Page 2 of Ten Years and Then…
Daniel, August 31
All summer, Daniel had told himself he wouldn’t get down over being single. He wouldn’t think—obsess, really—about being lonely. He wouldn’t be jealous when he saw friends and classmates pairing off and going on dates, laughing together, smiling together, going back to an empty dorm room together.
His resolve lasted three days, until he saw Phil Jensen and Jeannette Morgan walking out of Phil’s room down the hall at eight o’clock in the morning. Together. Holding hands.
It wasn’t that he had a crush on Jeannette or anything. Sure, she was pretty, nearly as tall as he was, with long dark hair maybe half a shade lighter than his own. But he’d never given her much thought one way or the other. It was more that Phil had somehow made a connection with her three days into the semester.
Phil, who, objectively, didn’t dress any better than Daniel, didn’t look any more handsome than Daniel, and absolutely wasn’t any less of a geek than Daniel was.
It was one thing seeing preppy guys with money and charisma to spare having luck with girls. It stung to see someone who was just like him having that same luck. Why Phil and not him?
He had to stop thinking that way. Aside from the fact that it made him seem desperate, it was just crappy in general. Phil deserved good things as much as anyone else, even if he did snore and receive regular shipments of foul-smelling baked goods.
Fine, he’d lapsed into crappy thinking. But he could change that, couldn’t he? Next time he saw Phil alone, he’d say something like “I saw you with Jeannette. Good for you!” and he’d try to actually mean it. Or maybe just saying it was enough to start with. If he said the right things often enough, maybe his thoughts would change too, and he wouldn’t have to try and mean what he said—he just naturally would.
Nora, September 4
It was another late night, another attempt at tiptoeing into her dorm room without waking Kim up. But this time, Nora wondered if she should. Because this time nothing happened.
She left before it could happen.
Before, the girl she didn’t want to be anymore would just go along with whatever a blond-haired junior with no roommate and too much confidence wanted to do.
She didn’t owe Kim any explanations. She didn’t owe anything to anyone, except herself.
That was it, right there. That was the secret, wasn’t it? That was the thing that she needed to remember. It didn’t matter what anybody else thought of her. It didn’t make a difference if they were disappointed in her, or if they judged her, or if they called her names or any of it.
It only mattered if she was disappointed in herself. Tonight, she wasn’t. And that felt fantastic.
Daniel, September 5
Once the semester officially started, it got easier for Daniel to keep his promise to think better—less jealous—thoughts. All of his classes were interesting, especially Introduction to Operating Systems with his advisor, Professor Maddox.
He’d managed to impress the man three times just in the first week. After the third time, Professor Maddox asked him to come to his office.
“Mr. Keller,” he’d said, peering at Daniel through his unfashionable—even Daniel could see they were terrible—bifocal glasses. “You know I advise a dozen students, so I apologize for not always giving each of you as much attention as you deserve. It’s clear that I’ve been remiss with you in particular.”
Daniel wasn’t sure what that meant. “Sir?”
“I was just looking over your transcript, and I spoke to several of your teachers from last year. You are a talented young man. If I’d paid attention sooner, I would have offered you a position over the summer in the lab downstairs. What’s done is done, but I can correct my oversight moving forward.”
Wait—was this a job offer?
“Thank you, sir. I think.”
His advisor smiled; well, as much as Daniel had ever seen the man smile, anyway. “Thanks would be appropriate. I’d like to offer you a position as a lab assistant for this semester. It would be unpaid for now, but assuming you continue your excellent work, I think we could pay you something in the spring semester.”
It was all Daniel could do to keep from shouting in triumph. They didn’t have to pay him—just working in the lab would be more than enough. He’d learn a ton, and he could put it on his resume, too.
“Yes, sir. I accept! And thank you.”
He might not have a girlfriend, or much of a social life. But he had an advisor—a respected expert in the field—who wanted to hire him. He had a head start on the future he came to college to try and build. That was more than good enough.
It was pretty darn great, actually.
Chapter 2
September and October—Albion College
