A/N: Okay, here's a one-shot, may become a two-shot in May.
I wrote this as an outlet, a way to unleash some of the stress I've been feeling this semester. I chose Luke as he was my only character in college at the current moment (Even if Joshua Fey-Wright might have been a better choice).
For my new readers, Luke is in California at Nodir University (Jumping off the end of "Unwound Future").
…
My heart slammed against my ribcage. My lungs were tight with the need for air. My palms were slick with sweat.
The loafers on my feet slapped against the cement as I raced across the campus of Nodir University.
Stupid car. I was so late. Would that effect my chances?
Who am I kidding! OF COURSE it will!
Now Luke, a true gentleman makes sure to always be prompt, Professor Layton's voice echoed in my head.
"I know Professor! I know! I'm trying!" I gasped, rushing through the quad and startling some of the students relaxing there.
Lucky. They probably weren't graduating this semester.
They didn't have to worry about applying for graduation.
About applying for Grad school or finding a job.
About writing long, upper level class papers.
About not having another chance to retake a class they did poorly in.
About having to do perfect in every single class they're taking.
About preparing for graduation itself.
About doing a graduation interview.
I flew into the Thomason Building, which held the Physical Anthropology department, and took the steps three at a time. My sides were burning with cramps. My lungs were begging for air.
I spent most of the last four years in this building. It, like home and London before that, held a lot of memories for me. Other then general education and field work classes, every class I took was in this building. Every club I was part of was in this building.
And it was in this building where I would have my Graduation Interview.
The interview I was now ten minutes late to.
The interview that would decide if I graduated this semester or not.
Finally getting the fifth floor, I skidded to a stop in front of the room I needed. I raked my fingers through my currently hatless hair, straightened my blazer, tightened my tie, and caught my breath.
After all, a true gentleman always makes a good impression. That, and it might help my chances, at least a little.
"Come in!" a familiar voice called in answer to my knock.
"I'm sorry I'm late," I said as I walked in. Sitting at the front of the room were four people. The Dean, the chair of the Physical Anthropology department, Dr. Kingston – my advisor – and Dr. Triton – yet another Archeology professor… and my dad. "My car wouldn't start."
"It's fine. Have a seat, Mr. Triton," the Dean said shortly, peering at me over his glasses. Pulling my satchel over my head and off, I complied.
My stomach churned with nervousness, and the base of my throat tightened painfully with the stress of the situation.
The four studied me for a few minutes, their faces guarded – even dad's – before starting the interview.
I was long. It was grueling. I felt sick the entire time. But somehow, I got through it and survived.
"Well, Mr. Triton, I think that's it," the Dean said, standing and offering his hand. I wiped my sticky, slick hands on my slacks as I stood, and shook his hand. "Thank you for your time."
"Thank you," I said with a nod.
"You may go," he said offhandedly. That made my stomach drop even more, but I left calmly.
I blew it.
Trying to keep as much dignity as I could, I left the building, my eyes stinging with anger, frustration, and stress.
…
A/N: IT'S NOT OVER!
Okay, you all know he made it. I'm not that mean to Luke! Well… sometimes…
Archeology is a branch of Physical Anthropology. (Anthropology is the study of humans. There's Linguistics [my readers would be familiar with this branch through Volca] Cultural, and Physical [which includes Archeology and Biological]).
The next part is something I decided to add during Spring Break. Obviously, Luke has MORE then enough experience to get hired somewhere. His best friend, Benjamin Willow (first seen in chapter two of "Her Special Someone") does not. Here is his (and by extension my) struggle with this.
FYI, this is set about a month after the previous part, and Luke and Ben know that they're set to graduate.
This part is from Ben's POV.
…
I slumped at my desk, staring at my laptop in dismay as I clicked through the different websites.
'Three years experience required.'
'Five years experience required.'
'Two years experience required.'
The list went on and on.
"Did that internship count for nothing!?" I demanded, slamming my fist down onto my desk.
"Well, it made us closer," a cheeky, slightly accented voice answered from the door of my dorm room. I turned in my chair to see Luke Triton closing the door behind him, carrying a McDonalds bag and two Styrofoam cups.
"Who said you can come in my room without knocking?" I demanded. Luke smiled at me.
"You did."
"Oh." I looked at the stuff in his hands. "What's that?"
"You weren't at lunch," Luke said, setting the bag on my desk and one of the cups. "And usually, when you aren't at lunch, you don't eat."
"So?"
"And when you don't eat, something is bothering you," he concluded, having that I just solved a puzzle look about him that was just all too familiar.
"Nothing's bothering me," I replied, pushing the bag out of my way, taking a sip of the coffee he got me, and going back to my laptop.
"Riiiight…" Luke said, taking a sip of his tea and watching me. I felt his eyes on me as I searched through the different websites, hoping for something. Anything.
"You're job hunting."
"What?" I demanded, lurching back in my seat and staring at him. Luke quirked an eyebrow at me.
He was right. I was job hunting.
And as it stood, I am not able to be hired. Everyone wanted at least two years of experience.
I had one half of a year. Not even that, since a semester is only four and a half months.
"You're job hunting, for after graduation," Luke said again, before moving closer to look at my computer. The faint smell of his Oolong tea with honey reached me. "And… not having any luck," he added with a frown.
"Yeah," I sighed, pushing my computer back slightly and putting my head on my arms on the desk. It was hopeless. I had no idea where to apply, or who would even hire me.
I was going to graduate from Nodir University, with this amazing Archeology degree, and will probably never use it.
"Ben," Luke said, putting a hand on my back. I didn't even realize that I was shaking slightly until that point.
"What?" I snarled, my stress taking the better of me.
"It'll be okay," he said, not even seeming phased. "We just have to figure this out."
"There's no 'we' about this," I said, looking up and looking at Luke. He had a calm, soothing look on his face. It was infuriating. "You have the advantage of running around since you were eight or nine with one of the greatest archeologists of our time, plus Dr. Kingston is taking you on as his assistant. I don't have that. I have an internship. That was only a semester long. Half a year. What the hell am I supposed to do with that!?" I demanded, my voice raising to a yell with each word. Luke stayed calm, waiting for me to finish.
That, too, was infuriating.
"If you remember," Luke started, "that internship gets you a foot in the door. And that museum sends archeologists out all the time. You were a good intern. They'll hire you, if you are willing to start at the bottom."
"You don't have to start at the bottom," I said bitterly, though I didn't really mean it.
"Are you kidding me?" he demanded, looking totally shocked. "I might not have to start at the bottom, but do you know how many times my life was in danger?" he said teasingly. I couldn't help it. I laughed.
Luke always knew exactly what to say to make me feel better. He reached over my shoulder and typed, one-handed, in the address bar, bringing up the museum's website. He bought up the "Careers" page and pointed to one of the first lines.
Previous Interns have a better chance of being hired.
"Really?" I said, reading over it a few more times. The knot in my stomach loosened slightly. The hopelessness eased.
"Really. Now, eat your heart attack on a bun," Luke said with a grin, closing my laptop and pulling the McDonalds bag closer again. "After all, we're going to go meet Jessica and Pearl in an hour, remember?"
"Right," I said with a weak smile, pulling the Big Mac and fries out of the bag and digging in.
Maybe it wasn't as hopeless as I thought after all.
…
A/N: Okay, so I gave Ben a happy ending. Thing is, I didn't have an internship, and I still have that helpless feeling, but I'm HOPING something will come along (I know I have to keep working at it, and I know I'm going to start at the bottom, but still).
And no, I'm not an archeology major. I know so much about Anthropology from taking three anthropology classes for my gen ed classes. I'm an English major with a minor in Computer Science, looking to get into the video game world.
Side note: I have NO idea how Ben should look. Any ideas, people?