Letters of Love (Lessons in Love) by Clarissa Carlyle Page A

currently preparing for. Finally, she felt on top of her workload and caught up with her peers.
    “Alex!” a deep male voice hissed her voice as she headed towards her building. She ignored it at first, but the caller persisted.
    “Alex!”
    Glancing back, Alex spotted the unmistakable figure of Oscar, his long limbs leaning against a column as he stood precariously close to a school building, smoking, which was forbidden on that part of campus.
    “Oscar!” Alex strode over to him with fierce , driven steps, suddenly filled with anger at his blatant disregard for the rules. “You can’t smoke here!” she told him angrily.
    “It’s a free country .” Oscar shrugged nonchalantly, deliberately taking an extra-long drag from the white stick held in his perfect mouth.
    “No, it’s not .” Outraged Alex reached out and grabbed the cigarette from between his lips, immediately throwing it to the ground, where she stubbed it out with her Converse shoe.
    “America is a country of fake liberties, where the rich shepherd and exploit the poor, where the American dream is nothing more than a myth , and the real dream is greed. Gordon Gekko’s mantra of greed is good should be woven on to the American flag, you said so yourself.”
    “At least you’ve been paying attention,” Oscar deadpanned.
    “You can’t flaunt the rules like this, Oscar. You’re going to get expelled.” Alex pleaded with him.
    “So what?” Oscar shrugged.
    “You’ve got such a great mind, Oscar. Don’t let it go to waste because of some ill-judged rebellion.”
    “Ill-judged?” Oscar raised an eyebrow in annoyance.
    “Smoking where it is prohibited is a petty point to make.” Alex sighed. “Why not use your time here to make a real difference. Ace your tests, get an amazing job, become a part of the one percent and help to make a real difference in this country. Fix healthcare, make the tax breaks fair, all the things you claim are broken, try to mend them.”
    “I’m not going into politics,” Oscar answered stoically. “Your friend Ashley is the one destined to be a politician, which is a scary thought.”
    “But what about you? What are you destined to do?” Alex looked at him with open, earnest eyes. Oscar was the smartest man she’d ever met, yet he never spoke about what he wanted to do with that intelligence, how he would wield it as he entered adulthood to enact positive change.
    “I’m destined to die,” Oscar answered simply. The bluntness of his response shocked Alex , and for a moment she was speechless. Her mind’s eye suddenly saw her father’s lifeless body as his precious blood seeped out of him, the color fading from his face. She felt sickened by the image but also terrified.
    “Our time here is so precious and so limited,” Oscar continued, reaching into his pocket for another cigarette , which he lit up, but Alex didn’t protest.
    “We run ourselves ragged trying to make ourselves count, trying to make money , and for what?”
    The question hung unanswered in the air between them.
    “You go to class today, you waste a day listening to someone tell you how to think, and then tonight you might die of an aneurism.”
    Alex was silent. To anyone else, Oscar’s words might have sounded pious and self-righteous , but to Alex they hit a nerve. In the wake of her father’s death she’d continually questioned the meaning of life; she still did from time to time. The fragility of life terrified her, as did the immense question everyone would one day face: what comes next? The oblivion of death, of ending, was overwhelming.
    “Carpe diem,” she said, her voice small.
    Oscar took his free hand and lifted her face so that she was gazing directly into his dark, brooding eyes.
    “Exactly .” He smiled around his cigarette. “This is why you’re special, Alex, because you get it. Everyone else gets caught up in the crap, of worrying about making the grade, but you know it’s all about making it