when all is said and done | e.d.

forty-seven

ethan

harper looks particularly stressed out as she chews on her nails, holding her phone to her ear. it's not a business call, since she rarely ever picks up he's personal phone on a work day. this must be important.

nonchalantly, i nudge open the door to let the conversation filter into my office.

"i- i don't know, samantha. it just isn't what i thought it would be between the two of us."

i furrow my eyebrows, keeping my gaze focused on my screen, but my attention to the conversation.

"he's such a nice guy," she sighs out. "but i just can't picture myself with him in two months, let alone forever! i'm not getting any younger. i need to think about settling down."

wait— is this about thomas?

"yes, yes, i know he's stable, but so are a million other guys in this city. okay— maybe not a million but more than enough."

there's some silence, and harper sits still, listening closely to what samantha has to say.

"i- i don't know. there's this other guy..."

my ears perk up at that. other guy? what?

"he just gets me, you know? and maybe i'm crazy, but i feel like taking a risk with this person."

there's some more silence.

"no, you probably don't know him."

and on that note, the last sliver of hope i possessed is gone. samantha knows me.

so that means i'm not the new guy.

i wasn't holding my breath on it, anyway.

harper knows what she wants all the time, and i guess i'm not what she's looking for. instead of listening any longer, i nudge the door closed again and it creaks a little.

harper looks up from her conversation, eyes wide and surprised that i was listening. i simply look away and pretend to be innocently doing work, and not like i just got my heart torn from my chest.

no one does it quite like her.

she can make me laugh, grin, yell, and quiet in a span of three minutes. she encourages me to do the things i've been too scared to try, and is there every step along the way.

she tells me when i'm wrong, but rarely ever gets angry about it. she trusts me with her entire being and that gives me a sense of importance in my life. harper sees through every part of me and doesn't leave me alone until i'm straight up and honest with her.

honestly i don't know how i've kept it inside of me for this long.

harper is the only thing i need.

and she'll never feel the same about me.

                                        ********

turns out, i didn't need to convince my old professor to write me a new letter. i sent one measly email reminding him who i am, and what i needed from him. he responded with this:

ethan dolan,

of course i remember you. you're the only one that successfully student taught an entire room of first graders without a mental breakdown on the first day.

don't know why you didn't go into teaching right after you got your degree, but whatever. i don't really care. i'll attach another recommendation letter below. i hope you're still normal, because if you're not then it reflects badly on me.

regards,
professor edward mulligan

i laugh, thinking of fond memories in the old man's class. i sat up front like a loser, and he always picked on me to answer questions that nobody else volunteered for.

i'm off to a good start.

grayson, my mom, and i have been discussing which positions i should apply for. they suggested the english teacher, and then work towards getting my masters to become the guidance counselor.

i thought the idea was genuis, and quickly contacted the school to set up a time for interview. they said a couple other teachers who already work there are applying for the position, so i have some competition.

but basically all i have to prove to them is three things: i have my degree and student taught, i'm a good, normal human being, and my record is squeaky clean.

grayson said they'd be crazy to not at least consider me for the job. i told him i have no experience, and he replied with, "well most young teachers don't, ethan. you'll probably learn more from the students than they'll learn from you."

sometimes he can be a genuis.

when i first started to look into teaching, i thought i'd be terrified of failure. turns out, i'm excited for success.

all the thoughts of me bombing the interview or the actual job itself got pushed under the rug when i remembered what harper told me. you try, and they when you fail you try again. if i'm a horrible teacher, at least i'll be self aware.

i haven't talked to harper much throughout the past two days. it's weird how we'll go from nonstop chattering from our desks to rarely even glancing at each other when we get up.

sometimes she'll open her mouth to talk to me, and then she'll close it right away, as if she had changed her mind.

i can read harper like a magazine, and i can tell there's something she wants to tell me.

if it's about the new guy, i don't wanna hear it.

i need to focus on my real future before i get tangled up in a fake one that consists of me and her.

and besides, it's not like she's going to break up with thomas any time soon. valentine's day is next week and anyone who cuts it off this close to the holiday is a real jerk.

like— come on, just wait a couple more days?

basically, i'm in need of a distraction.

my mind flickers back to the one girl i met at the new year's party. i think her name was kris? kristi? i don't really know. but i did keep her note that had her number on it.

it's not going to make me feel better— honestly it'll probably make me feel worse— but i don't want to continue thinking about harper when she's sure as hell not thinking of me.

i rummage around deep in my kitchen drawer until my finger brushes the slip of paper. of course, her full name and number is at the bottom.

"well, kristina," i mumble to myself, pulling out my phone and starting to dial the number. "you're going to be the one to save me from a pit of loneliness for at least a couple hours."

i try to push away the heavy feeling in my chest as the call rings.