Only one way to find out.
10
Lila
Out of all the guys I’d matched with on Tinder in the past week, only one of them came close to interesting me. His name was Kyle, he was my age, and he was ruggedly handsome. I put extra effort into preparing for our date on Saturday. A little more makeup, and an extra ten minutes teasing my hair until I was practically preening in the mirror. He’d chosen to meet at Margaret’s, a fancy little boutique restaurant that meant he was serious about our date. A good sign from the start.
But thirty seconds into our date, I realized it was a waste of time.
“I’m a myrmecologist,” he explained in a monotonous tone that would have put a classroom full of students to sleep. “That means I study ants. Ant colonies really are quite fascinating, once you learn about their hierarchical structure and mating patterns. For example, did you know that worker ants are all female? Male ants are used exclusively for breeding with the queen.”
“Lucky lady,” I said with a suggestive grin.
The joke went right over Kyle’s head. “Not lucky. Not luckyat all. The amount of energy required for a queen ant to lay eggs is astronomical…”
I put on my fake smile and nodded along. We’d had chemistry while texting, but clearly that didn’t translate to in-person interactions.
Normally, when a date was going well, I put my phone on silent. Obviously, I didn’t do that tonight, so when my phone buzzed in my clutch, I quickly reached for it.
“Sorry, let me check this real quick,” I said. “I’m waiting to hear back from another professor about a class I might have to teach this summer.”
My poker face slipped when I saw the text.
Unknown: I’ve tried apples, then oranges. Want to give me a hint as to what fruit I should give you next? Or does it turn you on when I waste food?
“Is everything okay?” Kyle asked. He sounded boring even while trying to seem concerned.
“I think so…” I said, texting him back.
Me: Jace? How did you get my cell number?
Jace: It’s on the syllabus. I assumed it was your office number, though. It’s really generous of you to allow students to contact you at home.
Me: I’m an excellent professor. You shouldn’t be contacting me.
Jace: What if I have a question about the paper that’s due Monday?
Me: Do you?
Jace: No. But I can think of one as an excuse if it means you’ll keep texting me.
“Sorry about that,” I told Kyle while putting my phone away. “False alarm.”
“I could never be a professor,” Kyle replied. “Teaching the same courses every semester, year after year? I would go crazy with boredom.”
“Yeah, I bet,” I said dryly.
“Myrmecology always keeps me on my toes. Every ant colony I study is different. Last autumn, right before the monsoon season, we discovered a colony that was over fourthousandsquare meters in size! Can you imagine the logistics required to feed a colony that size?”
“I can’t imagine, no.”
My phone kept buzzing, but I ignored it until we were halfway through the main course. Kyle got up to use the restroom, and before he had even walked away, I was reaching for my phone.
Jace: What are you up to tonight? Catching up on Stranger Things?
Jace: Let me know when you’ve seen the finale. I have opinions.
Jace: Ugh I want to spoil so much for you right now. You’re very lucky I’m a nice guy.
