when all is said and done | e.d.

fifty-one

ethan

my interview was amazing.

they asked me a whole bunch of questions about myself, what i currently do, what i see myself doing in ten years, my college years, and how i spend my free time.

it was way more relaxed than i thought it would be, since they're literally interviewing me to see if they can trust me to teach children. if i screw up, there's about to be a couple of dumbass adults out roaming in a couple of years.

if i get the job, that is.

they told me i was the last interview, and they would run over the notes they took with the superintendent to make the ultimate decision.

i'm nervous, but everyone around me has been saying that they'd be stupid not to hire me.

not going to lie, they would be.

harper has been oddly optimistic about the entire thing, reassuring my every time i become doubtful.

"are you kidding me, ethan?" she had said yesterday after i arrived back and began telling her of my worries. "the tie you're wearing is remarkable. honestly, they'd probably hire you based off only that."

i laughter and looked down at the navy blue and white striped tie.

she's been oddly nice to me lately and it's... weird.
but i don't hate it. at all. i really enjoy her attention.
sometimes it'll give me a false sense of hope, but overall it just makes me feel really good.

i had to meet with the snot nosed chemistry teacher and the young, spry ninth grade english teacher to be evaluated. right away, one of them hit on me, and the other told me i had no chance.

then by the end of the interview, it was as if we had all known each other since high school. they were laughing at my jokes, admiring my degree and recommendation letters, and asking about where i got my tie.

"any plans for v-day?" john asks me in the break room as we both wait for the coffee maker to be repaired.

i let out a small sigh when harper crosses my mind.
"no, nothing. you?"

he shrugs smugly. "not yet. but there's gotta be a bunch of lonely hearts around this time. i'm sure i can find someone to—"

"good for you," i encourage, trying to stop him from oversharing. there's many things people in the workplace should not talk about, and their sex life is at the very top.

i'm sure mark and i will just hang out at his place, watching basketball and eating chocolates from the box. grayson has a date, and mark was pretty pissed that he blew off boys night.

but i was just happy to hear that he found an actual date, not just a hookup. maybe he's starting to finally settle down.

the janitor finally fixes the coffee maker, and a cluster of relived chatter flows through the break room. mark snags the first cup, and fills it with a couple packets of sugar.

i then take harper's favorite reusable coffee cup and fill hers up with coffee, almond milk from the fridge, and then begin with mine.

her cup is baby pink with floral designs, and a bunch of the guys around the office always give me a hard time for carrying it around. i just laugh with them, because no matter how many times i tell them it's harper's, they tell everyone it's my "special cup."

i hate the people i work with.

literally can't stand them.

well, all except harper.

i say goodbye to john and make my way back up to the office. i'm about to fling open the door with an afternoon optimistic smile when i hear a hushed voice.

eavesdropping isn't usually my thing, but i just can't help myself.

"how in the world did you get reservations for friday night?" i hear harper say in an excited voice. "that's so amazing, tom."

tom. since when is he "tom"?

i furrow my eyebrows and listen closer on the door.

"yeah, no. i'm really excited. i could probably pass off ruby to my assistant. janae told me she could find a sitter so i could go out, but i'm assuming he doesn't have anything going on for valentine's day."

ouch. damn.

i hear her laugh. "stop, you seriously can't say that about him. thomas! stop. that's mean."

i blink, stepping back from the door.

what's he saying about me? why is she laughing at it?

"he's just my assistant, thomas. it's fine. relax."

just my assistant. not even friend?

"thomas, i could never think of him like that. he's just... ethan. he's always been ethan."

before swinging open the door, i swallow the lump in my throat and paint a weak, failing smile to my face. harper looks up from her desk, and notices the coffee in my hands.

"bye, i'll call you later tonight," she says before hanging up the phone.

i slide her coffee cup to her and silently retreat back to my office.

"ethan! you'll never guess what i just heard from—" her voice is excited, way different than it was when she was talking about me thirty seconds ago.

i let the door close loudly, cutting off her sentence.

she furrows her eyebrows at the fact that i shut the door fully, and i start to get back to my work. a heavy feeling settles on my chest as i type out emails and schedule appointments.

what were they saying? do i really seem like i don't have a date on valentine's day? how can they tell?what does she say about me when i'm not around?

i'm not a super sensitive guy, but i overthink.

every little thing that i hear about me stays in my mind all day, eating at my brain and sanity.

at 5:30, harper gently knocks on the door.

i turn to her with a blank expression, and i notice that she looks confused.

"you can go home. i'm leaving. do you want to walk out together?"

i shake my head. "no, not really. i have to... finish some things."

she bites her bottom lip, but nods and lingers for a moment more before packing up her stuff and leaving through her office door.

i wait a few more minutes just to make sure she's surely gone. i saw on her schedule that thomas was picking her up today, so the last thing i need is a run-in with both of them.

when the clock strikes 5:38, i shut off all the lights, turn off the fax machine and printer, and make sure all of harper's highlighters are capped.

she has a habit of letting them dry out because they just sit on her desk with nothing covering them.

"i could never think of him like that."

my drive home from work is filled with thoughts of harper. they make me sad, so i try to distract myself by calling grayson.

even he notices that my voice is dull.

"women are problematic. you don't need them," he says, even though i didn't tell him my mood was about harper.

"well i need this one, but apparently she doesn't need me."