Quick note: some people who have left reviews seem to be getting the idea that Cory isn't coming back home. Just letting you know that's not what I'm trying to get at in this story at all; he's just keeps isolating himself from everyone because he's stressing over the loads of schoolwork he has to get done. Don't worry, he's not leaving! :)

"Hello, Topanga."

Mrs. Svorski gave a brief wave of her hand to Topanga as she walked in, speaking her in her kind and accented voice. Topanga quickly returned her greeting with a brief wave and smile, glancing towards the booth where she and Cory usual sat. There, her husband sat, squinting as he bent over his books and took a slow sip of what looked like one of his multiple cups of coffee that cluttered the table.

"There you are, Cory..." Topanga said, sliding into the seat opposite him and studying his weak expression.

"Hey, Topanga…" Cory barely looked up as he flipped the page in his book.

"Studying going well?" Topanga asked.

"It is, actually…just a lot of stuff to get through." Cory said, still focusing his attention on his studies.

Furrowing her eyebrows into a thoughtful expression, Topanga could see that Cory was still unreachable, and she would probably be unsuccessful in trying to get him to come home with her.

Topanga reached across the table and gently placed her hand on Cory's. "Honey, it's time to come home. You've been studying for hours, you need a break."

Cory gave one of his frustrated chuckles, showing that he was about to get upset. "Look, this isn't elementary school anymore, Topanga. This is the big leagues—I can't take a little "break" to come home and be jolly just because it's Christmas…"

"Actually, you can, Cory," Topanga responded. "You'll have all weekend to finish you're studying, but you won't have all weekend to spend a couple hours with your best friend, your brother, and your wife. We miss you—you're being rude."

"And here you are, interrupting me while I'm studying, so I guess that makes both of us pretty rude, huh?" Cory snapped.

Topanga desperately glanced back at Mrs. Svorski, feeling embarrassed at the fact that the two of them were on the edge of fighting in a public restaurant—thankfully, she was the only one there at the moment.

"You know, you're going to the same school I am, Topanga, and I don't see you studying—what's up with that?"

"I'm just as prepared for finals as you are, Cory…" Topanga said.

"Why is that, Topanga? Why is it that you say you're just as prepared for finals as I am, when I've done more studying for one final than you have for all of them combined?"

"I feel confident and comfortable in my career choice, that's why." Topanga whispered snappily.

"Are you saying I'm not?"

"You sure don't seem to be!"

"Are you?"

"What?"

"Are you comfortable in my career choice, Topanga? Because you sure don't seem to be, either!"

Topanga stared at Cory, her eyes reflecting the fear and uncertainty she suddenly felt inside. Almost inaudibly, she finally responded with a short, "No, I'm—I'm not…"

Cory's eyes widened as she responded, seeming shocked and hurt that his wife had just said that. "Why not?"

"Because—I just think my career choice is more realistic…"

Cory still seemed to be in disbelief as the words were softly spoken into the quiet of the restaurant. Then, he seemed to act like it was sinking in, almost acting like he had expected it. Sighing, he ran his hand across the back of his neck in distress, then began chuckling as he muttered to himself.

"Everyone knows Cory as the hyper goof-off who doesn't have the guts to take anything seriously…" He said to himself under his breath. "Well, maybe they're right…and it's about time I proved them all wrong."

A stabbing pain of guilt hit Topanga as she watched Cory gather his stuff into his book bag, an expression of determination wiping away the previous look of hurt that had covered his face. Why had she said what she had said?

Letting in a frigid stream of December air as he opened the door, Cory gave Topanga a hostile good-bye. "See ya later, Topanga…"