Underwater
The trip to Fort Worth had flown by, seeming more like a dream than something that had really happened to him. It made Zac’s real life back in Austin look even more mundane by comparison, and only served to highlight how much more he wanted. He didn’t know what that more might be, but he knew it wasn’t endless college classes and a life in musty old lecture halls. A taste of the glamorous life that Taylor was on the fringes of had only left him thirsty for more.
It didn’t help that as soon as they returned to campus, the due date for his thesis proposal began looming over his head, like a rock teetering on the edge of a cliff, poised to crush him. He had skipped several classes and even canceled a meeting with Dr. Gould, but now Zac knew there was no escaping it. Thankfully, he had managed to sleepwalk through most of the research—he knew Oklahoma folk art like the back of his hand—and it took only a few afternoons hard at work in the library to produce a decent enough draft.
“Done already?” Melissa asked as Zac walked by the circulation desk, freshly printed proposal draft in hand.
He shrugged. “It’s as good as it’s going to get. Plus, I need to drop it off before Dr. Gould leaves campus for the day.”
“And then pizza and beer at your place to celebrate? I’ll buy.”
“Sure,” Zac replied. “I think Taylor is working late, but there’s an extra key under the doormat if you get there before he does.”
Melissa smiled. “I’m out of here in T-minus fifteen minutes and counting. So I’ll see you there.”
“See ya,” Zac replied, leaning it to give her a friendly peck on the cheek. “Thanks for everything, Melly.”
After a quick walk across campus, Zac found himself knocking on Dr. Gould’s door. There was something of a surprised look on the professor’s face when he ushered Zac in, and Zac supposed that was to be expected, considering how poor of a student he had been lately. He probably deserved worse than that; he certainly felt like he did, anyway.
“I, uh, I just wanted to turn this in—” Zac stuttered out, holding out the stack of papers that comprised what would be the rest of his graduate career. He couldn’t honestly say the topic was all that interesting to him, but few things seemed to hold his attention at all. He couldn’t really remember the last time he was passionate about anything—anything aside from his brother, at least, and for all the things Taylor might have been, a dissertation topic was not one of them.
“Good, good,” the professor said, taking the papers from Zac and motioning for him to have a seat. He did so, and waited patiently while Dr. Gould cleared his throat and shuffled through a few other papers. “I had been meaning to get in touch; we need to sort out your schedule for the next semester. It will be mostly focused on your dissertation, of course, but I thought you would be interested in perhaps picking up a folklore class this summer. They’re covering indigenous culture, which might overlap nicely with your study of Oklahoman folk art. Not to mention, it will fulfill one of your requirements for something outside of your program.”
Dr. Gould thrust a list of course descriptions into Zac’s hands, but the words on the page seemed to swim and blur. Zac couldn’t focus on them at all, and he had the distinct sensation of being pulled underwater and held there, unable to breathe. He had thought, eventually, that college would cease to feel that way. It had not.
“Actually,” Zac said, his voice not sounding like his own at all. “I’m not sure I’ll be taking any classes this summer. Some time off might be good.”
Dr. Gould nodded, something in his expression suggesting that he was waiting for something, waiting for Zac to say something else.
“And I’m not… well, I’m not sure I want to come back in the fall anyway.”
If Dr. Gould had looked shocked to see Zac, he looked the exact opposite at Zac’s declaration of his intent to drop out. Zac was shocked enough for the both of them, he realized. He had not known, until he said the words, that he truly did not want to stay in grad school. It was the truth, though, a truth that he had been running from for weeks, if not longer.
“Well, then. I think it’s good you’ve come to this decision now before you’ve gone any further. Do you have other plans for after you leave?”
“No,” Zac replied, shaking his head. That should have terrified him, but somehow it didn’t.
“Perhaps for now, simply taking a break can be your plan. You’re a bright young man, so I don’t mean to imply that you couldn’t hack it in grad school. It simply isn’t for everyone—it isn’t that you were wrong for it, so much as it was wrong for you.”
“Yes, that’s—I think that’s exactly my problem. I like creating art. Maybe it’s not too late to go back and study that instead, but I think… well, frankly I think I’ll go insane if I stay here any longer.”
Dr. Gould nodded, then gave Zac a soft smile. “I hope not. Take the time you need to get your mind in order, and if you choose to return to grad school—whether here, elsewhere, in a different program, whatever—you’ll have my support. I will give your proposal the attention it deserves, of course, but I will also see to it that we get your paperwork in order as soon as possible. Good luck in whatever you choose for the future.”
Zac nodded. “Thank you. I know I haven’t been the easiest student to advise.”
“You’re welcome,” Dr. Gould replied, looking for a moment as though he might agree with Zac’s assessment. Instead, he asserted, “I only want the best for all of my students, whatever the best for them may be.”
After exchanging a few more parting words and pleasantries that barely penetrated the fog inside Zac’s mind, he finally found himself in the hallway again, his back to Dr. Gould’s door. He had done it. He hadn’t truly even known he was planning to do it, but now the worst was over.
No, that wasn’t true, he realized. The hardest part was just beginning, because he still needed a plan for the future.
But that could wait. For now, it was time to celebrate his freedom. It wasn’t exactly what he had expected to celebrate with Taylor and Melly that night, but it would do. He could only imagine what the two of them would say, but he hoped they would be proud of him. With that thought in mind, Zac managed to collect himself enough to walk back to the lot where he had parked his car and drive the short distance back to his apartment.
He wasn’t surprised to see Melissa’s car in the apartment complex’s lot. A smile spread across his face and he took the steps two at a time, giving the door a nudge to see if she had left it unlocked. She had, and he pushed it wide open.
“Melly!” He called out, peeking into the kitchen to see her stretching to reach plates on the top shelf. He hurried into the room, and reached easily over her head to retrieve them. “Saw your car. You beat me here, huh?”
“Sure did. I was starting to think the pizza would, too; I ordered it from my cell phone before I left the library. Something about these Friday afternoon shifts makes me so hungry and I just couldn’t wait.”
Zac chuckled. “That’s okay; I’m kinda hungry, too. And when Tay gets here, I–”
A knock on the door interrupted Zac’s statement, but he wasn’t all that upset. He didn’t want to make such a big deal about dropping out, anyway, even if it did feel like it called for something of a celebration.
“That must be the pizza,” he said, handing Melissa the plates. “I’ll get it.”
“I told you I would pay!” She called out as he scurried away to answer the door.
Zac turned to shout something back at her as he opened the door, but once again found himself interrupted.
“Good evening, sweetie.”
“Mom?” Zac said, spinning around again to see both of his parents standing in the doorway of his apartment.
“I know it’s a last-minute surprise, but we were on our way to visit Aunt Sherrie in Corpus Christi—I’m sure we told you about that—and we had to stop for the night. So it just seemed logical to stop here, but of course, we have a hotel room. At the Country Inn where we stayed when you came down here for that first college visit, remember? We wanted to see you, but we know you don’t have a lot of room to spare.”
“Looks like he’s got even less spare room than we thought,” his father remarked, nodding toward a suspiciously sparkly and feminine jacket on the back of a chair.
“I—uh—well, you see,” Zac stuttered out, seeing no way out of the corner his parents had backed him into.
“Oh, that’s mine,” Melissa said.
Zac spun around and gaped at her, finding himself even more speechless, if it were even possible.
“And who is this young lady?” Diana asked.
“This is—I mean—umm, Melissa Darby.” Zac scratched the back of his head, wishing the room would stop spinning.
Melissa stepped forward and shook each of his parents’ hands. “It’s so nice to meet you two. Zac has been such a sweetheart this semester. When my boyfriend dumped me and moved out, I couldn’t afford my apartment anymore, and he took me in. Saved my life.”
His parents turned to look at him, presumably for confirmation of her story. Zac could only shrug and offer them a half-smile. Melissa had, in fact, just saved his life, and the fact that she had stolen much of Taylor’s story to do so was not lost on Zac at all.
“Why don’t you guys come on in?” Melissa said, ushering the two of them toward the kitchen. “We’re only having pizza for dinner, but I’d love the chance to chat with you two more. I bet you’ve got some great stories about Zac when he was little.”
Zac could only groan in response to that. After his parents had crossed into the kitchen, Melissa gave Zac a sheepish smile.
“I think I will let you pay for the pizza. You owe me now.”
“I definitely do,” Zac replied, shaking his head. “You should be an actress. You are way too good of a liar.”
Melissa just shrugged and gave him another smile, then scurried away. Only a few seconds later, he could hear both her and his mother laughing, and he hardly even wanted to know.
His head was still spinning when the pizza arrived, and he didn’t even know if he had managed to count out the correct change. Given how quickly the delivery boy scurried away, Zac had a sneaking suspicion he had given an oversized tip, but he hardly even cared. That sinking feeling had come back over him, but for an entirely different reason, and he knew it would stay until his parents had left.
He probably should have stopped to consider what that feeling said about his parents, but Zac had a feeling he wouldn’t like the conclusions it led him to. Instead, he just steeled himself and walked into the kitchen, trying his best not to drop the pizza boxes.
“Oh, Zac,” his mother said, setting down her glass of lemonade when he appeared. “This one is a real winner. I like her.”
“I like her, too,” Zac replied sheepishly, knowing that he didn’t mean it in anything remotely resembling what his mother had implied. He didn’t dare meet Melissa’s eyes to see what she thought. He would owe her more than just a few pizzas after this, he realized.
He set about distributing plates and pizza while Melissa dove back into a story about some of her strangest experiences volunteering at a public library during the summer. It was a funny story, and she had a wonderfully animated way of telling it—probably to distract from how awkward the entire situation was—but Zac couldn’t find it in himself to laugh the way his parents did.
Their laughter was so loud, in fact, that none of them heard the door open yet again. It must have, though, because Zac nearly dropped his plate when he heard a fifth voice speak.
“Did someone order pizza?”
Taylor. It was Taylor, because that was just Zac’s luck.
The room went entirely silent, and Zac wished that metaphorical wave would swallow him up completely.