Chapter 18
Ryan
This past weekend was such a letdown. The engagement party on Friday was depressing, and then I had another date on Saturday.
I felt less of a connection on this date than on the date with Rena.
She is vegan—not that there’s anything wrong with that—but she lectured me on chicken farms and dairy farms and shamed me for eating honey, all while I was trying to eat my steak with garlic butter.
Look, eat however you want. But don’t ruin my dinner.
We parted amicably, because I’m a gentleman. I texted Chase immediately afterwards and told him that was a huge miss.
Me
Dude, she would not stop talking about how she’s vegan, and she kept lecturing me about how I’m killing helpless souls.
Chase
You know what’s worse than a vegan?
I pause for a moment at his text.
Me
No, what?
Chase
A vegan who does CrossFit.
I snort a laugh at his joke.
Me
True. You’d never hear the end of it.
Chase
I’ll do better next time, I promise.
I’m supposed to have lunch with him tomorrow, so maybe he’ll let me know about his next plans for my dating life then. But I’m getting less optimistic about my dating future.
I texted Claire on Monday morning and canceled our tutoring center meeting this week because I was tired of the emotional roller coaster. Claire sent back a sad face but didn’t ask questions.
After my office hours today—which I again held in the library, because I still don’t want to face Claire more than necessary—I head to my office to organize some papers. It’s been too long since I cleaned my file cabinet and figured out what to do with all my students’ worksheets.
I walk in and wave at Grace and Betsy. Grace flashes me a huge smile. “Ryan! We miss you around here.”
“Thanks, Grace. Just easier to herd all my students in the library instead of my cubicle.”
She nods. “I understand.”
Betsy looks up from her computer, a scowl on her face. “I don’t mind. It’s better that we’re not flooded with all these females who don’t know how to solve an equation.”
Grace’s eyebrows fly up her forehead, and I stifle a laugh.
“You know there’s more to my students than ‘all those females,’” I say.
Betsy scoffs and looks back at her computer.
Liam Patel emerges from the back offices, eager to join in on any negative conversation where I’m concerned. “It’s not just that they’re females. It’s that they’re pretending they don’t know how to solve equations.”
“And how many students do you have in your office hours, Liam?” I fire back.
“None,” he retorts with a sly smile on his lips. “Because I teach them thoroughly during lecture.”
Lies. No one can teach their classes so thoroughly that they never have questions outside of class. When I was in college, my best teachers’ office hours were always packed with students.
But I don’t say that to Liam. All he cares about are test scores and pass rates, even if they don’t master the material.
I can’t explain how many times students come into my class completely lost, complaining that they passed Liam’s class with flying colors but don’t know any of the foundational material to pass my class.
To which I have to tell them I’m sorry and I will try to fill in the gaps as much as possible.
There’s no response I can make that’s worth my time or energy, so I just head back to my desk, exasperated with Liam and annoyed that it’s time to organize.
I love teaching and interacting with students.
What I don’t love is annoying clerical business and filing papers.
But every now and then, the tornado of paperwork gets out of control, even for my tolerance, and it must be addressed.
And now is one of those times. I reach my cubicle and survey the disaster, letting out a big sigh.
Setting my bag on the ground, I get to work.
Ten minutes of organizing pass slowly, but I’m able to throw away about half the mess and file the rest. Under a stack of papers, I find one of Claire’s sticky notes from last fall.
What do you call an adventurous number?
A roamin’ numeral.
I hold the pink paper in my hand and look at the trash can on the ground next to me. Toss or keep?
My fingers crumple the note into a fist, but my eye catches the drawer to my left, full of sticky notes just like this one. I open the drawer and sift through the notes, the reminders of all the times Claire thought of something that would make me laugh, even when we weren’t together.
There is a fine line between a numerator and a denominator, but only a fraction would understand.
What do you call more than one L?
A parallel.
What is the best way to serve pi?
A la mode. Anything else is mean.
Happy Pi Day! Can’t wait for lunch!
Pi Day. Claire’s favorite day of the year, March 14. That note is from almost exactly one year ago, with this year’s Pi Day coming up again next week.
For the last three years, Claire and I have gone out to lunch on Pi Day and gotten a celebratory slice of pie. She gets chocolate silk, and I get Dutch apple. We sit and chat about life and math, and it’s one of my favorite days of the year, too.
But we shouldn’t do that this year, right? Even if Claire thinks it’s okay with her and Zach, it’s NOT okay for my heart. I can’t keep teasing myself with these moments with her, glimpses of what life would be like if she were mine.
That’s it. I need to throw them away.
I’m about the throw the crumpled sticky note in the trash can when my phone rings. It’s Kai, my best friend from Maui. I set the wrinkled note on my desk and click to answer the call.
“Kai, dude!” I say, holding the phone up to my ear. “How’s it going?”
“Amazing, bro,” he replies. Just the sound of his voice brings a smile to my face. “You’d love these waves.”
“Yeah, rub it in, why don’t you,” I say, hoping my smirk comes across in my voice.
“You know I have to,” he says with a laugh. “You belong here, not in stuffy OC. With me, your mom, and the perfect waves.”
“This is home,” I reply. It’s mostly true, even though I spent those few years in Maui with my mom and Kai before college.
And Claire is here, I think.
But is that a reason to stay here now?
“Besides, I’ve got a great job here,” I add.
“Yeah about that… How would you feel about teaching at Haleakala Community College?”
“Teaching in Hawaii?” I lower my voice in case someone—like Liam—is lurking and eavesdropping. “Sounds incredible. But they weren’t hiring when I was looking.”
“They are now.”
Huh. Okay. That’s an interesting piece of information.
Three years ago, I would’ve killed for a spot at Haleakala CC.
It was my dream. But, as expected, jobs in Hawaii are even harder to come by than in Southern California.
And since they didn’t have an opening when Coastal Vista offered me a coveted position, of course I said yes.
Which is a decision I’ve never regretted because of Claire. Plus, I’m still close to the ocean. It’s not like I took a job in Kansas. Just the thought of living that far from the water makes me shudder.
Hawaii, though… Warm water year-round, perfect climate, easygoing vibe…
But no Claire.
And yet…is that the change I need?
Kai interprets my silence as pensive contemplation. “I’m gonna text you the link to the application. Think about it.”
“All right. I will.”
We chat for another few minutes. After we hang up, I click the link Kai sent.
Sure enough, Haleakala Community College has an opening for a full-time math professor.
I’m more than qualified, and I can reuse my letters of recommendation from three years ago.
They’d understand why I can’t inform my current department that I’m contemplating a new position.
But my first instinct is to say no, I can’t leave. Because of Claire.
But Claire is moving on with her life, so why shouldn’t I? I can’t wait for something I’m not sure I’ll ever have.
I look over at the sticky notes in my drawer, then back at my phone. What harm is there in filling out an application? I’ll fill it out tonight. And as for the sticky notes…
I slide the crumpled note into the drawer with the other notes and close it shut. I’ll worry about that decision another day.
Two days later, I’m done with my work and heading out to my car when I hear Claire’s voice behind me.
“Ryan! Hey!” she shouts.
I’ve successfully avoided her so far this week, but I couldn’t have expected it to last forever. I turn and paste on a grin. “Hey, Claire.”
“I haven’t seen you all week!” She reaches me, puffing out her breaths. “We really need to get back to the tutoring center.”
“Yeah, sorry, this week has been crazy.” I’d put in the application for Haleakala Community College after talking to Kai on Tuesday evening, and I’ve become more settled in the possibility of leaving here…
and Claire. Just a few more months here in SoCal, and even if the job in Maui doesn’t work out, maybe I’ll just quit and take some time off to figure out what else I could do.
So why bother spending all this time on the tutoring center if I’m just going to leave?
It’s not fair, because I truly do love my job and my students. And although Kai teases me about stuffy Orange County, I don’t mind it at all. But I don’t know how I’m going to move on from Claire if I keep seeing her every day.
“How are you?” Claire asks. The light from the setting sun catches her hair, making it redder than usual. Her gray-green eyes sparkle at me, and my breath catches in my throat. Does she look at Zach like this?
I swallow and shove my hands in my pockets. “Good, good. Gave my Calc class an exam this week, so I’ve been busy with grading and everything. Organizing my office. You know, the usual.”
“I did notice your desk looked cleaner than usual.” She smirks. “Must have taken you forever.”
I shrug. “It had to be done.”
She holds my gaze and grins. “So, should we meet next week for the tutoring center?”
“I dunno. I’ll get back to you on Monday.”
She presses her lips together, discomfort evident in her features. “Okay.” She lingers an extra moment. Why isn’t she leaving? She gives me a nervous glance. “So, what are you doing this weekend?”
“Going on a date tomorrow,” I say quickly. Chase set me up on another date, swearing this time he’d found the perfect girl for me. I didn’t miss his emphasis on the word perfect, but I’m not sure what that meant.
Maybe I should’ve been more casual about the way I said it to Claire, but I’m tired of this dance between us. Besides, it’s better to rip off the Band-Aid than drag this out. She needs to get the point. Even if we “reconciled” last week, things are going to be different between us.
Her eyes flash with the same emotion as the first time I told her I was dating—surprise? Disappointment? Jealousy? Not jealousy, I tell my heart. Stop getting your hopes up. Move on with your life.
And then she recovers. “Nice. That should be fun. I’m going wedding dress shopping with my mom.”
It almost feels like she’s trying to one-up me. Well, don’t worry, Claire. You’ve already dug the knife in by wearing that rock on your finger. “That should be fun, too.”
She nods, the awkwardness settling deep over both of us. “All right. Well. Have a good weekend.”
“Yep. You, too.” I open my car door and let myself in. I watch her walk away in my rearview mirror and tell myself this is what we need. This is good for me. I’m fine. I’m moving on.