I’ve gota little slip of paper in my hand. The student at the registrar’s office didn’t ask questions. I told her I was late to Jake Warren’s class and couldn’t remember what room it was in.
She didn’t check for a student ID or anything. She just gave me the information. Good thing I’m not some maniac, I guess.
Jake’s in one of those classic auditorium-style classrooms, with desks in rows up stairs. I slide into a table in the last row, somewhat incognito because I have on a ball cap, sweatshirt, and jeans. I fight the clench in my stomach when he puts on some glasses to read off his screen.
I didn’t even know he had glasses.
I love him, and he never told me he had glasses. Maybe all of this was too fast. That’s the weird intensity that comes with being in extremely close proximity with someone. You’re on this fantasy island, separated from society, isolated from everything.
Of course you fall in love with the closest eligible partner. I should be thanking my lucky stars that the closest eligible partner was him.
Jake is extraordinary. He’s compassionate and funny, tough and thoughtful. Faithful.
I’m lucky to have gotten to love him.
So when he says, “Okay, I think that’s everything for today. See y’all Thursday,” a cold sweat breaks out over my body.
He answers a few questions for individual students, bending over the table to draw something on their paper. I blend in, fidgeting with my stuff. When the last student is headed up the stairs, he finally catches my eye.
He smiles and looks shy at the same time. “Hey, you. Do you have a sudden interest in engineering?”
I smirk, coming down the steps to where he’s packing up his bag. “Just engineering TAs with slutty little glasses.”
He chuckles, those fucking dimples popping. “Is that what they are? Slutty?”
“When you look that good in something, it’s slutty.”
He puts a hand to his cheek in mock shock. “Stop objectifying me, Miss Rossetti.”
I’ve made it to stand in front of him, and he loops his arms around my waist, dipping to kiss me. I savor it, savor him, because I know what I’m about to do. “This is a nice surprise,” he mumbles against my lips. “Looking for some teacher-student roleplay? I think this classroom’s empty for another half hour or so.”
He pulls back, clocks the look on my face, and goes stiff. “Oh, shit.”
“Jake,” I start, but he already knows.
He pulls off his glasses and folds them up, pinching the bridge of his nose in his thumb and forefinger. “Why?”
I flex my jaw, searching for the words I practiced in the truck on the way here. “It’s too hard for me to see you all the time knowing you’re leaving in a few months.”
He tosses a hand out. “Who said I’m leaving?”
I cock my head to the side, begging for some sort of mercy and understanding with my eyes. “There aren’t a ton of robotics jobs around here. I looked.”
“That doesn’t mean I’m going to leave,” he argues.
“Jake, I can’t hold you back.”
“Hold me back?” I’ve never heard him this mad. Even when he punched Rob, his voice was cool and even.
“I think they’re leaving me the farm. I can’t move.”
“Okay,” he says, throwing his hands out again until they slap his thighs. “So, we’re both here, then.”
“You said you didn’t want farm life when we talked about your family’s farm,” I point out.
He shrugs. “Things have changed. I fell in love with you. Work is just work.”
“Says the guy who said he’s never been gainfully employed.” I say it and immediately regret the words.
