Page 97 of Return To You

She closes her eyes, and I suspect it’s to keep the tears in.

“Grace? I love you. You’re the love of my life. I… I want to find a way where I stop hurting you. Stop messing it up. I want to find a way for us.” I just don’t know where it is.

She shuts me up by kissing me again. When she looks up at me, tears are streaking her cheeks. “I love you too. And I’ll say it again. Always have. Always will. No matter where your path takes you.”

“I know.” And she’ll always be my home.

thirty

Ethan

The next day at noon sharp, I roll into the high school. Noah greets me at the door and lets me in. Just like when I went to the Arena, the familiarity and good memories make me smile like silly.

“They’re super excited to see you,” Noah says.

“I am too. It’s so cool you’re their advisor.”

“I mean—super excited,” he emphasizes. “Not all of them could make it, though,” he says, pushing a door open to let me in, “but these are the die-hards.”

Two boys and two girls, who look as if they range from ages thirteen to eighteen, are standing at a table, in a semi-circle facing the door. On the table there’s chips, soda, pizza, paper plates and cups, and colorful paper napkins.

“Welcome to our club,” a third boy who’s not standing says. He maneuvers his wheelchair to swiftly come greet me, extending a strong hand. “Honored to meet you. I’m Zach.”

I shake his hand. “Zach. Wow. I didn’t expect lunch. This is… thanks so much. You didn’t have to do this,” I say as I’m introduced to each one of them.

“It’s the least we could do,” the youngest one says, a boy who looks barely thirteen. He stiffly grabs a paper cup. “What would you like to drink?”

“Why don’t we just sit down,” Noah says. We pull up some chairs, start eating, and the ice breaks. These kids impress me with their questions. They don’t need me to tell them the difference between cryptography and cryptanalysis. No, they jump right in with questions about cryptographic nonce, elliptic curve cryptography, and P vs NP. One of the girls asks me pointed questions about blockchain technology. The other one wants to know what she should study to work for the NSA. The third boy, the quietest, engages me on the software I use. “What do you think kids our age should look into? Like, since we’re the future,” he asks.

Good question. “The future is probably in post-quantum cryptography. Uh… one of the challenges we’re going to face is that quantum algorithms—like Shor’s algorithm—could theoretically break current cryptographic systems. So it wouldn’t hurt if sharp minds like yours got a head start on that.”

They exchange looks that go from excited to downright worried. “Meanwhile, for fun, look at ethical hacking and CTF competitions.” They all nod like this is already what they’re doing.

Which they probably are.

“Are all the jobs in big cities or like… underground in Texas?” Zach, the oldest of the group, asks me.

“They’re everywhere, but—and you know this—nowadays, with a skillset like that, you can work from anywhere. Remote. Maybe not right away when you get started, but down the line? For sure. So, something to think about.”

We talk about different careers, gaming, and growing up in Emerald Creek. I end up staying way longer than I planned, and yet I don’t want to leave.

“Thanks so much, man,” Noah says when he walks me out. “You can’t imagine how much it means to them.”

“They’re great kids. And thanks for lunch,” I add, slapping his shoulder.

“That was all the kids. Their idea, their execution.”

“Awesome.” I look at him for a beat, envious of his life. I almost tell him as much, but I don’t. After all, this could have been my life, if I’d wanted to.

After that, I go to the farm alone.

“No Grace?” Mom asks me as she pecks my cheek tenderly.

I shrug. “We want to take it slow.”

“Well that’s a refreshing change,” Dad says as he walks in.

“Is that what you kids call taking it slow these days?” My younger brother Hunter is holding up a pair of black briefs and a very familiar red bikini.

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