Page 14 of The Odds of Happily Ever After
Don’t forget to have a life.
Gabe
You never said that before Jason came along.
Tala
Yes, well. People change.
I stepped insidethe office and closed the door behind me. As an adjunct professor, I shared the space with three people, which was far from my ideal scenario. Fortunately, we had differing schedules for the most part, and I often only had to deal with one other person occupying the room.
At the moment, I had it to myself—a relief after the chaos that was the cafeteria.
Going there at the peak of lunch service was the worst decision I’d made in a while, and not one I planned to repeat soon.
I placed my satchel on my usual desk and sat, mentally reviewing my task list for the day. Just as I unlatched my bag, the door swung open.
There went my moment of peace and quiet.
“Gabe!” Max Thorpe strolled into the office with a wide grin on his face. “I was hoping to run into you here,” he said as he dropped his backpack on the floor next to me.
Five empty workstations in the room, and he always had to choose the one beside mine.
“I’ve had the same schedule these past four years,” I muttered.
He plopped into the chair and kicked his legs out. “Not true. You swapped classes with me, remember?”
I pressed my lips together. How could I forget? When we received our class list at the start of this semester, Luna’s name was in my Finance 101 section. I’d never asked for an assignmentchange in my entire career, but I went straight to our dean to request one. “It was a single class.”
Max shrugged. “It still counts. Who knows, this might be the year you’ll switch things up even more.”
Not likely. Once was enough, and it still irked me that I had ruined my record.
I reached for my tablet to check on my lesson plan. After teaching the same two classes for years, I had them memorized—particularly the one I’d served as a graduate teaching assistant for. But I used it as an excuse to avoid further conversation with Max.
“So, have you decided yet?” Max asked.
My finger paused mid-scroll. “The answer hasn’t changed,” I said without looking at him.
“One day it will. Until then, I’ll keep asking.”
To his credit, Max was persistent, but then, you had to be in order to obtain a PhD. We’d known each other since our master’s program, and we’d both gone on to pursue our doctorate degrees.
At least, up until last year, when I hit a block in the research portion and decided to take a hiatus.
I switched to my email app, trying to ignore the prickly weight of Max’s stare on the side of my face. Why couldn’t he take the hint that I didn’t want to talk? When had I ever given him a sign that I wanted to?
Such a grump, a female voice tinkled in my memory.
Damn it.
Glancing up from my screen, I met Max’s expectant stare and sighed. “How’s your dissertation?”
His eyes lit up, and he beamed. “I’m so glad you asked.”
He launched into a discussion of digital assets, and the more he spoke, the more I dreaded rejoining the program. I’d had no concerns about the lectures and coursework and completedthem without issue. The research and writing, however? Those were entirely different.
They were just soboring.
