We left the building and walked to Subway. I ordered a chicken teriyaki sub, chips, and a juice. Then we went to a park nearby and sat on a bench. I told him about my worries and fears, my personal situation, and where I actually saw myself in coming years.
Professor Cook listened to me while he ate, giving the impression he understood.
“You must think I’m making a huge mistake…”
He took a deep breath, balling up his napkin.
“Harper, you’re one of the best students I’ve had in all my years of teaching. I know for certain that you would have a bright future as a researcher. Your paper on the feminine image in medieval Spanish literature was brilliant. Your study on censorship in your second year knocked me off my feet. If you go into publishing, you’ll bring a new vision with you, one we all need at a time when rushing things to the market means every book turns out the same. You remember that when we talked about that in class, I found your analysis of it very sharp. And yet…” He paused for a moment. “And yet, I don’tthink you’re making a mistake. University is a place you come to learn what your dreams are, to start understanding your goals. If you want to write, Harper, write. The world needs more minds like yours, sensitive, critical, and people will want to know your thoughts. All of us need to find our place in the world. If that’s yours, you need to go for it.”
I was deeply relieved, and I smiled at him, and he smiled back. We said our goodbyes not long afterward, and I walked to the registrar’s office to officially resign from the program.
Later, I went to the publisher. Simon & Schuster was on 166 King Street East, thirty minutes away on foot—a long but necessary walk to shake off my nerves. I was so lost in thought, still tossing over everything Professor Cook had said, that I hardly realized I’d made it there until I saw the offices in front of me. I climbed the steps and walked through the door. My heart always skipped a beat when my feet touched that blue and yellow carpet. I walked toward Ryan Radcliffe’s office. His assistant, Gwen, was sitting at her desk.
“Harper!” she said when she saw me.
“Hey, Gwen, how are you?”
“Good, thanks. Busy as ever, but you know how things go around here.” I nodded. They were always going full-speed, but the collegial atmosphere made up for the pressure. “What about you? We’ve missed you here. Especially Ryan. You were spoiling him.”
“Sorry. I needed time to work out some things.”
“Don’t mention it. I understand. It’s not easy, losing someone you love that much.”
“Is Ryan in his office?”
“Yeah, I’ll tell him you’re here.”
Gwen lifted the receiver and dialed his number. Seconds later, Ryan Radcliffe opened the door to his office.
“Harper, come in.”
He invited me to sit down and took his place behind his desk.
“I’m happy to have you back. How…how are you?”
“A lot better, thanks.”
“I’m glad to hear it. We sent flowers for the funeral. I hope you got them.”
“I did. They were gorgeous. Thank you.”
“It’s nothing. You’ve found your place here. You’re one of us now.”
Oh God! This was going to be harder than I’d hoped. I blinked to stop myself from crying. “Ryan, I need to tell you something…”
I didn’t go into details. I didn’t even tell him I was planning to become a writer. I wasn’t completely honest in that moment, and I don’t know why. I used my family as an excuse and said I needed to start over close to them. In his face, I could see he didn’t understand me, but he knew there was nothing he could do to change my mind.
I handed him a stick drive with all my work finished and tried to tell him all it had meant for me to be part of his team and how much I had learned in my months there.
As soon as I was outside, I had to lean against the wall to catch my breath. I’d gotten past my insecurities, but that didn’t mean they were gone forever, and the symptoms now were coming back to haunt me. I looked up in the sky and sucked in as much air as I could. I’d done it. I’d said goodbye to my present and to what I’d always thought would be my future to try to become the person I thought I could be.
I was out of my mind.
I started laughing, so hard I had to sit on the ground. The people walking past must have thought I had utterly lost it.
The sun was starting to dip behind the buildings, and the cool air raised goose bumps on my skin. I bought a burrito from a food truck on the corner. I left the bag on my kitchen counter when I got home and changed into a pair of sweatpants and a ratty T-shirt. I opened all the windows to air out the apartment, which smelled of dust anddamp. Then I sat on the fire escape with my phone and dialed Trey’s number.
I waited impatiently for him to pick up. On the fourth tone, I heard the following:I’m sorry, the number you have dialed is not in service, unless you are a wonderful and very sexy girl I’d love to have on my sofa right now.
