Page 55 of Shadowed With Fear

“Oh, well, as much as I love the technical side of things, I don’t believe working on them personally is a good fit for me. My interests lie more academically.”

He nods. “Research and theory I’m guessing?”

I nod.

“Any genres or topics catching your eye?”

I chew on the inside of my lips. “Uh, yes, sir. I particularly enjoy the study of horror— “

“Ah, yes. Perfect. I also find the multiple facets of horror extremely fascinating. There is much to be discussed in terms of psycho-social frameworks.” Professor Logan leans forward, stacking his hands on top of his desk, a twinkle in his eye.

“I’m looking forward to seeing you grow, miss Beckett. You’ll do wonderfully in this career.”

A weight lifts from my shoulders, and I sigh in relief. “Thank you, sir. That’s means a lot coming from you.”

“No thanks, needed, dear. Now, about this project?”

And my good mood instantly shatters. I cringe, rubbing my arms. “Well, sir, I haven’t gotten very far— “

“No worries. No worries at all. Have you decided on a topic?” He pulls out a legal pad and a pen and begins to make small notes on the paper.

“I’ve started on multiple themes, but I can’t seem to keep inspiration for the ideas.”

I’ve tried my idea of before and after, my dad’s on Beckettsville and my roots, I even considered the concept of potential, but after two or three photos, my muse is shot.

“Hmm, I see. Mr. Cochrane confided in me that you had approached him about working closely. Are you two still meeting?” He lifts his head from the paper to me my confused expression.

“I’m sorry?”

“Ethan mentioned you asked to work with him on your portfolio, is this why? Your issues with theme?”

“I think there may be a misunderstanding, Professor Logan. I never approached Ethan. He approached me.”

He waves a hand as if to dismiss me. “Either way, are you still meeting him for additional help?”

I shake my head violently. “No, sir. I never met him outside of class.”

Professor Logan nods, writing something down. “Perhaps you should consider it.”

“No.” I blurt.

He sits back, a stern look of concern etched on his face. He clears his throat, casting a curt nod. “Alright. If you don’t want to work with Ethan, then you should consider speaking to Grayson. You see him frequently from what I can assume. He could be a great asset.”

I muttered my agreement, sitting back in the chair.

“Don’t worry so much about your progress, Miss Beckett. Inspiration is a wild and unyielding mistress. And I for one am extremely excited to see what you do with it.”

* * *

The diner is the same as it always is. Smelling of fryer grease, damn good apple pie, and the best burgers on this side of the Mississippi.

Liz is bustling around the booths full of patrons varying from a couple in their mid-sixties to the group of rowdy high schools sitting by the jukebox. Her hair is wild, busting from the bun atop her head, and her apron is slightly skewed, by she wears a joyous grin and bright eyes each time she glances over at me.

Liz has been working here since we were juniors, and I really don’t think she’ll take leaving after college very well. Her regulars have become her friends. She tells me all the new gossip that Mr. Henderson gives her every Sunday when he comes in for his cup of coffee and slice of pie. And she sent flowers when Ruthie’s husband died. They’re like her second family here.

I love coming in on the days she works just to watch her. She’s happy, loving life, and you can tell she cares about everyone that she speaks too. I like seeing her like this. My best friend is as happy as she can possibly be.

“So, everyone has been catered to for now, so unless Earl decides he wants a milkshake to go, we have about fifteen minutes to talk uninterrupted.” Her teeth flash in a bright smile as she wipes the stray hairs away from her face.