It feels like I’ve been given a second chance at life.

For the first time in a while, my mind feels unclogged. That’s the wonder of making yourself a priority. I’ve stopped thinking twice, stopped second guessing myself. Instead, I give my time to things that have my curiosity, things I’ve always wanted to do.

Though, I am contemplating that belly ring, mostly because of the pain. I have to keep picturing how hot it’ll make me look to keep my interest from dwindling.

To think this all happened because of a pep talk from a murderer.

“Ms. Buenavista.”

I’m dragged down back to Earth, only to realize that I’m once again in the career counselor’s office. That’s right. I paid her another visit after minutes of contemplating, going back and forth with myself. No more thinking twice.

The counselor looks at me expectantly, ready to get this meeting started. I believe her lunch break starts soon.

“I finished the internship application.” I tell her while scrambling for the documents.

The counselor receives it. “Is that all what brought you here?”

“And . . . well . . .” I pick at my nails. Why am I so fidgety? “I was going to ask – and I know it’s my last year  – but, well . . . do you think it’s too late to change my major?”

At first there’s silence, until she begins chuckling. It somewhat relieves some of my uneasiness. “That’s actually quite more common than you think. I get a lot of seniors changing their minds last second.”

“Really?”

“Yes,” The counselor nods. “And it’s never too late. You’re young, you have all the time you need. You should never rush yourself.”

Somewhere at the back of my mind, there’s a burst of euphoria. I never knew I needed to hear this. I’ve always felt like I was running out of time, that by a certain age I should be doing certain things. And since my future always felt bleak, I never welcomed mistakes with an open mind. Never gave any other ideas a chance but the one I thought would guarantee me a comfortable life.

Now it feels like I can dream again, hope for something bigger, better. And this time, life will just have to get out of my way.

“But I’ll tell you this,” The counselor continues. “It does hurt the pocket. That’s extra time and effort. And money.”

Right. Somehow, I forgot about the money aspect. Did I fail to mention that I despise the rich?

“If I may ask, what major were you hoping to adopt?”

Great question. Foolish, but I never really gave it much thought. I suppose I was going off a gut feeling, that if I settle for the major I have now, I’ll never truly be satisfied. I could do something more than sitting behind a cubicle.

“Well,” I start, not quite sure how to phrase my words. “Something that requires travel. Or visiting places.”

I’m not sure how well put together my words are, but the counselor seems to have gotten a good idea. She tends to her computer, researching, digging up some info. It almost drives my hope high.

“I have an idea that could save you a lot more money,” She tells me, still clicking around. “Have you heard of international business?”

I want to tell her I have, just to seem like I have a clue, but I haven’t. I shake my head.

She prints out some papers and hands them over. “Think of business but on a global scale. Why don’t you read up on it and return when you’re ready to proceed?”

Now I have the leisure to be hopeful. “Thank you so much, Mrs. . .”

She points to her name plate, the one sitting right in front of me. “Alitzer.”

My face grows hot. “Right.”

Then I’m out her office with a brand new sense of direction. And this time, I’m satisfied.

It feels like I can finally take a breath of fresh air. It's crazy how easy your life can be when you start adhering to your own aspirations. Makes for a great motivor. Especially when it comes to attending class. Previously, it was to sustain my scholarship, but now I think I actually want to study.

I'm rounding the corner when I catch a glimpse of someone familiar, standing by the Dean's office. I don't mean to linger, but I can tell that build from a mile away.

It’s him. It’s Shane.

I’m not sure why the first idea I get is to hide, as if I was spying on him. But he sees me before I can take any action. And he smiles.

“It’s you again.”

Indeed, it is— No, I said that last time we spoke. Instead, I go for something less awkward. “We just keep running into each other.”

“Yeah, what is it, the third time now?” He asks. “If I were any crazier, I’d think you were following me around.”

I’m so flustered that the only thing I can do is laugh, not even sure if he was serious or not.

But then he assures me. “I was only kidding.”

Thank God. The last thing I want is for him to think I’m a creep.

“So what are you doing here?” Shane continues.

I hold the papers up for him to see. “Just came by to change my future. What about you?”

“Making sure I’m on track to graduate,” He tells me. “I still have a semester left.”

I nod, considering – not only his answer, but his face. I’m trying not to be too blatant, but it’s kind of hard to do so. I consider his features discreetly, his body as well. He’s what angels design their image to resemble. I’m sure because there’s just no way anyone can be this perfect.

“So, listen,” Shane starts again, and my ears both stand at the ready. “My friends are having this get-together on Saturday, and I was wondering if you wanted to swing by?”

Wait. Wait.

Is he . . . asking me out? It isn’t a date, just an invitation. But it counts for something, doesn’t it? It does. I should really say something. I should open my mouth. Anything.

Once I’m done loading, I give him a smile. The first genuine smile I’ve been able to muster in ages. “Sure, I’d love to.”

Shane looks lost for a second. He finds himself moments later. “Here, I’ll text you the details.” He hands his phone over and has me input my number. I’ve never been more happy about memorizing ten digits.

After the exchange, Shane shoots me an emoji for confirmation, which I swiftly reply to. Then he gives me a smile. “I’ll see you later?”

I return the gesture. “Of course.”

Then he leaves, and my body reverberates with every emotion in the book. Mostly happiness.

___

That feeling follows me up until the next day. It feels like I’m on cloud nine. It feels like even if I wind up breaking my leg, I wouldn’t care a bit. Because Shane Foster has my number.

I probably shouldn’t rush things. I may be moving way ahead of myself. I mean, we only just began talking. Let’s be civil for now.

But the feeling won’t go away. This joy, contentment. Let me at least revel in it. I deserve this.

All is well until I find myself in Accounting, next to Colt again. It feels like I haven’t seen him in a while, which I haven’t. He disappeared a couple classes ago, and coincidentally my mood bettered around that time. Now he’s back with that air of suffocation.

His hair seems to have grown somewhat in that time, and underneath his jacket I can find his football gear. That’s right. Homecoming is just around the corner. Practice must be overwhelming.

If he’s exhausted, he isn’t showing it, because apparently he has more than enough energy for me. “Why won’t you look at me?”

Maybe because you’re a murderer. But I don’t say it to his face, lest he takes it as disrespect and decides to add me to his list once again. I’m trying my hardest to tune in to the lecture. Colt, however, won’t take his eyes off me.

Luckily, I receive a distraction. A text message, and it’s from Shane.

My hands grab the phone before I can even think about it. He wants to know if I’ll need a ride to the get-together on Saturday. My heart skips a couple beats. He’s concerned about my mode of transportation. Now, I could take it one step further and tell him I do. Wouldn’t that be dishonesty? It would be, but who cares?

I tell him some fabrication. I tell him my car’s currently out on maintenance. Then I wait, and wait. Until I get the reply I was hoping for. He’s volunteering to pick me up.

I have to remind myself that I’m in the middle of class, or else I would have made a fool of myself. I keep the celebratory scream as a hushed whisper, smiling so wide I’m sure it will imprint on my face. So this is what true happiness feels like.

I’m so caught up in my own world that I don’t fully see the look Colt gives me. His eyes, they've grown colder. I only catch the look for a split second before he looks away.

I brush it aside and instead, return back to the slideshow on my computer, giddier than ever. Because Shane Foster is picking me up.