messy knot, that stubborn crease between her brows when she’s trying not to cry.
“You remember when he made us paint the deck that summer?” I ask.
She groans. “How could I forget? I was eleven and it was a thousand degrees outside.”
“He said it was character-building.”
“Pretty sure you ditched us halfway through.”
“Hey, I had to get to practice,” I say with a grin.
“Right. And I was left to finish with Theo.”
“Exactly.” My tone lightens. “You don’t quit, Kia. You never have.”
She’s quiet for a beat. “You really think so?”
“I know so. College is just another deck in July. It sucks and burns, but you get through it.”
That earns a small laugh. “You always make metaphors sound like punishments.”
“That’s what big brothers are for.”
There’s a faint sniffle from her end and then a low, “Thanks.”
