Page 33 of Teach Me How
“I’ve hadThis Little Light of Minestuck in my head for the past two months thanks to you. You’re like a birthday candle somebody blew out.”
“This is the worst pep talk anyone has ever given me.” I drawl. But I’m full of shit. She’s actually hitting the nail on the head.
She cocks her head to the side. “When are you going to realize you’re too big for this town?”
“This is where I grew up.”
“I grew up in Potstown, Nebraska. Population thirty-one. You don’t see me lurking around there, do you?”
“No.”
“You got that master’s degree of yours so that you could be a bank teller?”
I point a finger at her. “You’re a bank teller.”
She gives me a flat look. “This is my retirement gig, honey. It’s just to pass the time. I already had my career. Put notches in my belt. And I didn’t have half the potential you do.”
“Who says I have potential?”
“You do. Every day. The way you think. Solve problems. You could do big things, kiddo.”
I frown, leaning against the counter.
Her voice softens. “Banking is a fantastic, challenging career path. But last time I checked, you didn’t study finances in school.” She scoots closer, putting a soft hand on my arm. “I love working with you. And I’ll hate, hate, hate seeing you go. But you know what’s worse? Watching somebody waste their potential before they even get started.”
She’s right. This move home was always going to be temporary. I thought Jonah was going to charge in, sweeping me off my feet. But he isn’t coming back. And I don’t think I’d want him to, anyway.
If I want salvation, I’ll have to go after it myself.
I might have bungled the whole sexual awakening thing with Skyler, but there’s more to life than sex.
I want a full life. Rich with experiences and challenges. I won’t get that by hiding away in this dusty old bank. Escape is the only option.
I give Sheila a sidelong glance. “Want to help me look at job postings?”
22.
Skyler
Reese haunts me.
Her scent.
The cute little sounds she made when I kissed her behind her ear. Half moan, half giggle.
The way she looked when I told her no.
I hurt her feelings. I know I did.
And the dumbest part? I probably do need her help.
But I’ve never been able to accept pity.
And definitely not from the likes of her.
I can’t stand the idea of her thinking I’m incompetent in some way.
It’s a gloomy day, just like my mood. My boots crunch through wet white rock, getting slick with gray mud. It’s days like these, when the weather shifts from warm to cold, that my leg gives me trouble. It’s not unbearable. Just a dull ache reminding me of a day I’d rather forget.