Chapter 26

Chapter Twenty-Six

Diego

HOW DID I MANAGE to make this worse?

I didn't reply when Avery said they love me, and it was the wrong thing to do. I did say something to them today, and that seemed like the wrong thing to do as well. What the hell is the right answer here?

I'm more confused than ever by the time Avery leaves my office. Their crumbled, discarded essay lies on the floor, and I pick it up and smooth it out on my desk. I know there's digital copies, but it seems a shame to throw thoughts and words this brilliant on the ground like trash.

I sit behind my desk with that paper, my conversation with Avery replaying in my head. They seemed so mad, so hurt, and all because I wanted to talk about their academic career. Is it because of what I didn't say the other night? Would they rather I say nothing? They seem to grow restless any time I go quiet. I thought I was doing the right thing by staying in contact instead of hiding from them like I might have in the past.

I groan and cradle my head in my hands. How am I getting this so wrong no matter what I do? Casually dating guys who live five towns over did not prepare me for any of this. Despite their youth, it's Avery who feels like the experienced, worldly one here.

I'll think of some way to fix this. Maybe I can explain that I don't want them to squander their opportunities. That backfired today, but maybe with a little more time, I can get Avery to understand.

I snap my laptop shut and start packing up my things. I'm supposed to be here for another hour, but no one but Avery ever comes by, and it's obvious all I'm going to do is think about them. Better to do that at home if all I'm going to accomplish tonight is wallowing.

It's a short drive from campus back to my apartment. I could walk it, as I've walked home from Avery's house every time, but the days are getting colder and wetter, and the forecast called for rain today. Sure enough, by the time I spot the apartment complex, thick drops patter against my windshield. I park and rush up the steps and inside, hugging my bag to my chest to protect my laptop.

Leo isn't home, likely at a class or doing his own office hours. That's fine by me. I dump my stuff on the couch and drag myself through a shower. The warm water doesn't clear my head, but it makes me feel a little calmer about the mess I've somehow made. I took one tangle of emotions and snarled them up in a new one, creating a knot I can't even begin to unpick.

After my shower, I make myself a microwaveable meal covered in plastic. It's probably full of chemicals, but it tastes alright and I don't have the energy for better, so I sit on the floor with my back against the couch, turn on the TV and eat, barely seeing the old comedy autoplaying in front of me.

"Wow, bad day?" Leo says when he comes in.

It could have been an hour. It could have been four. I've been so busy replaying that conversation in my office that I have no idea. The microwaveable meal is cold on the coffee table and my back is starting to ache, so I assume it's been more than a few minutes.

"It was a normal day," I say.

Leo closes the door and tosses his keys on the kitchen counter, then joins me in the living room. He settles on the couch, leaning forward to sniff at my meal. He reels back immediately.

"That shit is gross. Did you really eat that?"

"It wasn't that bad," I say.

"I'm starting to hope you did have a bad day and this isn't actually normal for you."

"It was fine," I say. " I just…"

Leo doesn't know much about my situation with Avery. He knows I left that club with them. He knows I have some sort of complex interaction with a student. He hasn't prodded me for any further details, and I'm not eager to give them, but tonight his nonchalance emboldens me to speak.

"I have this student," I start.

" That student?" Leo says.

"Yes, that student. But this isn't about … whatever's going on there. This is about them as a student. Really," I say, when Leo cocks an eyebrow. "They wrote this paper recently, and it was brilliant. It was incredible. It's like they're taking a completely different class than the rest of the students in that session. Nothing else I graded even came close to the care and research and detail in that paper. I have a feeling that if I let them fill twice as many pages, they would have, and it would have been just as brilliant."

"But?" Leo prompts.

"But that's all this is to them. It's just a paper. Just a class. I asked them to see me during office hours so I could talk to them about their plans for after graduation. They said they're just going to graduate and look for a job."

"Not everyone wants to be a student until they're thirty, Diego."

"I know, I know, but if anyone should keep pursuing this field…"

Leo pats my shoulder. "I know you're super passionate about this. You wouldn't be here if you weren't. But not everyone wants a life in academia. It's grueling. It's thankless. Maybe they have other plans."

"That's the thing," I say. "I don't think they do. I think they're going to graduate and get a job because they've never thought about doing things differently."

"Is that so bad? It's what a lot of people do."

"It isn't bad. I'm not saying it's bad." My words start running out ahead of me, tumbling past my lips before I can temper them. "For most people, it's not bad, but for them, it's a tragedy. They're so brilliant, Leo. They could be taking any of my courses. They could be teaching my class instead of me. I'm not sure I've ever met someone as intelligent as them. And they're going to throw it away when they graduate. All this will become a line on a resume and nothing more. I can't stand thinking about it.

"So I told them that. I asked them what their plans are and told them I think they can do more, but they didn't respond well. They seemed upset. I have no idea how to reach them. I have no idea how to make them see that they can have anything they want. And I just…"

My hands are balled into fists in my lap, my frustration physically biting into my skin as I dig my nails in.

"I want more for them," I say. "I want them to go on and be better than I ever will be. I want them to change the world with that mind of theirs. They could really do it. They could publish in any journal, and it would be the kind of stuff that changes society, the kind of stuff that makes an actual difference. They could take a field that's so new and so fragile and so … so under attack by half the politicians in this country and make it indispensable."

I only realize how long I've gone on once I finally stop. I need to catch my breath, and Leo is watching me with a smile tugging at one side of his mouth. Heat tickles the back of my neck, and I turn my face away before it can climb any higher.

"You really care about this," Leo says.

I nod mutely.

"You really care about them."

This time, I don't even nod. I hold still, my heart in my throat and threatening to spill out of my mouth. I guess it already did, in a way. I thought I was talking about academics, but Leo heard the deeper truth under my gushing description of Avery's intellect and potential. Rewinding the monologue in my head, I hear it too.

Shit. I didn't intend to come out and say that. It happened before I could stop it, and now Leo's grinning at the secret dumped into his lap.

All of me likes you, Avery.

I admitted that what feels like ages ago, and it hasn't changed. If anything, the feeling's intensified the more I've gotten to know them. Yet I haven't been able to take that next step and use that bigger, scarier word.

"I guess," I say. "But I'm still their TA. We're trying to be careful, at least until next semester. Even then, we should probably be cautious. It's not illegal or anything, but the department would not be happy about it."

"I'm sure they wouldn't," Leo says. "Look, I get it, man. I said that from the start. But it sounds like they don't want to hear about their grades from you."

"What else am I supposed to say? We were in my office."

"In your office alone, I assume."

"Sure, but…"

"They want you to let down the defenses," Leo says. "Isn't it obvious? You're there talking about grad school and they're trying to get something real out of you."

"That is real," I say. "I really want that for them. I really care about their future."

"And what about your future?"

That pauses me. "What?"

"You talked to them about a future that takes them far away. Even if it keeps them here in Montridge, it's a future that locks them into some program that you'll complete long before them. You basically told them there's no future for the two of you together, dummy."

"I never said any of that."

"I know," Leo says. "But that's how it sounds . They care about you, and you just said the best thing they can do is go off and be without you. That's kind of cold, don't you think? "

I blink. That's not what I meant to say at all. It's not what I thought I was saying. But when Leo describes it like this, I understand how Avery could get there. And right after they said they loved me and I didn't respond.

Oh, Christ. What have I done?

I fold forward, putting my head in my hands. Leo scoots over on the couch and rubs my back. For a straight guy, he's way too good at all of this.

"They said they love me," I groan into my arms.

Leo's hand stops. "Come again?"

"They said they love me. And I didn't say it back."

"Oh, Diego. Buddy. And you … you had this conversation about grad school shortly afterward?"

I nod, too ashamed to speak. Leo blows out a long breath, his exasperation gusting over me.

"Okay, so, you have some damage control you need to do here," Leo says, "if you want to fix this."

"I do."

"Good. That's step one."

I lift my head. "What's step two through ten?"

Leo's grimace is too sympathetic for my liking. "If this was a girl, I might say flowers and chocolate. I don't know how your person feels about that sort of thing, but it couldn't hurt, right? Whatever it is, it needs to be sincere. You're in deep, dude. You obviously care about them, whatever words you do or don't use for that. How much does that mean to you? "

It means everything.

The answer is obvious and immediate. Fixing things with Avery means absolutely everything to me, and as I sit here hating myself, I suddenly think I might know how to do it. It's not flowers and chocolate, but for Avery, for me, for us , it makes a lot more sense.