Interpreting Destiny

The familiar aroma of coffee soothed me as I sat frantically attempting to complete my art assignment. I knew Professor Silverdoe wouldn’t give me another chance. I had been plagued with bad dreams for months now, and that has started to take its toll on my art. Fortunately, he had agreed to let me submit one more artwork to help me pass his class. 

However, the deadline was in two hours, and I hadn’t finished my painting yet. That is why I had rushed to my favorite café owned by my only friend in the world, Casper. He lets me come in at all hours and never forces me to order more than one cup of coffee. I could never quite understand why, but whenever I came here, my brain got fired up. I didn’t know if it was because of the ambrosia-like coffee or just the positive energy he radiates.

The hustle and bustle of the café never bothered me, as I was quite adept at tuning out the world and becoming completely immersed in my art. That’s probably why I had not noticed the girl watching me until she abruptly sat in front of me and snapped her fingers. “What the fuck?” I yelled, almost falling out of the chair and onto the floor. I regained my balance in time and sat glaring at her. “What?” I asked, not bothering to keep my tone polite.

The girl observed my almost-done painting in silence instead of answering me. Her critical eyes made me self-conscious, and I got defensive. “Have you never seen a painting of a wolf before?” I asked, contempt lacing my words. The wolf I was painting had silver fur with snow-white tips. A mist-like sheen hung on its skin, making it pop out against the midnight-blue background. It was awesome, even if I do say so myself. The problem, though? The eyes.

I could not figure out which color to use to get the effect I wanted. The girl opened her mouth to say something, but thought better of it. She winked at me and walked away. I would have chewed her out for wasting my time on any other day. But I was grateful for the interruption today, as she had unknowingly provided me with what I wanted. Her eyes were the exact honey color I needed to give my wolf. I hastened to capture the hypnotizing, alluring eyes with fervor and was pleased with myself at the result. No frigging way was Professor Silverdoe going to rip out my throat for being ten minutes late when he saw this. For that’s how late I would be if I made a mad dash to my college.

I wished for the thousandth time that I had a car of my own as I ran through the streets at breakneck speed. A few drivers cursed me as they swerved to avoid hitting me. I was halfway to my destination when a car pulled up beside me, and the passenger-side door opened. “Hop in,” the boy driving the car said. He had curly ginger hair and unsettling crimson-red eyes. Sensing my wariness, he motioned for me to get in one more time. “I won’t bite. Come on.”

God knows what induced me to get into the car. Perhaps the hours of sleep-deprived painting had muddled my mind. However, I had a nagging feeling that something about him made me feel safe enough to discard my wariness—a troublesome thought.

“Hey, don’t worry. I am not kidnapping you. I am a friend of Casper. I moved here last week and have been getting my bearings. Casper saw you running out without a care for road safety rules and asked me to pick you up before some car ran over you. My name is Theo. We will reach Ericson University within two minutes. That sounds good to you?” Theo asked.

Relief washed over me as it sank in that I won’t miss the deadline. I grinned at the painted canvas I was still holding carefully, silently thanking my stars that I had not ruined it during my mad dash. “That sounds good,” I said. “By the way, my name is—

“Nicholas. Nicholas Dawson. I know. That’s some cool art. Why did you choose a wolf, though?” he asked. Something about his careful nonchalance rubbed me the wrong way. Nevertheless, I said, “Well, I have been having these dreams…What’s the point of waking up at all hours drenched in sweat if I don’t use it to complete my art assignments? It all worked out for the best in the end.”

Theo side-eyed me but said nothing. I guessed he did not share my enthusiasm for art. “So what classes are you taking?” I asked. For some reason, I could never deal with silence for more than a few minutes. It creeped me out and made me feel as if something disastrous was going to happen imminently. Therefore, I start talking about anything that comes to mind. This quirk of mine usually drove people insane. Inexplicably, Theo seemed to understand my need to fill the silence. “I am majoring in Religion and Mythology,” he said.

“Oh, then we will be seeing a lot of each other,” I said. And as luck would have it, we had arrived at the university. I thanked him and hopped out of the car. I maintained a quick pace until I reached Professor Silverdoe’s office. I knocked lightly on the door and waited. He bade me to enter, and I rushed in. I did not give him a chance to open his mouth and thrust the canvas into his hands. “Well?” I asked as he stood analyzing my art.

The Professor always wore sharp suits, and he radiated authority. His bright red hair and golden-brown eyes made all the girls and some boys in my class swoon over him. I merely felt a strange combination of respect and loyalty towards him. Many of my other professors could not understand why I had elected to take an art class when I should be focusing on religion and mythology. Some of them tried to dissuade me from taking the extra class, as they felt I might burn out from stress. However, I stood firm and did not miss a single art class.

I felt a need to be near him for some incomprehensible reason, and I genuinely liked creating art. So, I became impatient when Professor Silverdoe kept studying my wolf painting in silence. “Well?” I asked again.

The Professor looked at me strangely. “Are you sleeping well?” he asked. The sudden question surprised me, but I truthfully answered that I was not. “All that’s missing are the purple Aurora lights,” he muttered, gazing at the painting again. Something tugged at my mind like a half-formed dream on hearing that. But the feeling faded, leaving me feeling bereft.

“I wish I could see,” I gritted out.

“What?” the Professor asked.

“It’s just out of my reach. I keep seeing a part of the whole. Why can’t I see it?” I murmured. I knew I was not making any sense to him. Nevertheless, I looked at him pleadingly. “When will it stop?” I asked.

The Professor gripped my shoulder reassuringly and said, “Get some rest, Nick. You need it. Coffee alone cannot sustain you,” he said. His words did not make me feel much better. However, the hand on my shoulder did wonders. I felt the worry gnawing in my brain melt away.

“I will, Professor. However, I have classes now. I can’t just run back home. The other professors would kill me,” I said, smiling gently to let him know that I would be fine. I could feel his eyes on me even after I left his office. Pondering what Professor Gellert would cover in my Greek mythology class, I did not pay much attention to my surroundings and slammed into what felt like a solid wall.

“Ow,” I said and glared at the person in front of me. “What do you eat?” I blurted out before I could control myself and grew red with embarrassment. “Sorry, it just came out. I will leave before I can make myself seem like more of a fool than I already appear.” I tried to side-step him and clear the hell out of there. However, he did not let me.

“I wanted to talk to you,” he said, stepping in front of me again to prevent me from leaving. A few passing students in the corridor looked at us warily, thinking we were about to fight. I grabbed his arm and led him to a less-crowded corridor. “What do you want?” I asked. He was not familiar to me, and I vaguely wondered how many new students transferred to the University this year. His sandy hair, violet eyes, and bright orange sweatshirt made him stand out from the crowd.

“Allow me to introduce myself first. I am Peter. Peter Hollow. Professor Gellert told me that you were his best student and that I would fare better in my studies if I spent more time with someone like you. I did not want to talk about this in the classroom, so I sought you out before you entered the class. It wouldn’t be too much trouble if I hung around you, would it?” he asked.

I stared at him in stunned silence for a few seconds, and he waited patiently for me to snap out of it. “Uh, no. It wouldn’t be a problem,” I said, still feeling weirded out. “We should get going if we don’t want to be late for Gellert’s class.”

Peter agreed and fell in step with me. “So, Nick, do you think I could get into the boxing team here? After all, you did appreciate my rock-solid body,” he said playfully. I groaned and turned to look at him. “Yes, you would have no trouble getting into the team, as long as you have matching skills. If not, Coach Mendez will have one of his students kick you out. And no, I did not appreciate your body. I was genuinely curious about what you eat for your body to feel like a brick wall,” I said. Peter chuckled at that.

“Anyway, will you be trying out, too?” he asked.

“Me? God no. I am not a fighter.”

Peter smiled softly and said, “You never know. Some people go their whole life without knowing what they are capable of.”

His mysterious comment intrigued me, but we had no time to discuss it further, as we had reached the classroom. We found some seats in the middle to sit and took out our books. Among the students who filed in at the last minute, I saw Theo. He grinned when he saw me looking at him and walked up to us and plopped down beside me.

“You ran off pretty fast. Were you that afraid that I would ask you to take me on a tour of the campus?” he jested.

Before I could reply, the doors burst open, and an unfamiliar man stormed in. His eyebrows were so furrowed that I thought someone would have to pry them up later if he did not want them there permanently. Theo and Peter tensed up for some reason at his entrance. “Shit,” they both said in unison.

The man turned to face us, his green jacket glinting in the sun that filtered through the windows, and said, “Professor Gellert is no longer up to teaching you pests,” he said.

“But I spoke to him just an hour ago, you snake,” Peter muttered. Theo shushed him. “Don’t draw his attention,” he said. I wondered when these two had come across him and if they were familiar with each other.

“You may call me Professor Finley. No, you can’t pester me outside this classroom, as you cease to exist to me once the class ends. Hand in your assignments in a timely manner. I won’t extend the deadline for any reason whatsoever. Now turn to page 789. We will be studying the Greek stories about the constellation. If you have any doubts, keep them to yourself. I am not your babysitter, so I won’t be holding your hands through this class. Research anything you do not understand,” he said haughtily and began to drone on about the constellations.

“What kind of professor is he?” I muttered to myself. The other two caught it, though. “The kind that could be the end of us,” Theo whispered, and Peter nodded gravely. I looked at them in confusion, but they would not elaborate. In fact, they spent the rest of the class glaring at the new professor. I knew that I should probably ignore them and focus on what the professor was saying. Strangely, though, I could not help but feel they had a good reason to act the way they did. I told myself that I would find out what it was later.