Page 17 of Singled Out

I raised my brows at this bizarre and too-handsome creature.

“I can tell by your face you don’t love math,” he said.

“I don’t love math. I don’t know many who do.”

“Math is…neat. It has right answers.”

“The problem is finding them,” I joked.

“But you can find them, and then you can prove them, unlike, say, an analysis of literature.”

“I’m with you on that one. I always thought it was presumptuous and pointless to try to figure out what the author meant to say on a deeper level.”

“Because who ever knows,” Max said.

“Exactly. What’s wrong with just enjoying a story because of the plot or the characters?”

“So if you didn’t like math and weren’t a fan of literature, what classes did you like back in the day?”

“That’s such a teacher question.”

“It’s a getting-to-know-you question.”

“You won’t like my answer. I didn’t like any subject. I didn’t like school. Much to my dad’s horror, I wasn’t a good student.”

“We can’t all be good at school,” he said, surprising me. Again. “That must’ve caused some friction between you two?”

“We get along. He takes me to dinner every few weeks. I stop by the house to visit. But he doesn’t understand me, and I’m pretty sure he hates that I’m a server at the diner.”

“He isn’t supportive?”

“He comes in and sits in my section. Leaves me bigger-than-average tips. But it drives him crazy that I haven’t chosen a ‘suitable path’ for my life.”

“Working at the diner can be a path, right?”

I studied him from the side, looking for a sign of insincerity, because that was not what most teachers would say, at least not in my dad’s presence. Max appeared to mean it. What was more, I saw no judgment in his expression.

“It could be, yes,” I answered, more intrigued by this man than I wanted to be.

“But?”

“It’s not mine. I don’t have a path. I don’t want a path. The very word itself is limiting, you know?”

“What do you mean?” he asked, and his tone sounded as if he genuinely wanted to understand, not like he was challenging me.

“Take my older sister, for example. She went to school for a thousand years to become a lawyer. But what if she ends up hating that job?”

“Does she?”

“Not that she’s admitted to me, but admitting it would be hard after so many years and dollars invested into it.”

“A career like that’s a big commitment,” Max agreed.

I made a face. “I’m allergic to commitment.”

He chuckled. “That’s not something I hear a lot on a first date.”

“Only date. No offense. I know you’d never choose to go out with me.”