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7.

"Orion! Hi, how are you today?" My guidance counselor asked me on Monday as I walked into her office. Her dark colored hair was tied in a loose ponytail behind her ears, strands flying out and framing her young face, and her bright brown eyes were hidden behind thick-framed black glasses.

"Fine. How are you?" I politely responded, taking a seat in one of her comfy red chairs and slinging my backpack over the side of it.

"In your phone call you said you had some questions about college?" Her eyebrows pinched together as she stared at her computer screen, the familiar school email page up.

I nodded. "Yeah, I just wanted to get your opinion on something," I said nervously.

She turned away from the screen, sensing my discomfort and tucked her black hair behind her ears. "Ask away."

"Well, my parents want me to play field hockey in college, but I don't know if I want too. I mean, college is two different experiences for sports players and non-sports players, but I could probably get into a better college if I played sports, or, at least that's what my mom thinks. I've already got offers."

She nodded and brought her hand up to rest her chin on. "I see. Well, it's ultimately your decision to make, Orion."

Blowing out a breath, I reclined in the chair and rubbed my face in irritation. "Well that's what everyone keeps saying, but I know my parents subconsciously want me to go for sports like they did."

"But it's not their choice. They're your parents, so be aware of what they think you should do, but also factor in what you want."

"Okay," I said, nodding my head. "Thanks, Ms. H."

"Of course. How is field hockey? Word on the street is that you sprained your ankle pretty badly."

I grimaced. "Yeah, I should be back next week hopefully, my coach just doesn't want to take any chances with me playing before playoffs."

My guidance counselor nodded her head silently. "Makes sense. When are your playoff games?"

"Next week, I'm pretty sure coach said we have our first one on Monday, and it all depends if we win or not on the next one."

"Well, good luck, Orion. I hope your ankle gets better soon!"

Laughing lightly, I thanked her.

"Do you need a pass?"

Nodding, I watched her scribble some words onto a small slip of pink paper and hand it to me, giving me another smile as I made my way out her door.

It was already ninth period, and I didn't think it was worth it to go in only for the last ten minutes, deciding that I was better off going straight to Justin's so I could avoid Beckett and carry on with my day normally.

"Hey, Justin!" I cried happily, walking into his office, throwing the small pass into the garbage bin as I passed it.

"Hi," he said, turning immediately to look at my ankle. "How's it feeling?"

"Good enough to play later," I told him in a singsong voice.

He frowned as I took a seat on one of the small spinning chairs and started spinning it with my good foot. "It's not playoffs yet and it's only been a week, you shouldn't play on it until it's better, and you don't have a doctor's note yet."

I groaned and got off the chair, walking into the other room to retrieve a heat pack, brining it back and slowly slipping off my air caste. I put the heat on and leaned back so that my head hit the brick, closing my eyes.

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