Rabbit in the Headlights

Disclaimer: I once snorted washing powder…by accident. I now hate doing laundry. Oh, sorry, thought this was my therapist's office. C'est le mien, toute mine. Mon précieux. Nah. Je couche

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This chapter is for Tinie because we also need to catch up sometime. I haven't heard about hydromechanics for a while! hugs

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Sandy threw himself back down onto the sofa, looking shifty as it groaned ominously. He reached up and caught Kirsten's hand, trying to pull her down to join him. She resisted for a moment but the mix of drinks had made her a little unsteady on her feet and she pitched forward with a shriek and landed beside him. The couch protested again and they both laughed. Sandy realised he still had hold of her hand. A second later he decided that he really didn't want to let it go. He quickly cast about for a subject in the hope of distracting her.

'So, uh, what are you thinking of majoring in?'

'It's complicated.'

'Complicated how?'

'Well my dad wanted me to go to Ivy League; specifically Harvard, Yale or Princeton.'

'But you didn't get in?'

'No, I mean, yes, I did get in.'

'To all of them?'

'Yeah.'

Wow, he thought. This girl was smart. Too smart to be sat here talking to him. 'So…um, why did you come to Berkeley?' he asked the obvious question.

'I didn't want to go to any of those schools,' she said simply. 'I wanted to go somewhere different.'

'Different? And you came here? Berkeley is pretty normal as far as college goes.'

'But it's UC.'

'…Yeah.'

'It's public school. It has real people.'

He laughed uncertainly. He didn't understand, Kirsten reflected sadly, no one did.

Sandy watched her face and knew she thought he wasn't interested. 'And Harvard doesn't have real people just because it's private?'

She sighed, 'I guess it does but…there would be a lot of people like me.'

'What, intelligent, beautiful people?' he asked. Kirsten, liking the fact he'd put 'intelligent' first, blushed at the compliments.

'Rich people. Kids who group up in a world like mine; one that's sheltered, comfortable, and apparently perfect. Everything is fake where I come from…except the designer gear and the suntans. The people…I can't explain it Sandy. I just don't want to be one of them.'

'You don't seem like it.'

'I try.'

'And we still haven't found an answer to the question!'

'I did say it was complicated.'

'You did, but I don't see how choosing between Brown and Berkeley affects your major that much.'

'My dad wasn't happy. He didn't want me to go here, didn't want me to take the classes I'm taking.'

'Ah,'

'He wanted me to do a straight business degree at an Ivy League Business School.'

'Shows he cares about your future,' Sandy said quietly, thinking of the father who had walked out on him.

'He cares too much,' Kirsten protested, registering the sudden change in the man next to here and wondering whether to ask about it, the shuttered expression on his face stopping her, at least for now. 'Trying to run my life is not caring. I've done everything he ever wanted and as soon as there's something I want to do he's totally against it. He hates the idea of me doing art.'

'Maybe it's not the most secure career path but if it's what you want he should respect that.'

'Caleb Nichol respects himself and that's it. You see, he built up this empire, a huge business; it's called the Newport Group. These days it has a finger in every real-estate pie in Orange County; residential, commercial, industrial…he wants me to work there, take over as CEO after him…'

'And you don't want to?'

'No. I-,' she stopped, flushing slightly.

'You…? What do you want?'

'I-want-to-own-a-gallery,' Kirsten garbled, surprised that she was sharing her secret dream with someone she barely knew. Maybe that was why. Or maybe it was the way Sandy made her feel; safe, confident; as if she could say and do anything. She trusted him although he was little more than a stranger, perhaps it was foolish, perhaps it was just the alcohol making her talk so freely, she didn't know. But she did know she was more than a little bit in love with this guy already.

'So basically he only grudgingly agreed to my coming here if I at least did Business, Economics and Graphics. He pays tuition but other wise he cut me off. It's better that way though,' she mused, 'I didn't want his trust fund anyway.'

She had a trust fund? He didn't think he knew anyone who had one of those and certainly no one, who if they had, would willingly give it up.

Kirsten suddenly felt she was talking too much, 'What about you?' she asked, 'You're at Law School right?'

'Yeah, Berkeley Law is at Boalt Hall. I did Legal studies here first though and now I'm majoring in Social Justice/Public Interest, I, uh…want to be a public defender,' he told her. 'I believe in justice and equality before the law. It's so hard to find but I still want to pursue it, share it, force it on this country if I can. It's meant to exist; it's a constitutional right but so many people are denied it.'

He was impressive, blatantly intelligent, driven. The passion he felt for his subject was obvious, his blue eyes bright yet serious, his hands waving excitedly as he talked. He spoke about his mom and her social work in the Bronx, the kids he'd met on the streets, the work he'd done as an intern in the summer in the Berkeley PD's office and Kirsten just listened, almost in awe. He was so straight and honest; there was a downright desire to do good, to help people. There weren't people like this in Newport. Newport. God she was embarrassed about where she came from, the realisation that she was incredibly privileged in so many ways that she hadn't even thought about before.

Sandy suddenly noticed Kirsten was looking uncomfortable, at first she'd listened raptly but now something was off. 'Are you ok?' he asked, mid-way through a story about one of his professors. 'I'm sorry, I have a really bad habit of rambling on and not letting anyone get a word in edgeways, you've just got to interrupt me.'

She laughed at that, 'No I'm fine and it was interesting, honest.'

He wasn't quite sure whether to believe her.

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This was a bit I wrote really early on. It's quite funny posting it now! Please review!

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