Dialogue
“Hey! I had almost forgotten you were coming today. How are you?”
“I’m good.”
“I don’t believe you.”
She, herself, didn’t believe it.
“Nah, I’m good.”
“I know when you’re lying. Want a cookie?”
“Yeah, but I don’t wanna talk.”
“So there’s something to talk about.”
“Crap. You and your Jedi mind tricks.”
“Sit.”
The bar stool drags on the icy tile floor. A creaking, screeching sound. She sits in recoiled silence.
“So I saw one of your friends at Publix a few days ago.”
“One of my friends, huh? Wanna narrow that down for me?”
“It isn’t important, but it is someone close to you. I asked her about her family, how college was going. She said she quit school. In fact I’ve seen plenty of people you went to school with around town. What’s with that?”
“How should I know? There are plenty of kids that quit school. And yeah, I know a few. Why are you asking me about it?”
“I know there are plenty of kids that quit school. But what I was trying to say is that there are plenty of kids from YOUR high school that quit. I was trying to ask why that was.”
A quipping brain sends muscles an unconscious impulse to smile. The irony and the symmetry were just superlative given a previous conversation.
“So I’m the common factor? I don’t know either. It was a small school. It might have had something to do with the fact the guidance counselor constantly berated us about SATs or attempted to scare the crap out of us right as she was pushing us out the door without ever really helping us. That may be it. No one tells you how to deal with the stress or what to do when you fail. I know from friends I’ve talked to that it always seems like no really cares or can understand or listen. Maybe they had other things they thought they wanted to do or maybe they’re just lazy. Maybe, if they’re like me, they don’t think they’re smart enough to make it.”
Just 54% of students entering four-year colleges in 1997 had a degree six years later.
