As if the professor could read her mind, he spoke again. "Don't let this overwhelm you. Each of you signed up for my class because something was missing in your lives. You wanted to delve a bit deeper. After this term, each of you will move on to new and exciting adventures. This person you approach will be a stranger whom you will most likely never see again. This is a good test for future job interviews, for your confidence, and for your overall education. If you have any questions, see me after class."
"What exactly are we looking for as a response?" someone asked.
"That is a good question. You are going to take note of their reaction. What is the expression in their eyes? Do they look away as you ask them? Are they open or closed off? Does their jaw tense as if they are uncomfortable, or do they laugh and relax? How you read people is important to how you will later conduct interviews and act in places of business."
"What do you expect on the paper?"
"I want a diagnosis of the emotional state of the stranger. Think of yourselves as psychologists, and the people you question as your patients. Write a five- to seven-page paper on how they respond, not just their answers, but their demeanor. Look beyond the box."
The handout came down Haley's row and she glanced at the short list of events placed before her. She hadn't come so far only to fail, so it looked as if she was going to be putting her newly learned skills to the test.
She chose a charity auction, and felt the first stirrings of unease settle in her stomach. No. She pushed the anxiety away. She could do this.
Leaving the class, she drove to a local mall and wandered around for a while, looking for the most nondescript black dress she could find. It was a strange feeling not to worry about money, but still she was frugal. Years of not knowing what the next day would bring had taught her to be careful. She couldn't change that in the course of a few years. She didn't want to change it.
Never would she be as selfish and bitter as her grandparents.
Finding a dress she could live with, she paid the cashier, then drove home. The event was that night and she figured she'd better get it over with, or else lose her nerve. If that happened, she'd have to try another event, and on and on until no events were left. She could do this.
Taking a little time to apply a spot of blush and some mascara, she threw her hair into a bun and slipped into the dress and low heels, then grabbed a purse and headed back out the door of her apartment.
Arriving at the fundraiser, she found herself in a line of cars waiting for valet parking. It didn't take long for her to reach the front of the line, and she offered a genuine yet nervous smile to the young boy who opened her car door.
"Good evening, ma'am. Have a pleasant night," he said as she handed him a tip and stepped from the car.
Walking through the open double doors on trembling legs, she found herself in a glamorous ballroom, and the butterflies in her stomach nearly flew out of her mouth. To be more exact, she felt as if something were going to come out of her mouth...and it probably wasn't butterflies. There was so much to take in around her.
Men were dressed in impeccably tailored tuxedoes - no rentals here - and women displayed gowns in all styles and colors, though none came close to her sixty-dollar off-the-rack pièce de résistance. The amount of sparkle from the diamonds dripping from the women was enough to blind her, but she kept her head high as she scanned the items up for bid.
Though she had enough money to pay for any of the items for sale, she would never spend ten thousand dollars on a one-of-a-kind diamond bracelet or twenty thousand for a night on the town with a Hollywood megastar. She had so picked the wrong place to come for her psychology paper.
Just as she was thinking it was time for her to abandon this mission, her eye caught on a poster showcasing an exclusive island resort with blue skies and shining beaches. Intrigued, she moved toward it and found an older gentleman standing nearby.
His expression was friendly; she wondered whether he might be willing to answer a few questions, but her shyness took over and she turned to stare at the advertisement.
It wasn't an auction item, but a vacation won by raffle only. At the end of the night, a name would be drawn, and the winner would spend two weeks at the new resort in Catalina Island when it opened in May. She was tempted to invest a few dollars on the off chance of winning.
"It looks like paradise, doesn't it?"
Haley was startled when the older gentleman spoke. She tentatively glanced up and realized he was speaking to her.
"Yes, it does. After my finals are done, I could use a vacation," she shyly responded.
"Finals? What are you studying?"