Sylvia's phone made a swooping noise as she set it on the counter. "Exactly. Which can be easily remedied."
Megs' phone vibrated in her pocket. She pulled it out and found a message from her mom on the screen.
"It's three hundred and fifty dollars total for the certification, and you'd only need three weekends of classes at Champlain Community. With that, you could get a job anywhere, even if you hate the idea of working in town. You could probably work virtually if you wanted."
Megs stared at the screen, the words swimming before her eyes like fish darting in the shallows.Medical coding certification. September fifteenth."That's this Friday night."
"It’s last minute, but they still have spots. I checked."
A part of Megs wanted to recoil, to reject the notion of sitting in class and willingly learning long strings of insurance codes. But another part, the part that was tired of scraping by and disappointing her mother, yearned to want this. To be the good, practical daughter who saidthis is a rational, intelligent, simple decision, and of course I’ll do it!
"If you complete the certification, I'll pay your first month's rent and security deposit." Her mother spun on her heel and exited the room, leaving her glass of half-drunk iced coffee collecting condensation on the counter.
Three
Gideon stoodat the front of the classroom, his tortoiseshell glasses perched on the bridge of his nose as he scribbled a final note on the whiteboard. He'd taught Introduction to Audio Engineering every semester for the past four years, which meant he was mostly on autopilot. This semester, he'd added 'Learning DAWs' and 'Recording Techniques' to his class load, and he already felt like a drained battery.
It was the second week of classes.
"Alright," he announced, turning to face the fifteen students lined up in haphazard rows before him. "That wraps up today's class. Remember, your assignments are due this weekend. Don't wait until the last minute, and because I know you will, make sure you have access to good wifi on Sunday night."
A chorus of groans, chuckles, and laptops snapping closed echoed through the room, but Gideon's mind was already wandering to his ultimate frisbee game over the lunch hour. Thank the gods for Friday. He was itching to get outside and throw a disc.
Two students chattered excitedly at the back table, and asone of them passed over an earbud to share their recording, Gideon couldn’t help but smile. Those moments were what made teaching worth it. When his students were so proud of a track they’d created, they couldn’t wait to share.
It was exactly what he'd done at their age before he'd realized killer tracks didn't pay the bills. In high school, he’d spent hours on the weekend with his friends, brainstorming and writing songs. Then, in college, he’d spent hours mixing and producing samples. Inspiration had flowed like water from a tap.
Gideon gazed at his half-empty coffee cup, the fading foam swirling into a murky abyss mirroring his own bleak creative existence.Wow.He needed to get out more. That or start taking a stab at writing lyrics again. That was always Matt’s job but with morose prose like that running through his head . . . He rubbed a hand over his face and gathered his things.
"Professor?"
He looked up to see one of his students lingering by the door. A pretty brunette with long legs. She leaned against the frame as if striking a pose for a selfie.
Gideon dropped his eyes. "Hey, Jennifer." She’d been the first one to class and the last to leave for the past two lectures. Her eyes brightened at the sound of her name, and he cleared his throat. "What can I help you with?"
"Actually, I was wondering if you could show me some of your personal work sometime?" Her voice dripped with honey. "I learn better bydoing." She pressed her cherry-glossed lips together, and Gideon couldn't help but notice Jennifer's friends waiting for her in the hall, giggling and whispering to each other.
Gideon shoved a hand in his pocket and exhaled. It had only taken until the fourth class this time. A new record. "I don't share my personal work with students unless I use an example in class."
"I found one of your samples!" A blond called from the hall. "It was used on Kameleon's single ‘Need You’—you're in the credits!"
Gideon nodded. His samples had been purchased regularly once, but it wasn't often they showed up in projects his students would recognize. He didn’t know how to feel about them finding his work out in the wild.
"Totally get it, Professor!" Jennifer somehow drew her mouth simultaneously into a smile and a pout. She waved goodbye and sauntered out to join her friends, leaving Gideon gripping the strap of his messenger bag.
Gideon waited a moment, then exhaled and walked to the back of the classroom to shut off the lights. If only he got this much attention from women his own age. Or women whom he wouldn't get fired for flirting with. Apparently, he tracked well with eighteen-year-old girls and eighty-five-year-old women. If his grandmother's friends' insistence on kissing his cheek and running their hands up and down his arms each time he visited her in the nursing home was any indication.
He shuddered and closed the door, then strode down the hall toward the staff lounge. He hadn’t gone far when his phone buzzed in his pocket. Gideon pulled it out to find a text message from his friend Matt.
Hey G! Heard about my audiobook narrator competition? Might be right up your alley…
??????
Gideon shookhis head at the string of smiley face emojis. If people could see Matt the way he did, they wouldn't be as obsessed with him and his steamy romance novels. Well, that might not be true.They'd probably find him down-to-earth and only fall more in love with him.
Matt had adopted 'Oscar Calloway' years ago, and his public persona lived up to the suave pen name. He was smooth. Charming. Wavy blond hair, cornflower blue eyes, and a purposeful five o'clock shadow left more than high school graduates and octogenarians swooning. But to Gideon, he was still that goofy high school bandmate who stuffed whole burritos in his mouth and wrote his best lyrics when he had an insatiable crush on Melinda Stapely.
Thanks for the heads-up, but you know acting has never been my thing.
