Chapter Two

Clay

When I went to college and started taking math classes, I was doing so with the intention of becoming a math teacher. I had this vision of graduating, getting a job at some school that really needed me, helping those children achieve their mathematical dreams, and having those who didn't love math fall in love with it.

And then I took my first practicum and realized quickly that as much as I loved math and as much as I loved the idea of working with children, it just wasn't in my skill set. Other people I went to school with walked into those classrooms and instantly connected with the students. They were able to break things down in ways the students understood, and I could just see them come alive. That's who they were meant to be.

But for me? Every day was a struggle. I worked endlessly, trying to come up with perfect lesson plans for the one class a week that I was teaching during that time. Without fail, I missed the mark. The professors were great and tried to encourage me, to give me hints. It was no use. I was in over my head and pretty quickly saw the sad truth: I was many things, but a natural teacher was not one of them. Could I have finished and probably even gotten a job? Yeah. But that wouldn't be fair to the students, and it was for sure not a life I wanted for myself.

Of course, that was junior year, and pivoting from a math education major to something else either meant going to school a lot longer or picking something that used the math credits I already had. When all was said and done, I focused on math and business. Enough of my credits counted toward "electives" or creatively substituted in place of gen eds, thanks to a very helpful advisor, that with only two summer courses, I graduated with my class. It was great. I was offered jobs after school with little effort, but sadly all of them were pretty dead-end.

So when this job opened up and the salary was double what I'd been making—I signed up. It was a little bit of HR with no HR experience required and some accounting. I figured, why not give it a try? At first, I thought I won the jackpot. My boss was a shifter, I got to work alone, and my office was in a gorgeous mansion. Not that I got to see most of it. I had my own entrance and was never offered a tour—quite the opposite. This was my space, and I was to stay in it.

The job involved filing paperwork for employees who seemed to not be able to keep their job as long as I kept mine and also did some basic bookkeeping. It wasn't even true accounting work, just boring old bookkeeping. The work itself was easy peasy, and the money was great, but the longer I was there, the more something felt off. I couldn't quite place what it was, but tiny things added up.

The first thing that rubbed me wrong was that I never met any of the people who worked there or for the company as a whole. I wasn't overly versed in HR-related common practices, but everything I'd ever experienced as an employee included meeting the human resources person. Come to think of it, I hadn't met much of anybody in the company. I had my little office all by itself. I came in, did my work, and left. Sure there might be some security reasons why I wasn't allowed in the rest of the building, but there would be none that kept people from mine. Not even someone cleaning the halls.

And then there was the accounting slash bookkeeping work itself. A few times, things didn't quite seem right in the paperwork or on one of my spreadsheets. I'd let my boss know, and they would say they'd take care of it. Next thing I knew, that particular file was gone. Did that mean something bad was happening? Not necessarily, but it didn't set well with me.

The clock hit five and I shut down my computer for the day. Thanks gods. My bear was itching to get out of here. I went out to my locker, got my phone from where I had to keep it during the day, and walked out to the car, ready to be out of here for the next sixteen hours. The entire way home, my mind kept wandering back to why, if this was a company that went through so many staff changes, none of the employees seemed to bother me at all or seemed to really care what I was doing. Wouldn't HR be the person they went to? But the more I thought about it, the more I suspected it was best not to think too hard on it. Sometimes not knowing was better.

Once I got back to my place, I booted up my laptop and checked LinkedIn to see if there was anything interesting. I'd made a habit of looking for new jobs since my senior year of college, but today was one of those days when I crossed my fingers there would be something. And there was. But nothing that matched my current salary.

Oh well, a job was a job, right? As long as I kept socking money away, that's what mattered, right? At least, that was what I told myself. It wasn't like I had a compelling reason to leave. I was just having a shitty day and had too much alone time. I needed to get out more.

I contemplated going out to the local hangout, but my bear had other ideas. He wanted time to roam the woods beyond our rental home.

The cool evening air brushed my skin as I stepped outside, the last rays of sunlight dissipating. I paused for a moment, taking in the view and reminding myself none of my other jobs would've allowed me to afford me such a great place to live. I fell back and let my bear take over. This was his time.

My muscles rippled, bones shifting and stretching as he took his fur. His paws had barely hit the ground when he took off running. The earth trembled beneath his powerful strides as he charged into the woods and away from our home, and the reminders of my work that sat in there.

My bear was right. This was exactly what we needed.