by Cassie Beebe
Jacob nodded.
“Plus, of course it’ll be satisfying to spend every day helping people. I mean, two of my aunts are nurses, and the stories they tell,” she shook her head in awe. “I just can’t wait to be a part of that, you know? It’s challenging and exciting, and it’s so important.”
“Hm,” Jacob muttered, wondering if he would ever feel so strongly about a career path.
“Or… something. I don’t know.” She blushed at her sudden dump of information. “Sorry, I’m talking your ear off,” she cringed.
“No, not at all,” Jacob reassured her. “I think that’s really cool that you have something you’re so passionate about.”
“Thanks,” she smiled under her flushed cheeks, pushing her hair behind one ear.
Jacob tried to ignore the anxiety – and if he was honest, jealousy – rising in his chest at the notion of a girl nearly 15 years his junior already having her life together when he felt like he was just beginning his. He looked around the crowd, appraising all of the young, freshman faces that surrounded him, and as he often had in life, he felt like an outsider.
“So, what are you passionate about?” Callie asked, as if on cue to drive home the nagging voice in the back of his mind screaming that he didn’t belong here.
“Um,” he muttered, trying to stifle his inner critic long enough to even ponder the question. “I, uh… I guess I’m still figuring that out,” he reluctantly admitted.
Callie gave him a warm smile. “Well, that’s okay,” she replied with a dismissive wave of the hand. “I think we all are. I mean hell, that’s what freshman year is for, right?”
Jacob grinned at her kindness. “Yeah, I guess so,” he shrugged, accepting the encouragement. Of course, there was still the sobering fact that he was over a decade older than everyone else in his position, but Callie didn’t seem to be aware of that. Or at least if she was, she didn’t show it.
“Thanks,” he said.
She raised her eyebrows. “For what?”
“Oh, um,” he muttered. Regretting the sappy sentiment, he changed paths and said, “For inviting me tonight. It’s been fun.”
“Oh. Well, I think Angela invited you,” she clarified.
Jacob thought back to that morning. “Right,” he said.
Callie shook her head at herself. “But, I mean, you’re welcome,” she offered anyway. “I mean, I’m glad you came.”
Jacob smiled. “Yeah, me, too,” he said, and he mostly meant it. “If it’s okay, though, I think I’m gonna take off,” he said, nodding back at the path to the dorms. “It’s past my bedtime,” he joked.
Callie laughed. “Yeah, of course,” she said. “I’ll see you around.”
“Have a good night,” he replied. He gave a wave to Angela and her boyfriend on his way around the mob of closely-pressed dancing bodies.
The closer he got to the dorms, the more the party sounds began to fade into the distance, and he was left alone with only the crickets to break the eerie silence. It was something he still wasn’t quite used to – silence. No blaring car horns, no police sirens, no alarms denoting a mental breakdown of a patient. Nothing to distract him from his own mind.
As he walked in the near-silence, listening to the crunch of leaves and rock under his feet, he took a deep breath of the fresh, mountain air. Rather than having a calming effect, it set his nerves on edge. In the open field, in the cool breeze, under the clear, starry skies, he felt exposed. With no noise and no distractions, there was nowhere to hide, not even from himself.
“NEW MUG?” JACOB ASKED.
Doctor Summers looked down at the clay cup in her lap. “Oh, yes! You like it?” she asked with a smile, raising it up to show it off. “My husband got it for me for our anniversary last week.”
“It’s nice,” Jacob replied, taking a closer look at the uneven rim. “Did he… make it himself?”
She chuckled. “Do you have to ask?” she rolled her eyes but looked back at the mug with an enamored grin. “Nine years is supposed to be ‘pottery,’ so he had one of our more artistic friends help him out.”
“Wow,” he raised his eyebrows. “Nine years. Congratulations.”
“Thank you,” she smiled, taking a sip of her tea and setting the mug on the table between them.
Jacob sipped his coffee from his usual white mug, appreciating the subtle note of hazelnut from the new beans the doctor had that morning.
“So,” she began, flipping to an empty page in her notepad. “You made it through your first month of college! How are you feeling about that?”
“Good,” Jacob nodded. “Things are going pretty well, I guess. I’ve got a couple friends, and the classes aren’t as hard as I expected.”
“That’s great,” she nodded along.
“Of course, it would be nice if I had a job,” he added.
Picking up her tea for another sip, she asked, “Haven’t had any luck in that department?”
Jacob let out a small sigh. “I’m pretty sure I’ve made it through all of the online applications available, but I haven’t had any calls. But then again, why would I?” he shrugged. “This town is full of eager, hard-working college students looking for jobs, and I would venture to guess most of them aren’t felons.”
“Hm,” the doctor pursed her lips, jotting something down on her pad. “So, you think that’s why you haven’t gotten any callbacks?”
“Well, that and my pitiful resumé,” he scoffed, outlining the rim of his mug with his thumb. Dejectedly, he added, “I guess my past is finally catching up to me.”
“How so?” Doctor Summers prodded.
He shrugged. “I spent my entire high school career looking after Maggie. And then when she died, I was so obsessed with her case that I didn’t have time to think about anything else.” Jacob shook his head at his past self. “Turns out, revenge doesn’t pay the bills. Who knew?”
Doctor Summers gave him a sympathetic grin. “Well, it’s never too late to start fresh,” she encouraged, and he fought the urge to roll his eyes. “Is your parole officer helping you with your job search?”
Jacob laughed and rolled his eyes anyway. “He’s not helping me much with anything,” he said, thinking back to the last few meetings he had with the old, surly man.
Their meetings were always brief. It was just a urine sample and the basic, mandatory questions. Have you been drinking? Have you done any illegal drugs since our last meeting? On a scale of 1-10, how stable would you rank your mental health in this moment? Killed anybody lately?
“Are you having problems with your parole officer?” she asked, concern creasing her forehead. “Do you feel he isn’t doing his job properly?”
“I mean… technically he’s doing his job,” Jacob said.
His response didn’t ease the concern on her face, so he sighed and tried to explain further.
“I think he thinks investing in me is a waste of time,” he elaborated. “That I’m just gonna be back in the system again soon anyway, so what’s the point.”
“What makes you think that?” she asked, setting her tea down to write something.
Jacob thought back to the previous weekend, sitting in the waiting room of Officer Millburn’s office with several other clients, waiting for the previous meeting that was running late to finish. The other men were going on and on about how much Officer Millburn had changed their lives and how valuable he had been to their recovery. If it hadn’t been for the familiar red-headed receptionist juggling sticky notes and phone calls in front of him, he would have thought he must be in the wrong building.
“A lot of his other clients seem to be happy with him, but the common denominator is that they’re all working off misdemeanors,” he explained. “First time drug offenses, mostly. I guess he just sees me as a lost cause.”
“Is that how you see yourself?” Doctor Summers interjected. “A lost cause?”
“No,” he responded, and for the first time in a long time, it was an answer he didn’t hav
e to think about. “But I can see why other people might see me that way.”
“Hm,” Breanna nodded, setting her pen down atop her notepad. “Well, I hope you know that’s not how I see you,” she stated.
He smiled. “Thanks.”
She returned his grin. “You’ve made a lot of progress, Jacob. At Bellevue, of course, but even here, since you arrived. You seem more confident and self-assured. Are you starting to feel like you belong here?”
That was a question he did have to think about.
He thought back to his first week at college, getting used to a new place, a new bed, a new life. Nothing was familiar. Even the simple act of eating breakfast was its own sort of ordeal. Although maneuvering the cafeteria at Westbridge wasn’t too different from eating at Bellevue, the fact that he was the “new kid” again made Jacob feel like he was starting over from scratch, and he only felt minorly more prepared for this go around.
He took a long swig of his coffee to give him an excuse to think a bit longer, and he stared at the milky substance as the hot liquid warmed his throat. Watching the white swirls move around the mug, he thought back to the reason he opted to forego his usual routine and put cream in his coffee that day.
It was the previous Sunday, early afternoon. After a long night of searching the internet for applications and tips to beef up his resumé, Jacob had allowed himself to sleep in a bit longer than usual. The cafeteria was busier than he usually found it at six in the morning, and after snagging a cup of coffee from the bar, he found pajama-clad Callie and Angela sitting at a table near the windows.
“Hey,” he greeted, taking a seat in their circle.
“Morning,” Angela replied through a mouthful of pancakes.
Jacob took in their matching pajamas as he sipped his drink. Squinting at the text on their shirts, he read, “Coffee and cream?”
The girls just smirked at each other, waiting for the joke to land.
He glanced between the two of them with a confused look.
Angela rolled her eyes, grabbing Callie’s hand and lifting up their intertwined fingers. Their vastly different skin tones contrasted each other like ebony and ivory, like….
“Ah,” Jacob said, understanding. He laughed. “That’s cute.”
“It’s what people used to call us in high school,” Callie explained, scooping at the mixture of berries and yogurt in her bowl.
“Wait, what does that make him?” Angela interjected, pointing at Jacob with her fork.
“Huh,” Callie muttered. “That’s a good question.”
The girls studied Jacob carefully with scrutinizing eyes as he sat silently sipping his coffee.
“Peppermint?” Callie suggested.
“Eh,” Angela grimaced. “I don’t think he has enough of a bite to be a peppermint.”
What does that even mean? Jacob wondered.
“Hm, yeah, you’re right,” Callie replied.
She is?
“I don’t know,” Angela finally shrugged, rising from her chair and grabbing her plate and cup. “We’ll figure it out. But for now, we gotta go get ready for work.”
“Right,” Callie responded, shoveling another quick bite into her mouth as she gathered her dishes. “Bye, Jacob!” she said with a full mouth.
“See you tomorrow,” Angela added.
“Yeah, see ya,” Jacob replied with a wave, left to sit alone at his table, befuddled by what just happened and staring at the cream-less coffee in his hands.
The memory of that conversation spurred him to add some of the sweet substance to his drink that morning at Doctor Summers’ office, and he had to admit that the cream he once thought of as too sweet now seemed like a perfect counter to the bitter bite of the strong coffee beans.
“So?” Doctor Summers repeated after the long pause. “Are you beginning to feel like you belong here?”
Jacob looked down at his cup again, wondering where he fit into the balance. He wasn’t sure yet, but Angela and Callie seemed determined to figure it out, and that thought brought a smile to his face.
“Yeah,” he answered with a nod. “Yeah, I guess I am.”
Doctor Summers returned his grin. “That’s really great, Jacob,” she warmly encouraged. “So, do you have any plans for the weekend?” she asked, folding her notebook shut and setting it on the table between them.
Jacob looked at the clock on the wall, surprised to see the hour had passed so quickly. “Not really. Just homework, I guess.”
“Well, I hope you don’t mind if I add to the pile,” she replied, jotting something down on a notecard and passing it to him. “Sometime before next week, I’d like you to go out and show your face at some of those places you’ve applied to. It always makes a good impression when you make an effort to actually introduce yourself in person.”
Jacob accepted the notecard, sighing at the assignment, but he knew she was right.
“I know it’ll be tough without a car, but if you’re going to get a job off-campus, you’ll need to be sure you can get there reliably,” she noted.
“Yeah, you’re probably right,” he said. “Thanks, Doc.”
“Of course,” she smiled. “You can tell me all about it next weekend.”
Jacob stepped lightly up the stairs to the library and headed for his usual table. Callie was already there, studying the page of a thick textbook with her fountain pen and composition book neatly lined up beside her.
“Hey,” Jacob greeted in a low voice as he took the seat opposite her. “Where’s your other half?” he asked, as she looked up from her book
She chuckled, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose. “With her other half,” she answered.
“Ah,” he replied, pulling his Psychology text book and a notebook from his backpack. “Sorry I’m a bit late,” he said, trying not to dwell on the irritation of having to wait an extra forty-five minutes for his regularly scheduled weekly parole meeting, because the parolee before him missed his bus and showed up half an hour late to his meeting. Until that afternoon, Jacob would have though it impossible for Officer Millburn’s face to house any more frown lines, but apparently clients being disrespectful of his time did the trick. Jacob thought that perhaps he would have, at the very least, earned some good favor with the man by being patient enough to wait his turn, but the officer was in an even more sour mood than usual, and he didn’t seem to acknowledge Jacob’s intentionally positive attitude.
But that portion of the day was done with, and he wasn’t about to revisit it, so he pushed those memories aside.
“Have you been here long?” he asked, hoping he hadn’t kept her from anything important.
“Just about an hour,” she shrugged. “But it’s okay. I got a lot of other stuff done, so it’s been a productive morning.”
“Oh, good.”
“What have you been up to this morning?” Callie asked, making conversation as she put away the textbook she had been reading and swapped it out for her Psychology notes.
“Um,” Jacob stuttered, trying to think of a generic way to describe seeing his therapist and his parole officer that morning. “Just a couple meetings,” he decided. “I’m trying to find a job,” he added, because technically that was true, and he and Doctor Summers had discussed job searching that morning.
“Oh, really?” she asked, interest peaked. “I know of a few local places that are hiring. Sometimes they’re easier to get than the commercial positions everyone and their mother is going after.”
“Yeah, I bet,” Jacob replied with a sigh. “Unfortunately, most of them don’t have websites, though, and I don’t have a car to go hand in resumés.”
“Oh,” she pursed her lips. Her eyes lit up for a moment, and she opened her mouth to speak, but her flushed cheeks made her pause. “Um… well, I mean, I have a car,” she said. “And I’m not really doing anything tomorrow. If you want, I could drive you around for a few hours, or something,” she shrugged casually. “I mean, you know, if you want to.”
“No, I’d love to do it,” she replied quickly. Jacob met her gaze and gave her a smile, and she looked down at her notes. “Plus, I could bring some homework or something for while I’m waiting for you,” she tossed in as an afterthought.
“Okay. Well, if you’re sure, that would be amazing,” he said, letting out a sigh of relief at what once appeared to be a monumental task being so easily crossed off his mental to-do list. “Thanks,” he grinned.
She smiled back. “No problem.”
Getting down to business, they cracked open the Psychology book Callie had graciously let him borrow, agreeing to share custody of it for the semester. That saved him enough money to buy a few more essentials - like a basic cell phone, for one. They continued working on their mid-semester project. After Doctor Bell had announced the project, it didn’t take long for Jacob and Callie to decide to pair up and work together. Over the weeks, the professor had given some more details on the assignment, and they had already turned in their proposed topic. For their social experiment, they decided to explore whether or not men are more likely to hold the door open for women than vice versa. That Friday, their topic was officially approved, so they had a green light to continue to flesh out the details of their experiment.
First, they discussed how they would do their observations. They ultimately decided, to get a good range of participants, they would perch themselves outside of three different locations and observe the behaviors of those entering and exiting the buildings. They spent a good amount of their study time discussing the variables that could arise and how to account for them in the measurement of their results. By the end of the night, they both felt they had a good, solid social experiment put together.
“So, maybe we could get together after class on Monday to do the first observation?” Callie suggested as they packed up their study materials.