Page 73 of Inevitable

“Yes?” he asked. “Sir,” he added quickly not to sound impolite in case he really had failed and needed to beg for a second chance.

The man smiled as if sensing his thoughts. It looked friendly enough, but Professor Peterson was a bit of a contradiction. He looked like Santa Claus with his long, white beard and round, red cheeks, but when he aimed his gaze at somebody, it quickly became apparent he was the kind of Santa that put coal in your stocking unless you scored a hundred percent on your test. Nothing less was acceptable.

“I wanted to talk to you about your future,” he said.

Ezra tried to swallow through the dryness of his throat.

“My future?” he managed to repeat. This didn’t feel like an intro to the dreaded “You’ve failed” speech he’d been expecting. His stomach still refused to lose the annoying hollow feeling.

“What’s your plan after you graduate from here?”

Ezra shrugged one shoulder.

“A job?” he mumbled. What else was there? In a few months he’d be the proud owner of an associate degree in biomedical engineering, which would open some doors to an entry-level position. His internship was the first step in that direction.

“Have you ever given any thought on transferring to a university?”

Ezra almost started to laugh. The idea felt far-fetched at best. Leaving all the practical matters aside, Morgans didn’t go to university. Prison? Yes. Multiple times a year if experience was to be trusted.

Ezra had already broken the mold by graduating from high school and attending community college. Anything beyond that had never even crossed his mind.

“Not really,” he said.

Professor Peterson tilted his head to the side and regarded him quizzically.

“I’ve been teaching this class for fifteen years. In that time, I’ve given three perfect scores altogether. That is, until you arrived. You score a hundred or close to it almost every single time. It’s bad for my reputation, to be honest.” He gave a wry chuckle. Ezra had no idea if he should laugh, but just to be in the middle of the road, he stretched his lips into a smile-like grimace.

“I like taking tests,” he offered hesitantly.

“I can see that. Which brings me back to why I asked you to come here. You just might be the most gifted student I’ve ever had in my classroom. Frankly, I think your talents would be wasted on some entry-level lab position.”

That was definitely not a question anymore.

“I can’t afford university,” Ezra admitted. “These classes here are a stretch already.”

Peterson regarded him seriously.

“Do you have a scholarship?” he asked.

“Partial.”

“How come?”

Ezra swallowed.

“High school was a bit rocky,” he said. Understatement of the year.

Peterson hummed thoughtfully and nodded his head.

“Do you know why I started teaching here?”

Ezra shook his head, startled by the sudden topic change.

“Because of people like you. People who have it written all over their faces that they want more. Not that there’s something wrong with community college and an entry-level lab position, but there’s nothing wrong with admitting you want more from life either. There’s no wrong or right way to do this. If you want a simple, low-key life, that’s more than fine. Hell, my roommate from college was a genius. The man won every award and scholarship there was. Everybody assumed he’d go on to change the world. He now lives in a tiny town in Colorado with his wife and works as a county architect. They go hiking every weekend, just adopted two puppies and a crotchety old cat. The man’s happy as a clam. And more power to him. It’s a life that doesn’t suit everybody, but he loves it. But there’s also nothing wrong with striving for more. Especially since you have the brains to go after that elusive more. It’d be a shame if you wouldn’t give it a chance.”

Ezra considered everything that Peterson had said. He’d never allowed himself to think he could do more. Be more. But now the possibilities were dangling in front of him, luring him in.

“I wouldn’t even know where to start,” Ezra muttered, more to himself.