The Sun and the Moon

➸ Chapter Eight: Follow Your Dreams

Will

My head pounds and I struggle to keep my eyes open. Professor Davis speaks animatedly as he drags a hand through his salt and pepper hair. He was the type of teacher you respected because he treated you like an equal. He made these classes somewhat bearable. I'm in my second year of my parent-mandated MBA. And I still have no clue what I want to do. I only know what I don't want to do and that's run a company like my dad does. That definitely went over well with my parents. No, they didn't scream and yell; that was too emotional for them. My father simply left the room with a mutter that he had a business call. And my mother, well, my mother said that 'we'll talk about it', the only sign of distress was a slight crease between her brows.

And that was it. My parents never brought it up because they preferred to pretend that I was going to take over once my dad retired. And I didn't bring it up because I didn't want to see the disappointment in their eyes.

I look around my class, everyone looks like they're doing exactly what they want to do. Or if they don't, they look like they know what they want to do.

With a sigh, I look back down at my notebook filled with incomprehensible scribbles.

Professor Davis ends the class after what seems like hours, which it probably was. He likes to let his classes drag on a little longer than they're supposed to.

"I'll see you all next week, please read the assigned sections."

He laughs as several people groan aloud.

"I know, I know. The hardass teacher is delaying your eventual contraction of STDs. So unfair."

I laugh slightly and begin to pack up my stuff.

"A word, Mr. Collins?"

I look at Professor Davis in surprise. I didn't think he knew my name, let alone wanted to talk to me. And I don't blame him, a class of 150 and I'd just be saying 'hey you'.

"Sure, Professor Davis."

He nods and gestures me to come down to his desk as the last few stragglers filter out of the room.

Professor Davis leans on his desk and I stand awkwardly in front of him.

"What was it you wanted to discuss, Professor Davis?"

"Please, call me Alan."

I nod and wait for him to answer my question.

"First off, I want to tell you that you're an excellent student. You're always on time and your assignments are always very comprehensive."

"Okay, thank you," I say warily, sensing a but as it seems unlikely that he would ask me to stay behind just to compliment me.

"But, if you don't mind me asking, why are you taking this course?"

"Pardon me?"

"Why are you taking this course? You're not passionate about the subject, you don't want to pursue a career related to it. Why are you taking this course, Mr. Collins?"

He stares intently at me, the laid back attitude vanished with the class.

"I-I...my parents are making me take it."

"Ah, any particular reason?"

"They want me to take over the family business."

"I see..."

By the way he scrutinizes me, I can tell that he knows I'm not talking about your everyday family business. It wouldn't be something where I work from 9-5 and then, get to go home and see my family. No, I've seen what it does to families, what it did to my family. My parents still insist that I take over, even though they've seen its effect first hand.