“Architecture.”
“That explains the LEGOs.”
“I like that there’s so much to it,” I said. “You’ve got the engineering side, but then you also have creativity, like design and drawing.”
“What did you want to do as an architect?” Macey smiled when I abandoned the grass to join her against the tree. “Before you had to move home, that is.”
“I wanted to work on residential homes. As a kid, everything in our house was always falling apart. We were fine, but it made me want to learn to design houses that are functional, safe, and look good.”
The issues in our house were never anything that couldn’t be dealt with. Mom did a good job at patch fixing what went wrong, but there were engineering failures present from the start.
More so than ever, I wished I could go back and fix them. If there was a way that I could improve the functionality of homes for kids in need, I’d do it.
“I think that’s wonderful,” said Macey. “Why not pursue that when the social career is done?”
“I never got my degree,” I reminded her. “I doubt Cornell would take me back. And I don’t have much of a desire to move back to New York.”
It was true, but it wasn’t the whole truth. Something deeper kept me tethered, a weight I couldn’t shake. I hated lingering too long on that chapter of my life—college, funeral, and endless frozen casseroles—because it all felt like a giant, unfixable failure.
Logically, I knew I’d built something for myself. Thepaycheck was proof enough. But fulfillment? That had always been just out of reach.
Opportunities to go back and finish my degree had come and gone, but I’d always found excuses to avoid them. It had felt like that door was closed for good.
“Would you be open to doing something similar yet different?” She pressed. “Maybe a local university?”
I hesitated, caught off guard. Most people didn’t ask about my life beyond the surface—the content, the trips, the numbers. They assumed they already knew me, or at least the version of me they saw online. It was rare for someone to want to dig deeper.
And maybe that was why it made me feel a little shy, a little unsteady, to have Macey looking at me like she actuallywantedto hear my answer. Like she wasn’t just humoring me.
Talking to her felt easy in a way I wasn’t used to. There was no need to spin a story or play up a persona. And despite everything she’d thought about me before, she wasn’t dismissing me as just some influencer anymore.
“Maybe,” I said.
Just then, there were cheers in the distance. Craning my neck, I noticed confetti and balloons were being popped, too.
“People are heading to the finish line.” Macey shot up. “C’mon, let’s go greet them.”
As we walked toward the blue-and-white striped banner, I asked the question that had been plaguing me for the last hour. “Why did you really bring me here?”
Eyes trained on the finish line, she answered, “You can’t run right now, so I thought I’d bring the run to you.”
A smile graced my lips of its own accord.
It was exciting to see everyone finish the race, even Bob and the long hug he gave Macey. From under his arms, she winked at me. Together, we handed out snacks and bottles of water. Eventhough I hadn’t run a single second today, I felt like I was on an adrenaline high.
I attempted to get Macey to let me walk her home under the guise of the audience that could see us, but she declined. Multiple times. I didn’t let it faze me. Nothing could ruin the good mood I was in.
It had been a while since I was in such a pleasant headspace. I walked home alone with an extra pep in my step. Honestly, was I in a teen rom-com movie, or what?
Too bad the extra pep didn’t make it all the way to my apartment. In the elevator, I opened my phone to see how many followers Macey gained after posting the photo, already planning a congratulations text message for later.
But instead of love and happy words, all I saw were horrible comments.
He’ll drop you soon enough
She’s not even that pretty
When do you think she’ll get a boob job?
