If I try, I can remember that last week most vividly. After all, who wouldn't remember the last week before everything ended? But now that we are in a better place, why would I want to remember?

 At least the end didn't begin on a Monday.

 Thank God for that. 

 8:45 am on the Tuesday after Fourth of July was the beginning of the second week of my accelerated summer Psych 101 class.

 And I already regretted being in that class.

 This was as expected; I hated psychology. I had managed to avoid taking it during my 1st year of community college. But that fall I would be going into my 2nd year and I could avoid it no longer. So I had this bright idea that I would take the accelerated summer class and get it over with which would allow me to focus on more important core classes.

 Yet even knowing that my "not-too-distant future self" would thank me, I still wished to already be in that future that would never come.

 At 8:30 am that day, I was already settled into my seat, away from the window and closer to the door. I was content in waiting for class to start as the other students began trickling in.

 “Did you hear that there hasn’t been any new wheat harvested this season?” one student asked the other as they walked to their seats.

 “That’s old news…" the other replied, “They have been worried about this since this spring.”

 “That’s not the point.” the first pressed, “Don’t you find it hard to believe that there hasn’t been any new growth or harvest of wheat anywhere in the world? Wheat is a worldwide commodity! This has never happened before! The government has been trying to figure out why no wheat has grown this year.”

 The second student gave a shrug as they sat down, “There is no reason why it shouldn’t have grown. It has been raining very well by all accounts. Nothing they have checked so far has malfunctioned. Be that as it may, it’s not like we’ll starve. The government has made that very clear; we have a large storage of wheat.”

 “Tell that to the grocery store….”

 It had been in the news since the spring and even I found it hard to believe. The wheat they had planted had not yielded any crops and now that harvest season had come and gone people were getting antsy. Despite government assurances, wheat products were flying off the shelves left and right.  It was hard to snag any for yourself if you weren’t first, second or third in line. I had wondered what would happen if next year the wheat still didn’t grow. If the problem still persisted, would it eventually lead to a famine?

 Thankfully, at that time, Professor Collins walked into the room before I could continue that trail of thought any further. I almost groaned when I saw him; my right eye twitched ever so slightly.

 Here.  We.  Go.

 But then a tall, young man calmly entered with a backpack slung over one shoulder. It wasn’t uncommon to have newcomers as late as the second week of class, so there should have been no reason why he shouldn’t have been just another face.

 And yet he wasn’t.

 He didn’t so much as look at anyone as he made his way to the last row. He sat down, pulled out his books, and promptly turned and looked out of the window.

 I snatched my gaze away and stared at a page in my textbook. But at that moment, I saw no words. I blinked and shook myself. I didn’t know then what I know now, otherwise I would have understood very keenly what was happening.

 This young man's aura was different; when he entered the room, I couldn’t help but to be captivated.

  His hair was blue.

 So, at the time, I told myself that it was the blue hair that held my attention.

 It was a pretty cerulean blue, so anyone would be hard-pressed not to look twice.

 “Alright class! We will take up where we left off after I take attendance.” For once I was glad to hear the Professor’s voice: it helped me forget about that newcomer. I replied when he called my name.

 Then the Professor called, “Avi Monarch.”

 “Here.”

 This deep, baritone voice made me look up. It was the newcomer. I couldn't help but to sneak another peek over my shoulder at him. Still, he was looking out of the window.

 “It says you registered Friday, so this is your first week.”

 Avi looked at Professor Collins and answered. “This is correct.”

 “See me after class to go over the work you need to make up from last week.  For now, since you are new, I will ask you to make a formal introduction: your name, your major and then answer this question: ‘What do think is the key to solving life’s problems?’”

 Avi didn’t say anything for a moment.

 I know. I know.  It takes a moment to collect yourself after being asked one of those ‘What is the meaning of life?’ kind of questions.  However, it seemed that he had gathered himself because he opened his mouth to answer but Professor Collins interrupted,

 “Oh yes, I forgot. You must stand up, and you have less than 5 minutes to answer.” 

 There were about 15 people in this class. We had already faced that question.  I felt bad for him having to do this on his own.

 I turned to look back at him, as did many of the other students. It didn’t look like he even batted an eye as he stared into space for a moment before standing, “My name is Avi Monarch and my major is undecided at the moment. The key to solving life’s problems is to realize that you cannot solve a problem you did not create.”

 I think I saw Avi’s knees buckle to sit down, but Professor Collins waved at him to keep standing as he pounced, “Explain that!”

 I couldn’t help but to wince.

 It was like watching a lion stomping at his prey.

 Even from behind his glasses, I could see that familiar gleam in Professor's eyes.

 Avi was silent for a moment, “Some problems are of your own doing. Those you can probably solve.  But there are bigger problems that you have no hand in making, and it’s arrogant to think that you hold the key to solving said problems.”

 Avi sat down. My head bobbed absently. I felt that I understood what he was saying. The question was so general. What problems were we talking about?  We needed to know that before we could think about how to solve them. Then, if it’s in your power to do something about it then you get to work, if not then it may be unsolvable for you.

 “But if everyone thought that, no one would try to solve the bigger problems.”

 Ugh, here we go. I should have known that Adam Tweedle would have something to say. He always had a comeback. He was a psychology major and relished getting into debates. If there had been a teacher’s favorite in this class, I guarantee it would have been him.

 Avi’s head slowly turned towards him, “There is nothing wrong with trying, but you should be able to recognize there are problems that are beyond your ability to solve.”

 Adam’s eyes narrowed, “So you advocate quitting if you can’t do it? If that was true, Albert Einstein would not have accomplished what he did. ‘It’s not that I’m smart, I just stay with problems longer.’”

 “And yet the same man also said, ‘The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again, but expecting different results’.”

 I almost choked trying to stifle my laughter; but Avi continued without missing a beat, “That particular problem was solvable for him, and he solved it despite taking a long time. But the Professor asked an open-ended question. He cannot expect a specific answer to something so open-ended. We can debate the mechanics of each problem as they come. For instance, how to get from here to the other side of the country is solvable. Trying to achieve world peace is not.”

 “And yet people have won Nobel Peace Prizes.”

 “And yet still I don’t see a utopia....” 

 Professor Collins clapped his hands once before stroking his white beard. Adam Tweedle simmered down, but I could see he was still itching to continue the debate as he turned back to face the front.

 Most of us when faced with the likes of Adam Tweedle chose the easy way out instead of arguing. Whether people don't know what to say or, like me, they just don't care enough to get into it, it usually ends. But now it seemed that Adam had met his match. I know that it pleased the Professor to no end to have someone else in class who was willing to debate.

 “Very good. Very good. Let’s turn to page 30.”

 I absently flipped to the assigned page. As far as I was concerned, in a very short time, Avi had managed to make a lot of good points. I snuck a look back at him; he was looking out of the window once again. He appeared to have been unruffled by Adam Tweedle and I had to mentally applaud him for it.

 At least his answer about solving life's problems was way better than mine. Eager to get the spotlight off of me, I had just replied, “Use your brain.” When asked to expand on that answer I threw out something like, “People panic when faced with a lot of problems. So if they take a moment and not let emotion affect them and then think, the solution is there.”

 Of course Adam Tweedle got me too, “What about when the answer is not there or not solvable, then what?”

 “Then you seek clarity.”

 “Where?”

 “That depends on your belief.”

 And then I sat down.

 Maybe this Psych 101 class had a silver lining after all….