“Harry, Ron, and Snape? Seriously?”
“I was going through a phase.”
“Please tell me your dog isn’t named Dumbledore?” he all but snorted, and I glared at him.
“My dog’s a girl. Her name is Bettina. What about you? Do you have any pets that I can make fun of?”
Nick stopped laughing and shook his head. “No. Sorry. My dad claims to be allergic to dogs, but I think he’s full of shit. No pets for me, not even as a kid. Not even a stupid fish.”
I couldn’t help it, but in that moment I actually felt sorry for him, and said so.
He shrugged but didn’t say anything.
After an awkward pause, he asked, “What are you majoring in?”
“Film production,” I replied, trying to stop myself from smiling at him like an idiot, but failing.
He let out a little groan. “Ah, that must suck.”
Confused, I squinted at him. Did he think my choice of major was lame? “Why does it suck?”
“Because I thought they were dropping it after this semester.”
I sat up straight in the hard stadium chair as my body instantly stiffened. “What are you talking about? Why would they drop it?”
He brushed his thighs, sending crumbs from his long-gone sandwich to the ground at his feet. “Shit, I could be totally wrong. It’s not my major, so . . .”
“But they have all the equipment, and t
hree separate studios. It doesn’t make sense,” I said slowly, not wanting to believe that State would actually cancel the program.
“Jess?”
Nick’s voice was clear, but my thoughts felt muddled.
“Jess, look at me.”
When I looked up, his deep blue eyes made my heart lurch like they always seemed to do.
“I’m sure I heard wrong. Check with your counselor, but don’t take my word for it, okay?” When I didn’t respond, he grasped my hands, giving them a quick squeeze. “Jess.”
“Sorry, I’m just silently freaking out here.”
“Don’t. I’m sure it’s nothing.” He waved a hand as if dismissing the entire idea. “So, tell me what you want to do in film production.”
My smile slowly returned.
“I’m not a hundred percent sure yet since I haven’t ever done any of it. I was thinking I might want to direct or produce, but there are so many other things that go into making a film, who knows which direction I’ll choose.” The possibilities seemed endless, and that filled me with hope. Hope that I’d follow my dreams and have a career I loved.
“What about you?” I asked.
“I’m a marketing major. My dad owns one of the top marketing firms in three states, so I’ll go to work for him as soon as I graduate.” His words seemed forced, not filled with the kind of excitement one would expect.
“You don’t want to work for your father?”
Nick’s brows pulled together briefly before relaxing, as if he wondered how I’d picked up on such a subtle detail. “No, I do. It’s just . . .”
When he didn’t continue, I asked, “What? It’s just what?”