Breathe

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Sixteen

*~*~*~*

"Shit." I swore as Hannah and I stood in the doorway of the gym. It was filled with various booths and people, all of them looking to find their future career, what their life would consist of after high school.

"Is it enough to get refs from the principal and vice-principal?" I heard Marcus ask people at the booth he and Courtney were standing at. "Should I go to the superintendent?"

"Our school doesn't weigh our GPA, so I only have a 4.0." Courtney told them. "Will this be a disadvantage."

"Yo! You only have to maintain a C-minus average to play." Zach chuckled as he and Justin looked over a brochure for one of the college booths.

"Look at the tits on this cheerleader." Justin pointed out, making me roll my eyes.

"Boys are pigs." I muttered.

"Yep," Hannah nodded in agreement as she led the way to one of the booths.

"Ready to begin your future?" The woman behind the booth asked us.

"Don't think I have much of a choice in that one, really." Hannah pushed her hair out of her face. "How's your financial aid?"

"How's your GPA?" The woman countered.

"Could be better." Hannah admitted.

"PSAT? ACT?" The woman questioned.

"Uh, I haven't..." Hannah began.

"You haven't taken your PSAT yet?" The woman finished for her.

"No." Hannah shook her head.

"Interesting." The woman pursed her lips. "Well, I can tell you that our financial aid tends to go to students at the top of their class, with SATs about the ninetieth percentile."

"Great. Thanks." Hannah put the brochure back before walking away from the table, with me by her side.

"Well, she wasn't too pleasant." I commented.

"What about you?" Hannah tried to change the subject. "What future are you looking for?"

"I don't know." I shrugged. "Whichever one I can afford, I guess. Maybe clown college? Ooh, or I could work at a pet store, play with cute animals all day."

"You need help." She chuckled before leading the way over to another booth. This one had no one around it, just a man sitting in a chair as he read a book, dozens of other books piled neatly on the table. "What future are you peddling?"

"I'll let you take the first guess." The guy said, putting his book in his lap to look at us.

"Hoarder?" Hannah guessed.

"Close." He nodded, amused. "Librarian."

"No way you're a librarian." Hannah shook her head.

"I know." He said. "When people hear the term 'librarian', they think sixty-year-old white-haired woman with cankles. We are... rebranding."

"Nice idea." I complimented him as I scanned over the various books on the table, recognizing some of the titles from my own personal library in my room at home.

"No offense, but isn't it like a dying industry?" Hannah asked. "You know, like travel agencies and cupcake stores?"

"Let me guess, you own a Kindle." He chuckled.