Page 230 of Incompatible

Bay begins to sing, starting with some of his greatest hits, then moving on to a few songs from the new album and finishing with some covers, because that is what first made him famous and he never wanted to part with that part of his career completely.

The crowd is having a great time and I stare at his face, enchanted. It is not like I am out of touch with what is going on in his life, I know all his newest songs and I watch concert clips regularly, but sometimes I need to cut myself off from his YouTube channel for days because watching it only makes my suffering grow. So now, looking at him again, I can feel it all coming back. The longing. The tightness in my stomach. That strange burning ache throughout my entire body, that awareness that we are not together, something that feels like an error in the matrix, like a splinter stuck under a fingernail, something that keeps tormenting me and simply never stops.

I step away from the window, the concert is already ending, should I disappear from campus as soon as possible? There is no chance we would meet, Bay is surrounded by his people andhis crew, and countless fans probably want to get to him, so it is simply impossible.

I sit there for a while after Bay disappears from the stage, thinking about… honestly nothing at all, my mind blank and filled with the usual feeling of depression that always follows me.

Eventually I have enough of sitting around. Yet when I enter the bathroom to wash off the makeup I now find unnecessary, I see Professor Alvarez there washing his hands and he turns to me.

"Good to see you, Alex. I actually have an urgent matter to discuss with you. We’re about to launch a new Actuarial Science minor, and at the last minute Professor Goldberg withdrew from teaching the main course for health reasons. He called me literally an hour ago, and I’m a bit cornered here because we really wanted to introduce this course. It’s important for the college’s prestige. It was already announced, and students have started signing up. We need at least a temporary replacement, and I have to walk into the provost’s office with a candidate, so I thought of you. I know you’re busy and your dissertation defense is coming up, but maybe you could squeeze this into your schedule."

I hesitate, the whole additional course would be a massive amount of extra work, and sure, it also means extra money, but I’d really need to hustle to handle everything.

"It’ll be tough, Professor, but would I be teaching it permanently or only filling in?"

"If Professor Goldberg recovers he’ll return to take over the course, but that won’t happen for at least a few months. He had an accident and injured his spine, the rehabilitation will take a while."

"If there’s a chance he’ll take it back eventually, I can agree to it, but I wouldn’t want to commit to teaching it for the entireyear, because I have my defense in the second half and I need time to prepare."

"Excellent. If he can’t return, I’ll look for someone else for the second half, but if I can put you in for the first half of the semester instead of Goldberg, that would be perfect. Can you come with me to the provost for a moment?"

"Okay," I say with some reluctance and let out a sigh. I don’t like this, but unfortunately I’m known on campus for never refusing to help other professors, which often leaves me buried under work and exhausted.

I’d hoped to have a little more breathing room this semester and I fought with the provost to get my classes properly spaced out, and now I have another course added to my load, damn it, I’m not happy.

With my face gloomy, I follow Professor Alvarez.

We have to walk together to the other building where the administration offices are located.

When we approach the provost’s office, to my surprise I see a group of people heading there from the opposite end of the hallway.

I recognize Dean Malborn, two other people from the college administration, and…

I blink because I can’t believe it…

It's Bay in the flesh.

Holy shit!

What could he be doing here?

Is he going to meet with the provost about some upcoming events? I don’t know, and I don’t want to clutter my head with that right now, because I’m already having a nervous shock. My pulse is jumping, my fingers damp with sweat.

We stop by the provost’s door along with my professor, and the group walking with Bay stops as well.

Malborn locks eyes with Professor Alvarez.

"We have an appointment with the provost," Malborn says, and Alvarez responds,

"But we have just a quick matter to handle, a very quick one, it’s about a change in the course and it needs to be taken care of urgently…"

Their conversation barely reaches me, because my eyes meet Bay’s dark green ones.

I look at him.

Really look at him.

And he looks back at me. For the first time in nine years, we’re looking at each other like this, openly. No masks, no pretenses, secrets, or role-playing.