Ask and ye shall receive.

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Serial 2

Not long after Dean Emerson had made his announcement, she left The Review office heading toward The Round.

The Round, North Central Texas University's theater, was in the center of campus. It was a large theater nestled between the university library and Rose Grove.

Smiling and laughing students filed out of the thick wooden doors. Which meant one of Paul Lerm's theater classes had just ended, but she didn't see Malan in the group of departing students.

Hands in his navy slacks pockets, Paul Lerm wore a broad smile as he strode out into the theater’s lobby. The theater professor looked quite distinguished for a middle-aged man. Gray had started to pepper his dark brown hair but he didn’t have to dye it.

Even though he was going gray, Paul didn’t look his age at all. It was like he’d discovered the fountain of youth because he had the Dick Clark look going for him.

Paul was one of the most popular professors on campus. Every semester he had a waiting list to be in his classes, and most times you had to ask his permission to be added to his class list. There were other theater professors on campus but students wanted to be in Paul’s class because they thought he was cool.

Students liked Paul because he was different from the typical college professor. He regularly came to class in comfortable clothing �?usually jeans and a sweater or a casual shirt.

Paul’s classes were always entertaining. He was a natural ham with a good sense of humor and a casual, laid back personality.

She stood in his path. His office was the first door at the top of the staircase. He usually wasn’t in his office. Most times he was hanging out in the theater, working to get ready for his next show.

His chocolate pools twinkled with delight as he regarded her. "If it isn’t my favorite Review reporter �?I mean editor."

"Oh," she teased. "Then why are you sending an editor to do a reporter’s job?"

"Because we want the very best," Paul complimented her.

"Yeah, and you went to your wife to get me," she said dryly.

"Actually, I didn’t," he pointed out. "The College and University Theater Association (CUTA) called her with the news. I had nothing to do with you covering it. Jayne wanted you. After all you’re an honor student."
She said pointedly, "Paul, you know I can’t cover the theater. It’s a conflict of interest."
Paul was well aware of her relationship with Malan. "I know," he said slightly annoyed. "But that may not be a problem I can’t even get Malan to go. He’s my star actor, the reason we’re competing, and he stubbornly refuses to go."

"He has to go," she said, remembering how Malan hadn’t been able to compete in the California high school drama festival his sophomore year. He missed so many days of school. He’d been sick a lot since he had some nasty fibromylagia. On top of that, his parents were going through a nasty divorce.

If he’d been able to go to the high school drama festival he would have won it all. That’s why he had to go now she knew he’d win it all.

"If you persuade Malan to compete," he gracefully kissed her hand. "Oh, Lathal, I’ll love you."

"I thought you already loved me," she teased.

"I do," Paul bantered back, favoring her with flirtatious looks. "But you know what they say, so many women not enough time."

She laughed softly, "Where’s Malan?"

"At his apartment. He said he had a paper to write for lit class and analysises to get done for me," he said.

She nodded and then headed for the door.

"Lathal," he called after her. She turned toward him. "When are you going to tell Malan about the Associated Press internship in Europe you’ve been offered this summer?"

There was only one way he could have known about that. Dean Emerson had been bragging about her again.

She sighed, "I don’t know if I’ll take it."
"Why not?" He said. "It’s a big opportunity given to only the best, and you’re the best. You owe it to yourself to take it, Lathal."
"I’ve been to Europe before," she informed him.

"So what," Paul said. "I think it’s piss poor reasoning to not take a once in a lifetime chance you deserve because you’re selfish."

"Hey, I’m not the only one," she said insistently.

"No," Paul agreed, then shook his head. "It’s not my place, nor do I, have any business interfering in your lives."

She rolled her eyes. Oh, yeah, sure. You say that, and then you lay the guilt on pretty thick.

She knew Paul and Dean Emerson meant well. The professors constantly encouraged them and pushed them to excel. They demanded excellence because they knew their students were the best in their fields.

The professors wanted the best for their students, and they’d given it 110 fold. Now that they were seniors they wanted to back off and take it easy a little. They’d worked hard for the past four years and they deserved a break. They wanted to enjoy the remainder of their college experience, but their professors still expected and demanded nothing less than their absolute best.

Sure, they wanted to go out in a blaze of glory. Sure, they wanted to succeed. The stress and pressure they felt on their constant quest for excellence had begun to take a toll on them. They hung precariously on a thin thread; these opportunities might be the straw that breaks the camel’s back.

She sighed. She wished she wasn’t in this predicament. No one said life was easy, but why did it have to be such a mess?

She wished she had an oracle to reveal what her future might hold if she chose one path or the other. Perhaps she should climb up a mountain to visit the all-knowing, wise great guru who had the solutions for her. Maybe she could wave a magic wand and poof everything would work out all right.

There was no oracle, great guru or magic wand. If she wanted help, she’d have to help herself. She didn’t know what to do. Maybe Malan could help her, but he was probably just as unsure about this as she was.

Misery loves company, or so the saying goes. She really needed Malan. Right now he was the only thing that made any sense in her life.

Two heads were better than one, or so the saying goes. Often better decisions were made when you have someone to discuss it with. Hopefully they’d be able to figure out this mess together.