The Freshman

Chapter Nineteen - Masquerade Ball

Emily's POV

It was the start of winter break at Hartfeld, and James was driving us out of town for the weekend. In the passenger seat, I toggled between several stations on the radio, tapping my feet to the music on each. "Hmmm..." I said.

"Hey, DJ, what's going on? Can't make up your mind?" James asked.

"Sorry, I can't sit still. I'm just really excited for our date tonight... I can't wait! A charity masquerade ball in the city? Yes please! So are we there yet?"

"Nearly. In fact, you should be able to see Northbridge right about... now."

The car rounded a bend in the highway, and before us lay the impressive skyline of the city crowded around a harbor full of boats. "Cool! This is definitely going to beat staying snowed in on campus. Thanks for planning this, James."

He reached over and squeezed my hand. "I'm glad I snagged the invitation from my parents. I wasn't sure when you were going to leave campus for the holidays..."

"I wasn't about to turn down a night of dressing up, eating fancy foods, dancing until dawn, and... well, you know..."

"What comes after dancing again?"

"I'm sure you can use your imagination."

"Now I can't wait."

"James, how well do you know Northbridge?"

"Very well given that I live there."

"You do?"

"Yeah, I have a loft downtown."

"That's awesome! But what about school? Isn't that a long commute to make every day?"

"It's not that bad. Besides, I'm not going to let traffic keep me from living in the city."

James took an exit ramp and drove into the city proper, navigating down several one-way streets. Eventually, he snagged a parking spot, and we both got out and gathered our things. "Cute neighborhood! I can see why you don't want to move. Cool cafes, a ton of restaurants, a theater down the street..."

"It's got everything I need."

"Seriously. I can't believe I didn't know where you lived until now! There's still so much I just don't know about you..."

"All you have to do is ask."

Bags in hand, James locked the car and led the way down the street. "I can ask you any question, and you'll answer it honestly?"

"How else would I answer it?"

"All right, I've got one, what are you most afraid of?"

"All right. What I'm most afraid of is... failure. Is my writing good enough? Will my play succeed? Will I make my mark on the world?"

"Wow, that got deep fast."

"You asked for honesty. Of course those are pretty common as far as writer fears go. I suppose I'm also afraid my parents are right. What if I'm choosing the wrong path? I interned at my father's company before. I actually fit in. I was challenged by the work, and I could see myself doing well..."

"But you still chose writing."

"Sometimes I still wonder if I'm making a huge mistake by not following in George Ashton's footsteps."

"I think you're brave."

"Really?"

"If you chose the same career as your dad, you'd be set. I mean, you'd still work hard, but with your dad's backing and contacts, you'd probably do very well. Instead, you decided to take a chance and do something you love without knowing if it's going to work out. That takes guts."