CHAPTER 18
Ryan
This past weekendwas 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’repretendingthey don’t know how to solve equations.”
