Eli pushed open the office door, the cool, sterile air inside greeting him with a quiet hum. The room was modest—neutral walls, a few plants placed on shelves, and a desk that held stacks of paper and a glowing laptop. Behind the desk sat a woman in her early thirties, her brown hair tied in a neat ponytail. She had a look of focused concentration as her pen hovered over a clipboard in front of her, eyes scanning the papers before her.
She looked up as Eli entered, her expression a mix of professionalism and mild curiosity. Her gaze softened slightly as she took in the boy's disheveled appearance—golden hair still unruly from sleep, clothes hastily thrown on—and she gave him a small, welcoming smile.
"Good morning," she said in a calm, measured tone, her voice gentle but firm. "I'm Professor Lawrence. You must be Eli?"
Eli stood just inside the doorway, his body language hesitant but with a touch of uncertainty. He met her gaze, his golden eyes flickering with an emotion she couldn't quite place—something restless, like the remnants of a dream still lingering in his thoughts.
"Yeah," he replied, his voice low and casual, but there was an edge of weariness in it, as if the dream still clung to him. "Just Eli."
Professor Lawrence raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to continue, her pen poised. But Eli didn't say anything further, offering only a slight shrug in response to her silent prompt. She sighed, but there was no judgment in her expression, just a quiet acknowledgment of the boy's discomfort with formality.
"Alright, Eli," she said, making a note on her clipboard before looking back up at him. "Let's start with some questions about your college choices. Do you have any preferences?"
Eli shifted slightly on his feet, his fingers tapping lightly against the strap of his bag. His golden eyes flickered briefly toward the window, as if the question were distant, something that didn't quite connect to him. His lips parted, but he hesitated.
"I—" He faltered for a second, rubbing the back of his neck with a sigh. "I don't really know."
Professor Lawrence's eyebrows furrowed just the slightest, but she quickly masked it with a soft smile, not wanting to push him too much. "You don't know what kind of major interests you?"
"No," Eli responded, his tone even, though his eyes seemed distant, lost in some far-off thought. He looked at her again, his gaze now focused. "I don't even know what I want to do with my life, really."
There was a pause, and then a slight movement in Eli's posture—he leaned against the edge of the desk, his expression softening into something more vulnerable. His golden eyes clouded, as if a daydream was suddenly forming behind them.
"If it was just me," he continued, his voice quieter now, tinged with a hint of longing, "I'd want to… you know, go to a fantasy world. Fight dragons. Battle monsters." His hands moved as if mimicking a sword strike, the faintest glint of a smile playing on his lips, though it was a smile that quickly faded into something wistful.
Professor Lawrence's lips parted slightly in surprise, and for a moment, she was unsure how to respond. She let out a small, defeated sigh and rubbed her forehead, exhaling as if the weight of the boy's dream were somehow too much for the quiet office to bear. She glanced down at the clipboard, the pen still in her fingers, but her focus was now more on Eli than the questions.
"That's… a very imaginative idea," she said, her voice soft, though tinged with a trace of concern. "But Eli, you know that's not possible, right?"
Eli blinked, his expression not one of disappointment, but rather, an acceptance of reality he'd long held within. His shoulders relaxed slightly, and his lips twitched into a small, rueful smile.
"I know," he muttered, his voice almost sheepish. "I know. I was just saying. Sometimes I wonder if I could actually live like that, though." He paused, tapping his fingers on the strap of his bag again, as if thinking it through for a second. "Guess that's just a fantasy."
Professor Lawrence studied him for a moment, her gaze softening as she read the quiet longing in his posture, in his golden eyes. She leaned back in her chair and gave a small nod, pushing a few strands of hair behind her ear as she exhaled.
"Well," she said, pushing the clipboard to one side and smiling gently, "it's good to dream. It's what keeps us moving forward. But for now, Eli… what's next for you?"
Eli paused at the question, his eyes flickering with indecision. There was no quick answer, only the subtle tightness in his jaw as he fought back whatever emotions might be welling up beneath the surface. He finally let out a deep breath and shook his head.
"Maybe just one step at a time," he said quietly, his words almost to himself.
Professor Lawrence offered him a reassuring nod, though her smile was tinged with something more somber. "Alright, Eli. I'll let you get going then. You've got a lot to think about. Let me know if you need anything else."
Eli gave a quick nod in return, a half-smile forming again—still distant, but less unsure. He pushed himself off the desk and moved toward the door, his footsteps slow but steady.
As he left the office, the door clicking softly behind him, Professor Lawrence couldn't help but watch him go, her gaze lingering on the empty space where he had been. There was something about him—a quiet ache, a yearning that made her wonder about the boy's story, the one he wasn't telling. She sighed again, her expression drawn, and returned her attention to the clipboard, but her thoughts remained on Eli for a moment longer.
Eli, meanwhile, walked down the hallway with a quiet determination. His stride was less frantic than before, but there was still a weight in his steps, a quiet burden that only he seemed to carry. His mind drifted back to the dream as he headed to his room, the image of the icy-haired boy still haunting the edges of his thoughts.
With a final glance toward the mirror on the hallway wall, Eli didn't stop to look at his reflection, but for a brief moment, it felt like something—someone—was looking back.