His phone beeps with a familiar notification before he can finish his sentence.
“Go play your game,” I tell him. “The orcs are waiting for you to defeat what’s-his-face.”
Levi shakes his head. “The orcs are trying to stop me from taking down Donovos. Get it right, Josie. Jeez. Aren’t you supposed to be a genius?”
I absently scratch at an imaginary itch on the side of my face with my middle finger. Levi laughs as his phone beeps again.
“You better go. Donovos is getting impatient.”
“This isn’t Donovos. It’s Vada, the High Priestess,” he explains as another notification sounds. “We’re gaming tomorrow night and she wants to have a strategy session.”
“A ‘strategy session,’ huh? Is that what the kids are calling it these days?” I tease.
“Like I’d know,” he laughs. “I haven’t a had a ‘strategy session’ in?—”
“And that’s my cue to leave, big brother,” I say, hopping up and grabbing my phone. “Goodnight,” I call, heading up the stairs to bed. Jokes aside, I’m glad my brother has a social life, even if it is an online gaming group. I feel guilty being away at school, but I know that in less than a year, I’ll graduate with dual degrees and it’ll be my turn to take over parenting duties. Levi will head to Nashville or New York or L.A. and take the music world by storm.
And I’ll move back home to become a librarian.
I’m honestly not sure which one of us is more excited. Mel laughs at me, but she knows this is all I’ve ever wanted: to have a job where I’m surrounded by books and given the ability to care and provide for my siblings.
Mrs. Kemp, the librarian at the kids’ school, is retiring this spring and I’ll be applying for the job. She says it’s as good asmine because nobody else knows the library as well as I do, considering I spent every spare minute there. Virginia Kemp was my mentor, and I hope the universe smiles on bookworms because I can’t think of a better job than instilling a love of books in kids, no matter their age.
I brush my teeth, wash my face, slather on some moisturizer, and change into my oldest, softest, comfiest t-shirt before climbing into bed. Out of habit, I check my email one last time before turning off my light.
I tap the WolfMail icon on my phone, expecting my inbox to be empty, but it’s not. There's an official-looking email from the Dean of Academic Affairs. And I know it’s serious, because they’re using my full name.
Dear Josephine L. Reynolds,
The purpose of this letter is to notify you of a course cancellation. Due to insufficient enrollment, IS 561-02 Cataloging for School Libraries (T, Th 10 a.m.) is no longer being offered. If this course is a requirement for your program of study, please see the attached Course Selection Guide. Additionally, please meet with your adviser to secure a seat in one of the remaining sections.
Sincerely,
Dr. Gerald Mercer, Dean of Academic Affairs
A canceled section isn’t the worst news in the world.
Clicking on the attachment, I scroll through until I find my required course. It looks like there is one remaining section. It’s at noon on Tuesdays and Thursdays, which should be—hmmm…I tap a few keys and pull up my spring schedule. Ugh. That time slot would be perfect, except for the fact that I have another required class scheduled then.
I already dropped Teaching and Tutoring Writing once before, sophomore year. I loved the content, but that was a tough semester. The twins were down with strep, which ofcourse they shared with Iris. She’d just turned three and the infection hit her hard. It meant multiple trips to the doctor, which is probably how they also contracted the stomach flu. That was bad enough, but then Milo broke his arm and Zane got mono. I was ready to call it quits, move back home, and earn my degrees online like a proper introvert. Levi wasn’t having it. We compromised and decided it was best if I dropped the class with the most after-hours commitment. Since Teaching and Tutoring Writing requires students to work in the tutoring lab for at least ten hours a week, it was on the chopping block.
I’m looking forward to taking it next semester, but even if I wasn’t, it’s a requirement. But so is cataloging.
I close the attachment, open a new email, and type a quick message to my adviser. Then I put in a meeting request for the hours that I’m free this week.
That task done, I set my alarm, charge my phone, and turn off my light. I pull the covers up tight and will myself to fall asleep. Is it a problem that two required classes are offered at the same time, and I only have one semester left?
Yes, it is. But problems have solutions.
No matter what it takes, I’m earning my degrees on time and moving back home this summer to tag Levi out. He’s sacrificed everything for me, and I’m not going to let him down.
3
Josie
It’s mid-morning and Drip is filled with students and faculty getting their caffeine fix. I haven’t even gotten in line; my mind is still spinning after my meeting with Dr. Ambrose, my academic adviser.
“I’m dropping out,” I say, sighing dramatically.
