Page 87 of Barefoot Lake

“Not that I’m not thrilled to have you here, but what happened on this date that had you running back here? Did Jake freak out about your job?”

I stare up at the ceiling, a smile on my lips at the mere mention of his name.

“The opposite. He said all the right things. He told me that if I want something with him, he’ll be there. He’s willing to try long distance, and if things continue to go well, we’ll figure it out.”

“Are you sure he’s real?”

I look over at her and nod. “He’s very real.”

“So, what’s the problem?”

“I don’t really want to come back to Boston. I wasn’t happy here, and that wasn’t just because of Reid.”

My heart is beating fast like I just did fifty jumping jacks. Looking back at my Boston life, it would seem like I have no reason to be displeased. I was successful at my job, paid well, and respected at a reputable university. I was trusted with big decisions and got along well with my coworkers. I’d “made it” in a huge city, and that city gave me access to incredible restaurants, shows, pop-up art fairs, farmer’s markets, sports teams, music venues, and more.

I feel like I’m waiting for Piper to laugh at me or question whether I’m a moron.

Piper doesn’t laugh, though. And she doesn’t insult me.

“What do you mean?”

She says it gently like she’s coaxing a scared animal out of a corner.

“Maybe it started because Reid made me feel so small and alone, but you’re really the only person I have in Boston. I haven’t spoken to anyone from work since I went on leave. None of them are real friends, even if some are nice work acquaintances. And…”

I pause for a steeling breath.

“I hate my job,” I blurt.

Piper does start at that one.

“What are you talking about? You love teaching!”

“But that’s the problem. I don’t teach anymore. I only have one class in the spring. I’ve almost fully transferred to a department lead role.”

“So why don’t you go back to teaching?” Piper says it like it’s a simple solution, but nothing feels simple about it.

“I’m not sure that I can, or that I should. This is supposed to be the dream. I’m getting very close to being a department head, and it’s happening so much earlier than I ever expected. I feel… guilty for hating it. But I hate it.”

“But why? Why do you feel guilty?” Piper looks truly perplexed, and I question for the first time whether I might be being too hard on myself.

“I feel like I’m not feeling what I’m supposed to. I should be grateful that the school trusts me so much. It also feels like I want to quit because I can’t hack it. Like I can’t handle the pressure or responsibilities, so I’m running back to what was easier.”

Piper furrows her brow.

“But that isn’t what’s happening at all. You can hack it. You just don’t want to. And I’m here to tell you that that’s completely alright.”

I look at her sheepishly.

“Is it, though?”

She throws her arms up.

“Of course it is!”

“I feel like a failure, like a disappointment.” My stomach is twisting itself in knots. Maybe fried food wasn’t such a good idea.

“To who?”