“It is.” He packed up his briefcase. The class had departed, and they were alone.

“I don't understand.” She shook her head. “What do you have against romance stories?”

“Nothing, per se.” He snapped his briefcase shut, his eyes on hers. “But I do agree with Joseph. You have an incredible talent, and you're wasting it writing fairy stories.”

“But you don't understand-this is what I want to write!” she cried, smacking the table with her story.

He shrugged. “That's up to you. I just want you to know what you're capable of.” He started toward the door and Maya felt tears stinging her eyes again, but she refused to let them fall. “Maya,” he said from the doorway. His voice was soft. She turned to look at him, but his back was still to her, his hand on the door. “Would you come to my office tomorrow at two? I'd like to talk to you about something.”

She frowned, but said, “Okay.”

He nodded, opening the door and walking out, leaving her alone.

“Oh come on! Skip it just this once!” Jen nudged Maya with her foot from where she was lying on her bed.

Maya looked back from the mirror, pulling her auburn ponytail tighter. “I can't, Jen. Work-study means I have to work in order to get to the study part.”

Jen sighed. “Well, who really wants to study, right?” She flashed Maya a grin and wiggled her eyebrows. “I know you'd rather come into Boston with us and see a movie.”

Maya shook her head. Of course, she was right. Jen had been her roommate since freshman year, and they had become fast friends, but she clearly still didn't quite understand what it meant to be going to a small, private New England college entirely on grants and the work-study program. Jen's parents paid her tuition, among other things.

“Sorry, sweetie, I really do have to work.” Maya glanced at the clock. Dinner shift started in an hour, and she was doing “run and set” tonight, meaning she was in charge of filling everything that was depleted on the school's huge salad bar.