The Thing About Three

chapter twelve | burning

I'VE ALWAYS FOUND it odd how memories could attach themselves to almost anything, even scents. Strawberry vanilla shampoo reminded me of childhood, sandalwood and mouthwash reminded me of my father, a waft of waxy crayons and manilla paper took me back my old elementary school.

And the smell of burnt berry pie would forever remind me of the day Dallas and I had our first argument.

It was a week or so after our little chat about Noah in the break room, and I stayed after work to watch some tacky movie with him that had just been added to Netflix.

I told him I wanted to cook for him, deciding on making a pasta dish my dad had said my mom used to make. It was the first meal she had ever made for him, and was her way of telling him that she loved him a month before she actually said it with words.

My dad made it fairly often for me growing up, doing good at keeping her memory alive, and I took over the dish when I was old enough to cook.

So, my making Dallas pasta meant a lot more than just dinner.

After we finished the pasta, with me sitting back and watching him eat it with a smile on my lips most of the time, I stuck a frozen berry pie he had picked up from the grocery store into the oven and we started up the movie.q

The catalyst of our fight was a line the main character in the movie said.

"Honestly, I don't know what I'm going to do after high school."

I laughed at that, saying aloud, "Same here, girl. Same here."

That turned Dallas's head. "Well, you're at least going to college, right?"

I shrugged. We'd never really had this talk before, mainly because I didn't like to think about the future. The unknown was scary to me. "I don't know," I told him.

His hand found the remote, pausing the movie. "What? No, you have to go to college, Claire. You're so smart, and you did great on your SAT and ACT, you're bound to get good scholarships."

"Yeah, but I'm not sure I really want to go to college," I answered honestly. "I don't know exactly what I want to do in life yet, but I do know that I don't want to have to go through college to do it. College is stressful and exhausting, and you don't need a degree to be successful."

"No, but I think you should get the degree while you have the chance and the funds," Dallas suggested passionately, his eyes intense. "You should definitely go to college. Even if you don't know what you want to do, you should at least get a degree to fall back on. Get a degree in psychology or something. You can do a lot with a psych degree."

"Dallas, I just—I really don't want to go to college," I said almost apologetically, as if I were hurting his feelings. "It's just not something I want to do."

"Claire, you're not thinking clearly."

I froze, feeling my temper flare. "Excuse me?"

"You can't just throw away college like this when you have the money to get a degree!"

"I can do whatever I please because it's my life, Dallas, not yours," I spat at him.

"I get that, but what you're doing isn't smart. I know that you're still young and—"

That made me even more angry, bringing me right back to the time we sat in the bleachers with Noah at the football game—when he had said I was "too young" for him to be with me.

"I'm only two years younger than you!" I yelled out. "It's not like I'm some infant or something!"

"I know, but you're young, Claire. You're still in high school. You haven't been in the real world yet. I don't want you getting out there and then realizing you should've gone to college when it's already too late."