PROFESSOR SANTORO FLIPS through the article in her lap as she taps her foot against the floor. She scans the room, a classroom filled to the brim with lab assistants, the graduate students, and the other professors in her department. The moment she walked onto campus this morning—earlier than expected, which sent Alice into a tizzy—everyone dropped what they were doing and flocked to her for an impromptu discussion of her latest article draft.
During these discussions, I know when to hold my tongue and listen, but I did manage to sneak in a couple good comments, plus one question that set off a round of arguing, so all in all, I’d consider the morning a success.
Moments like this are both humbling and inspiring. I know that I’m not the most knowledgeable person in the room, and perhaps not the smartest, but if there’s anything I am, it’s stubborn and a hard worker. One day, I want to be at the head of the table like Professor Santoro, doing research that matters.
“I think this is a good place to end the discussion,” she says. She takes off her reading glasses, twisting them between her thumb and forefinger as she nods. “Good contributions, everyone. Thank you for the feedback. Mia, can I talk to you for a moment?”
I sit up straighter. As far as I know, I’m still giving a presentation at the symposium—but I haven’t started it yet. Our reworked program is nearly in good shape, thanks to Alice’s feedback, which was smart even if it lacked in delivery, but I have simulations to run and data to process, not to mention condensing the whole subject into something I can give a talk on, and defend—because if there’s one thing scientists love to do, it’s ask questions. If there isn’t debate when you bring forth ideas, you’ve fucked something up.
I swallow, adjusting my ponytail as I try to ignore the look Alice gives me before leaving the room along with everyone else. At least I’m presentable this morning; Sebastian tried to keep me in bed way past when I had to start getting ready for work, but I showered and got dressed in record time. I don’t blame him for wanting to stay in bed, though. He has that interview with the reporter from The Sportsman today, and I have the sense he would rather perform a root canal on himself with a pair of tweezers than talk to her.
Professor Santoro gives me a smile, tilting her head to the side. “How have things been?”
“Good.” I force myself to stop playing with the ponytail. I could tell her about Alice, but there’s no point in making it into a bigger deal than it is, so I just say, “I’ve been working on everything I’m assigned. Alice has been giving me good feedback to work with.”
“But you’re not finished with it yet?”
“No.” I meet her gaze. “I just need a few more days.”
She nods. “A couple more days, then I want to see it up and running, Mia. If we need to work out any kinks, I would prefer to do it with enough time to process and synthesize it. You’ve been putting in the hours, right? I know I need to check the timesheets you left in the mailbox.”
“Of course.” I rub my thumb over my knuckles. “I’ve been coming in early every day. Staying late, too, when I need to.”
Technically speaking, I had been doing that, but ever since things changed with Sebastian, I’ve spent more time with him than in the lab. Yesterday, I went to his practice—something I literally thought I’d never do for a partner—and enjoyed myself. It brought back memories of playing softball in high school, and seeing him run around like a badass in his practice gear wasn’t a hardship, either. Neither was dancing with him in the kitchen in the middle of another sleepless night while curry simmered on the stove.
Still, I’ve been so caught up in him lately that my focus isn’t as sharp as it should be. I made myself a promise that I’d never let a relationship get in the way of my ambition, and regardless of how I feel for him, I can’t compromise with myself. Not on this.
The mere thought of that sends a little tendril of panic through me, because Sebastian does deserve a girlfriend who is there for him. Not just for a random weekday practice or to vanquish bad memories, but for all the shit that matters in his own life and career, and staring that in the face is terrifying.
I just need to recommit. I can’t let this opportunity slip through my fingers. Failure isn’t an option under any circumstances, but especially not now, with Professor Santoro counting on me and a semester at the University of Geneva on the line. If I have a shot at making my parents understand what I want to do, I need to succeed at it.
“I know it’s a lot,” she says. “But I want to push you. If you’re going to keep doing this, you need to get comfortable working under time constraints. We’d love all the time and budget in the world to get our work done, but that’s not how it works if you want to work on these large projects. Keeping up with the little milestones leads to the big breakthroughs in science, every time.”
“Absolutely.”
She gives me a long, considering look. She must approve of what she sees because she nods. “Good. And how are things with your family?”
“They’re fine.”
“Did you mention the symposium to them?”
“Not yet.”
She purses her lips. “I’ll need to know who to expect, Mia.”
“Don’t expect any of them.” Admitting it hurts, but it’s the truth. My plan all along has been to come clean after I have the study abroad lined up; they’ll see how serious I am when I have the acceptance in hand. But I need the symposium to secure my spot, and I don’t want to risk messing it up by involving my family. “Maybe my… I have a boyfriend, and maybe he’ll come. But it’s not a good time to talk to my parents.”
“A boyfriend?” she asks.
“It’s recent.”
“I met my husband while I was in graduate school,” she says. She smiles slightly, clearly remembering something. “It’s hard to maintain relationships in this field. Very hard. I think it worked because he was in academia too—for biology, of course, but he understood the demands.”
“Did you ever…” I trail off, because while I’ve gotten candid with her about my family, and she’s shared some information about hers, we haven’t spoken about personal things beyond that. I knew about her husband; he works in the biology department here at McKee, but I don’t know much more. “Did you need to do things long-distance?”
“My first position as a professor was at Stony Brook, on Long Island,” she says. “And Sam was all the way in California, at Stanford.”
“No way.”
“It was hard, but we made compromises.” She fiddles with her wedding ring, a simple gold band with a floral engraving. “The thing was to choose which compromises to make. We had nonnegotiable things, and others that were more flexible. Eventually we wanted to get on the same coast, and we made that happen. Is your boyfriend a student here?”
“Yeah. He’s on the baseball team.”
“Ah,” she says. “So he’s busy right now.”
“Giving an interview as we speak,” I say wryly. “I don’t know if the name Sebastian Callahan means anything to you, he studies history, but—”
“Jacob Miller’s son,” she says.
I blink. “Yeah. How did you know?”
“Sam is from Cincinnati. He’s a huge Reds fan.”
“He’ll want him to be on the team eventually, then.”
“I don’t pay much attention to the specifics. But his name is recognizable, yes.” She laughs slightly. “I won’t lie to you, Mia. It’s hard to be in two places when you’re trying to have one relationship. There will be choices to make, and you might not always like the answer. Sam and I nearly didn’t make it, although we’re stronger now, having gone through the hardship.”
I dig my fingertips into my palm. “I can’t give this up. It’s… it’s all I’ve ever wanted. Ever since the first time I looked at the stars through a telescope.”
Something cracked open in my heart that night as I stood on the beach with Nonno, staring up at the nighttime sky. I felt so connected to the world around me, to that endless, diamond-studded black, my mind crowded with so many questions I could barely think. All science starts with a question, and I had enough for several lifetimes. I know, in the deepest, most vulnerable, most guarded part of my soul, that I was given this passion for a reason.
“Nor do I think you should. A mind like yours doesn’t come around very often. It’s been years since I’ve had such a promising student.”
My breath sticks in my throat. “Thank you.”
She sighs, gathering up the papers scattered around her and sticking them back into a manila folder. “Let’s schedule a time to go over the readings I gave you before the conference, then get to work.”
After she lets me go, I settle into my workstation, redo my ponytail, and put on my blue light glasses.
I debate it for a moment, but I turn off my phone and shove it into my bag. The world won’t end if I focus and catch up with Sebastian later. He knows that I’m working just as hard as he is, after all. Proving myself to Professor Santoro, to Nonno, to my parents, when I work up the courage to come clean to them—it’s more important than anything else.
I pull up the program and the notes Alice gave me, then dive in.
I can’t imagine my parents watching me work, but I like to think that Nonno bears witness to it, wherever the mystery of the universe called him to, and that he’s proud of me.
