"Hey, did you see Nate?"
"Yeah, he was totally holding hands with Emma!"
"Emma? The super hot one? No way!"
Hehehe.
It's been a few weeks since Emma and I told each other how we feel. Although I did say I liked her, I never actually said that I love her. I can't seem to get the word's out. It feels ingenuine. How do I know if this is love? Whatever it is, I'm happy.
So incredibly happy.
"Hey Nate, are you ready for today?"
"Good Morning Hailey. Erm, no what's today?"
"Career counseling, of course. The school wants to know what you're going to do after graduation in May."
Shit. "I totally forgot…"
I felt bad holding Emma's hand around Hailey. After what I said, I felt like it was… going back on my word. In a sense. Y'know?
"Be seated, class!"
Everyone sat down simultaneously. No one dared to speak when Mr. Smith was speaking. Earlier this year in November, some kid was late to class and spoke while he was giving the daily announcements and Mr. Smith chewed him out so hard that he didn't come to class for a week. I don't know what Mr. Smith said… but I didn't really want to know. I saw that kid crying. Crying! A football star! Can y'believe that?
"Thank you! Now, as I'm sure you know, today is career counseling day. You have an early dismissal today. After you have met with your career consultant, you are to be seated in this classroom until 11:00, in which you will be allowed to leave. I am allowed to let you leave, if you all finish before 11. Do your best to make the process as painless as possible. And to announce who your career consultant is– drumroll!" Someone in the back of the class started to use their fingers as drumsticks on their desk. "It's me! I will be your consultant today, so please be prepared to speak with me in the counselor's office down the hall. Most of the other classes are using the gym, but since we are so far away, I was able to convince the counselor to let us use her office. Be grateful. In thanks, you all should be prepared and be ready to give me this sheet during your meeting. Now, I will be going in alphabetical order by first name. Starting off, will be Andrew."
As Mr. Smith left the classroom, there was a collective sigh amongst the class. I understand why people were so stressed with him in the room. We all love him, but he has this incredibly demanding presence. Something terrifying.
"Hey Emma, what are you planning on doing after high school?"
"Well, I figured I'd go to whatever school I get a scholarship from. I've got a 3.9 GPA, so I have a fair shot at most colleges."
"Hm… interesting."
I know she's like the girl I love or whatever but… I don't know… to me she always seemed kinda… dumb. I wasn't expecting her to have such a high GPA.
"What about you Nate?"
"I'm planning on…"
What was I planning on doing?
I never really put much thought into it. I mean, I can probably get into a good college if I want to. I have the grades and I have funds saved. I don't really have anything I'm passionate about though.
"I'm… undecided."
"That's fine," She rubbed her hand on my head, putting her hair through my hair, "You don't have to do anything immediately. You've got your whole life."
"Emma!" Someone called.
"Oh, it looks like it's my time. I'll talk to you after you have your meeting. Mwah."
She kissed me on the cheek and went out to the hall to go to her meeting. I was red like a tomato and I heard the room go silent for a few seconds before going back to a loud and desaturated clammer.
I decided to sit in the back of the room at my desk and rest my head but all of a sudden Marc came up and shook me halfway to a concussion.
"Hey buddy!"
"Why are you here Marc…"
"I just thought I'd visit my gwown up wittwe buddy."
I looked at him dryly. I love the man, but seriously he acts like a middle schooler sometimes.
"Sorry, alright. I just wanted to talk because I heard some rumors and I was wondering if they are true."
"Fire away."
"Well, I heard you and Emma are going out. True?"
"Define– 'going out'"
"Next question! It was reported that you were seen leaving Emma's house before the new year early in the morning– implying you slept there. Is that true?"
"Yes, 2 days before christmas, I slept over at Emma's house– but why are you asking me all this shit! This is personal stu—"
I looked up from my desk and saw that I was being surrounded by the entire class, excluding Emma.
"Okay Nate, the third and final rumor claims that you have been spending a lot of time in the art room during second semester. Have you found a new passion in painting– and do you wish to pursue it professionally? No one has seen the piece you're working on, and no one has seen you leave with any pieces other than one specific canvas that you take home on the weekends."
"I… don't know– Marc, you're the one who told me I should lean into art more."
"Yeah, hehe, that's true. That last one wasn't a rumor, I just wanted to know your college plans buddy. Teehee!"
I punched him in the arm.
"You make me sick."
"Nate!"
"Oh. What do you know Marc, looks like it's my turn.
I smiled evilly and grinned to my ears as I walked away waving to Marc.
"Bye Bye Marc!"
* * *
"Have a seat, Nate,"
"Yes Sir."
"So, what are your plans– regarding your future endeavors beyond high school?"
I looked around the counselor room. A dark cold room. Despite the warm pre-spring weather, the walls gave off no warmth. It felt even colder because Mr. Smith sat in front of me with a stone face. He looked deeply at me, without blinking. As if a laser of snow was piercing through my heart. I felt a swelling feeling in my head. A throbbing, tight, swallowing, eclipsing darkness.
"Nate? Are you listening?"
"S-sorry."
"Okay, I ask again: What are your future plans?"
"I—"
I don't know.
I mean, I know what I said to Emma and Marc… but I really don't know. I don't know.
"I… I don't know."
"You don't know?"
He leaned off of the back of his chair, sitting slightly slumped forward using his hands to prop himself up, fingers intertwined.
"I… I'm not sure what I want to do…"
"Nate… look deep… is there anything you have any passion toward right now?"
"… Art?"
"Then you should do that. If it is something you have a passion for, go for it full force and put your all into it. Art schools are incredibly difficult to get into, so if you really want to get into one, you must go with haste. Do not waste a minute— not even a single second. You cannot afford to. You must work toward your goal, steadily. Your focus must be unwavering."
"I like art but… I'm not sure."
"Nate, is it okay if I tell you a story? The story of how I became a teacher?"
"Okay."
"In order for me to tell you this story, we must go back to when I was a student. The year was '02. I was a senior in school– just as you. I remember… I was antisocial. I was diagnosed with anxiety and depression in highschool which caused me to pull away from society. I spent most of my year doing close to nothing besides school work. My grades were okay, but nothing extraordinary. I was in no extracurriculars. I was in no social circles. I was virtually alone. I would walk to halls with my Ipod and headphones, mindlessly droning through school. But then one day after my philosophy class, my teacher pulled me over to the side. Mr. Burns. He retired a few years ago, but he was one of the best teachers this school ever had. He told me that in this life, we can either sit on the sidelines watching the football game– or we could be the ones to score the touchdown. He asked me which I wanted to be? And when he said that, I was rather confused. I didn't know what he truly meant. Even when I answered the question, I still think I didn't truly understand what he meant until years later. I'm sure when I said that you got an idea of what he meant, but for me in highschool, someone who lacked ambition, motivation, and social skills, my immediate answer was the sideline. I thought that this question was truly about football.
It wasn't until later that year when I was walking through the halls late after school, about 2 hours after I had forgotten something, and I passed his classroom. In the classroom at almost 5pm on a Friday night was Mr. Burns. He sat at his desk doing paperwork, and I thought to myself. What did Mr. Burns feel? He sure was an amazing teacher. Staying hours after school doing piles of homework, all just so he can teach us. 'Mr Burns!' I called out. When I did, I finally realized what he meant. 'Put me in!'. After I said that, he looked at me and smiled. I think all that time, the question had sat in his head too. I walked into the classroom and I pulled up a chair to the side of his desk. For another hour, I sat there talking with him. I told him about my entire life, from birth to that day. I told him about my feelings, and my mental health issues. I told him about how I felt isolated because of my sexuality, and how I felt that throughout my entire life, nobody had looked at me for me. Then I thought and was shocked. He was the first person I had ever told. What an amazing job. What an amazing teacher. What an amazing life. That's when I stood up from my chair and declared to Mr. Burns something that changed the path of my life forever. 'I'm gonna become a teacher Mr. Burns! I'll work hard so I can work side by side with kids like me and help them the same way you helped me.'
When I said that, I felt a weight be lifted off my shoulders. You know how I told you how he retired? That wasn't entirely true. He died. About 6 months before I was hired here, he died in his sleep. Cancer they said. I wondered how could such a kind man be taken so easily? I felt lost. I felt confused. I started my first year here depressed and in mourning. I'm sure the other staff remember. I was standoffish. Students didn't like me. But then I had a dream of sorts– but I like to think it's real. In that dream, Mr. Burns came to me and told me that I must keep living. He told me that no matter what, I must live. I had come that far, I couldn't stop. And after he told me that, I got back on the horse. If it weren't for Mr. Burns, I wouldn't have had the pleasure of teaching year after, including your class. Easily my favorite class so far.
I'm awfully sorry this went on for so long. In the end, I think I wanted you to take this as the moral of my story: the time will come. There will be something in your life– whether it be a person, place, thing, movie, book, or even a song– that pushes you in the direction you must go, and it will lead you exactly where you want to be. You will become extraordinary Nate James. I just know it."
I looked at Mr. Smith, a single tear rolled down his eye. He looked so much younger. In his face, I saw a little bit of myself. I saw a young 18 year old Mr. Smith, sitting in the classroom.
"Thank you for telling me that Mr. Smith. I feel we are very similar."
"No problem Nate. And don't be afraid to come to me if you need anything. I am always willing to talk to you. For now, I will hand you back your paper, and take your time to think it over. You just have to turn it in before graduation."
"Yes Sir. I will have decided by then."
I stood up and grabbed the paper. I felt a new sense of determination in my heart.
"Nate!"
"Yes?"
"Good luck!"
* * *
I'm grateful.
I still don't know what I want to do, but I have an idea. And that's a start.
"Nate! How'd it go?"
"Hi Emma. It went well."
"You change your mind?"
"... Not yet, no."
"It's okay, don't worry too much about it."
She ruffled my hair and held my hand as we walked back to the classroom.
I was really happy to be with her.
Couldn't she be my future?
She was like a stream of sun in my day. With her, that's all I need.
All I really want is to be happy.
I'll do what I can. I'll keep moving forward.
Like Mr. Smith said: a time will come.
Right now, I've just got to keep moving forward.
Stroke after stroke.
Breath after breath.
Palette after palette.
Brush after brush.
I'll make something.
I'll be something.
I'll make something that will shock the world.
I'll make art.