Chapter 3
Claire
The week passes without any major events. I teach my classes, tutor some students, hang out with Ryan, and grade. Before I know it, it’s Sunday afternoon, and I’m sitting in a stiff blue chair at the baseball game, squeezed between Zach and my mom.
Zach’s uncle gets free tickets to the games, since he’s the chief engineer of Angel Stadium, which basically means he’s responsible for the maintenance of the entire venue.
It’s a huge responsibility, one that I could never imagine Zach having.
I guess he missed that part of the gene pool, but he’s got plenty of other things going for him.
Zach’s leg bounces up and down. I set my hand on his knee, hoping to calm him down. He turns his blue eyes to me and gives me a big grin.
“Everything okay?” I ask.
“Yeah, just thinking about the, uh, app.” He runs a hand through his blond hair, looking every inch like the jock heartthrob he was in high school. “A lot going on.”
I’m about to ask him to fill me in, but Mom interrupts. “How was work this week?”
“Good,” I say to her. “Great, actually. I tutored a few students this week to help with their algebra foundations, and I got to sit in on the Academic Senate meeting.” I sit back in my seat and smile. “I really love working there.”
“That’s great, sweetheart.” Mom rubs my shoulder. “I knew you’d love it.” She glances over at my dad and grins. “Sometimes I really miss it.”
Yes, it’s true. Mom and Dad were both also—you guessed it—math professors at Coastal Vista Community College.
In fact, they took turns winning Professor of the Year for the last decade before they retired.
Everyone loved them. Which sometimes means I have big shoes to fill, but it also means I remind people of the professors they admired, and I can’t complain about that.
“You could always come back and teach part-time,” I say, teasing her.
“I could. But I’m not sure I could handle how much worse the students have gotten.”
I laugh. “They’re not so bad.”
“When I started, I could go over proofs in my Calculus 1 course. Real proofs! Now they don’t even know their times tables.”
I shake my head with a grin. She’s gone on this tirade before, complaining about how students’ math skills have gone downhill over the last thirty years. I can’t disagree, because I wouldn’t know firsthand like she does, but I don’t mind helping my students fill in the gaps.
Julie, Zach’s mom, asks my mom a question, and she turns her attention the other way. A wind blows through the stadium, and I shiver lightly in my seat.
“Are you cold?” Zach asks.
“A little,” I reply. One negative about living in Orange County, California—forgetting that winter exists. Today is unusually cold for February, in the low sixties, and I’m only wearing a light cardigan over my Angels t-shirt.
“I told you to bring a jacket,” Zach replies. He rubs my shoulder for a few moments then sits forward in his seat, resting his arms on his knees and paying attention to the game.
Guess that’s that. It’s the kind of familiarity that comes from growing up together and being in a relationship for ten years.
He doesn’t really do the big romantic things anymore…
or the little ones either. We don’t go on dates often, he doesn’t offer me his jacket, and he doesn’t bring me flowers for no reason.
But that’s normal at this point in our relationship, right?
Although, I don’t know if I remember a time he was ever romantic.
That’s okay. I don’t need romance. Comfortable is good, too. At least, that’s what I tell myself. Zach is steady and reliable. I know he’s loyal to me and will always be there for me. So what if he doesn’t give me butterflies?
Our dads show up with a few hot dogs, slushies, and nachos and pass them around to us all. Finally, something to enjoy. We watch the game for a little while, me trying to stay awake and not give in to scrolling on Instagram.
My phone buzzes in my pocket. Well, now I have a reason to check it. I take it out and see a text message from Ryan.
Professor BFF
Hope you’re enjoying the game. I’m gonna keep an eye out for you and the app genius.
I smile to myself and type out a reply.
Me
Are you watching?
Professor Bff
Figured I might as well. Nothing else to do this afternoon.
Now I kind of hope the camera pans over to me. I’ll wave and maybe make the shape of a parabola with my arms so he can laugh at my nerdy ways.
Me
How was the music video?
Professor BFF
He made me sign an NDA. You’ll have to wait until it’s public for me to share. Let’s just say I’ll never hear “Lover” by Taylor Swift the same way again.
I snort a laugh, and Zach glances over at me. “It’s nothing,” I say. “Just a text from Ryan.”
He nods and looks back at the game. I spend the next few minutes texting Ryan back and forth, but then I get to the point where I need a break from the game, the crowd, and the boredom. I get out of my seat and say to Zach, “I’m going to use the restroom.”
His eyes widen, and he looks panicked. “Wait, what?”
I jerk a thumb over my shoulder. “Bathroom. Too much slushie.”
“No, no, you can’t go yet,” he says, yanking me down by the wrist. I sit down hard on my seat and look over at my mom for reassurance that he’s acting weird, but she has the same panicked look in her eyes.
“Why can’t I go to the bathroom?” I ask.
“Just…not yet,” my mom says with a soft smile.
I cross my legs, hoping everything will make sense soon.
The inning finishes, and the announcer starts joking on the loudspeaker about the kiss cam.
We watch as a few couples are shown on the screen, that brief moment of realization when they’re paired on camera, and the quick (or not-so-quick) kisses.
One pair looks particularly disgusted, and it turns out they’re actually brother and sister.
I lean over to Zach. “Can I go now?”
“Not yet, babe. Almost.”
Almost?
Wait…what?
And then I look up at the screen and see…me.
And Zach.
I roll my eyes and turn to Zach. “Is this what we were waiting for? Did Rick set us up on the kiss cam?” I lean over to kiss him, but he doesn’t press his lips to mine.
Instead, he moves from his seat down to the ground.
On one knee.
Oh.
With a big, bright smile, Zach reaches inside his jacket pocket and pulls out a red velvet box. “Claire, I love you. You’ve been my supporter for so many years, and I just know I’m gonna make it big. And when that happens, I want you by my side. So…will you marry me?”
He’s PROPOSING.
My heart stops for a split second. I blink at him a few times, trying to understand what’s happening, and then the chant begins. It’s just a few people at first, the voices low, and slowly they build until the entire stadium—all fifty thousand people—are chanting, “SAY YES! SAY YES! SAY YES!”
And for a split second, the voices of the crowd fade away, and my heart tells me to say…
No.
The realization that my immediate answer isn’t “yes” shoots through me like lightning.
My chest tightens and my throat closes up as the voices around me fade away.
And just as quickly, I push against that knee-jerk reaction.
Why would I say no? What’s wrong with me?
I’ve been with Zach for ten years. Our families are closer than friends. Of course this is what I want.
But something flickers in the back of my mind—this sense that things aren’t quite right. That having fifty thousand people waiting for my answer is too much pressure. That something about Zach is giving me pause.
And that’s scary.
The voices of the crowd come roaring back into my ears. “SAY YES! SAY YES! SAY YES!” And that’s the push I need to recover my senses. Of course I want to marry Zach. I love him. We’ve been together for so long. There’s no answer other than “yes.”
I blink down at Zach, who seems nervous that I’m taking so long to respond. I give him a big grin and say, “Yes!”
Zach looks instantly relieved and stands, pulling me up with him and wrapping me in a huge hug before planting a kiss on my lips. The crowd goes wild. All the spectators break into a cheer, our parents included. I can’t believe it—we’re actually going to get married.
He pulls back and smiles at the crowd, pumping his fist in the air. “Finally, my first success!” he cries, and no one understands except for me and our parents, otherwise I’d be totally embarrassed.
The kiss cam finally moves on to someone else, and I can breathe a little better. Fifty thousand people watching is a lot, not to mention the fact that this was broadcast on TV.
Oh, my goodness. Everyone at home saw Zach propose.
Ryan saw Zach propose.
Zach pulls the ring out of the box, and I watch as he slips it on my finger. My mouth drops open. The stone is HUGE, with a halo of tiny gems around it. It’s not the style I would have chosen for myself, but it must have cost a fortune.
“How did you…” I look up at Zach, wanting to ask how in the world he was able to afford this ring when he can’t even save up enough money to move out of his parents’ house. A realization pops into my head, and hope fills my chest. “Did you sell the app?”
“Oh, no,” he says, waving me off. “The app is still a long way off from being done.” He holds my hand and admires the ring, then looks up at me with a proud grin. “It’s not a real diamond. Even better, right? That way, if you lose it, we’ll only be out a couple hundred bucks.”
As I look back down at the ring, disappointment washing over me, Zach leans over our moms and gives his dad a high-five.
I wish I didn’t resent him for buying a fake ring.
But it looks ridiculous on my finger, and I would rather have a simple ring—even just a gold band—than this fake stone.
Gaudy and ostentatious are not typically words I use to describe my style. Neither is this proposal, to be honest.
But we’re engaged. Finally. We can start planning our lives together, and soon enough we’ll be promised as man and wife.
So I just smile back at him. “That’s great.” I sit back in my seat, still staring at the ring, and my mom squeezes me around the shoulders in a huge hug.
“Can you believe it?” she squeals.
I lean my head on her shoulder. “I didn’t expect this at all.”
Julie reaches over my mom to grab my hand. “I’m so excited to have a daughter!”
I squeeze her hand and beam at her. She’s going to make a great mother-in-law. I already know it. Our dads are engaged in some man-hug, thrilled that they’re going to officially be family, and I know that saying yes was the right decision.
I pull out my phone, waiting to see if Ryan will send me a text saying congratulations. When minutes pass and there’s no message, I feel a slight twinge of disappointment.
For some reason, his silence seems even louder than the crowd’s cheers.