Spring's Unexpected Love

Chapter 17 (Asher)

Math class was one of those classes that seemed to slowly kill me like some sort of poison. It started off hard, and only got harder as the year went by. Now that it was mid-April, math class seemed to be on a whole new level of hard; it was as if the teacher, Mr. Dawson, was speaking a completely different language.

I sighed as I checked the time for what felt like the hundredth time since class started; there were still thirty minutes left of this torture.

Then, as if my silent prayers had been accepted, I heard my name being called over the loudspeaker. "Asher Reid, report to Guidance Counselor Rivera's office."

I stood up, raising my hand to catch Mr. Dawson's attention, "Can I go?"

He nodded, "Take your stuff with you."

After gathering my notebook, calculator, and pencil, I rushed out of the classroom like my life depended on it, and perhaps it did. I wasn't sure if I could survive learning about the trigonometric identities any longer.

The initial joy to get out of math class fading, as I walked to the guidance counselor's office, I couldn't help but worry. I hadn't done anything wrong recently, right? I couldn't remember getting into any major fights with students or teachers which meant that I was probably being called for something else. I had a strong hunch as to what it was: my grades.

I felt a small amount of dread as I knocked on Counselor Rivera's office door. I was greeted with a warm smile as she let me in, gesturing to one of the overstuffed armchairs in front of her seemingly massive table, covered in all sorts of knickknacks.

"Do you know why I called you here, Asher?" She asked, settling into her chair on the other side of the desk.

I shrugged, "My grades?"

She shook her head, still smiling, "Well, not exactly, although your grades do factor into this."

Ew, "factor," why did everything have to sound like math?

She paused for a moment as if waiting for me to ask her to elaborate; when I didn't say anything she continued. "It's around this time that we start talking with juniors about their future goals and plans. You're going to be a senior next year, and will be applying to so many different colleges. It's my goal as a counselor to get you thinking about what you're going to do in the future- if you haven't already that is."

I stared at her, "Uh...?"

She laughed lightly, opening up a file folder that sat in front of her. "Well that's what I'm here for!"

I waited as she quickly scanned the file's contents. The future? Of course, I had been thinking about it, but I wasn't sure what I'd study in college. I wasn't a good student, and it didn't seem like anything in particular interested me either. Money wasn't a concern to me at the moment- I got more than I needed as allowance from both of my parents- but my grandparents were getting older and couldn't take care of me forever. I wanted to be successful in life so that I didn't worry them.

"So, it seems that you play ice hockey," Counselor Rivera said, looking down at the file, "Do you want to go professional in the future?"

I shrugged, "I don't know?" Did I want to become a professional ice hockey player? Did I even have what it took to be one?

"What else do you like to do?" The counselor asked.