Page 27 of Teach Me

Grady had mentioned not having a hook for the chapter he needed to write. The Enigma maze might be the perfect solution,and he’d told us in class the other day to be patient if we emailed him because he’d be in DC for the weekend.

I gnawed on my lower lip, debating, then forced myself to lie down again. He could figure it out on his own. He didn’t need some dumb undergrad’s help. Besides, we’d drawn boundary lines, and we’d both been diligent about honoring them. Messaging him would probably constitute a breach. It might even piss him off. But shit, what if he didn’t know about the maze and it was exactly the solution he was looking for? I knew he’d put a lot of work into his book. I knew he wanted it to do well. Hell, regardless of what had happened between us, I wanted his book to be awesome, too.

I lay there a half hour longer agonizing before sitting upright again and turning on my light.

Then, I typed the message and sent it, because fuck it.

When I woke up the next morning and saw the message had gone unread, I wasn’t surprised.

12

GRADY

Buzz’s menu had damn near given me my own case of decision fatigue. The famed Dupont Circle coffee shop in DC boasted fifty bean varieties and what seemed like as many ways to drink them. Their food menu was similarly overwhelming, and as I squeezed through the bustling crowd to snag a tiny table with a single chair left, I found myself missing the simplicity of the Main Street Cafe, the plain glass carafes of indeterminate coffee, probably Folgers, and the omelets without the option of goat cheese or arugula. The quieter atmosphere, too, with the clinking of plates and cutlery an undertone to the low hum of conversation. But when it came to the golden-haired student who served all these things to me, I pushed the wistfulness aside. I’d not been back to the cafe since Cameron had visited me in my office. My stomach tightened all over again at the revelation. I felt a mix of conflicting emotions, and I was unsure which one weighed heavier. There was a deep sense of regret, but I couldn’t pinpoint exactly what it was for. Was it because we crossed a boundary together? Was it because he was a student? Or was it simply because it had happened at all, unleashing a burst of exhilaration and excitement I hadn’t felt in years?

I thanked the harried food runner who dropped off my simple black coffee, and he didn’t smile back, maybe judging me for the audacity of ordering a black coffee in a sea of frothy lattes and cappuccinos with edgy designs drawn in the foam. The woman in front of me had ordered a butterfly chai tea latte, and out of sheer curiosity, I’d tracked her to her table to see what was delivered. The drink had come in a tall, clear glass boasting a concerningly bright indigo hue, milk froth, and garnish of what looked like lavender. It was also apparently delicious, given how quickly she sucked down half of it.

I eyed the paper menu I’d snagged from the counter, and then my laptop screen, the white void of the page interrupted only by the words Chapter 14: Decision Fatigue goading me. After a fruitless session pondering how to open the chapter earlier in the week, I’d thought of my ex-wife, Laura, and our dining option indecisions, how closely they mirrored the old marriage archetype, and how we’d often arrived at our decision not by considering what we wanted, but by process of elimination. I thought it held some promise as an opening, given almost everyone who’d been in a relationship of any type could relate. I could work in a variety of chain restaurants with ever-expanding menus trying to cater to the largest demographic possible. Two hundred kinds of cheesecake? Now there wasn’t an excuse. Unless you simply didn’t like cheesecake. In which case, wait, there were also cakes, pastries, and ice cream flavors galore listed. But as I sipped my plain black coffee, which was perfectly brewed and yet not quite as satisfying as Main Street Cafe’s, the idea seemed bland and trite.

I tossed the menu aside and picked up my phone, studying the apps and grimacing at the irony that I was staring at them, trying to choose the best way to distract myself. I’d considered the hookup apps when I’d arrived the previous afternoon, but as soon as I’d opened Grindr, I’d shut it again. I had no desirefor a one-night stand. My email proved similarly unappetizing, along with Facebook, and I’d die before I caved to Instagram or Snapchat.

Before I could stop myself, I clicked on the app I’d downloaded to message Cameron back when he’d been a faceless stranger. I hadn’t looked at it since his confession and meant to delete it altogether. And yet I hadn’t. I wondered if somewhere in there was a clue I’d missed, if I should’ve somehow known my mysterious hookup was a student, if there were clues even in the brief flurry of messages we’d exchanged.

Waiting for me when I opened the app was the bolded text of a new message, and the way my stomach fluttered at the sight made me feel more than a little pathetic. “Hey, I just…” read the text, and I quickly clicked to expand the thread, my heart pounding in my chest.

Cameron:Hey, I just wanted to apologize again if I made things awkward. I truly didn’t mean to.

Cameron:I know I probably shouldn’t even be reaching out to you outside of class, but you were on my mind…

God, I hated how the message made my pulse thump faster.

Cameron:Your book that you’re writing, I mean. I was thinking about it the other day and how you were telling me about that chapter on decision fatigue. Then you said in class that you would be in DC for the weekend. I hope this doesn’t come off as too invasive, but I keep seeing stuff on Instagram about a temporary exhibit there. It’s called the Enigma maze. It’s life size and supposed to be almost impossible to solve. Apparently they have attendants all over the place because so many people give up and have no clue how to get out. Soundscool. Idk, just made me think about you. Might be worth checking out? Try not to get lost, haha. Or maybe you want to get lost. Been there before.

Cameron:Ignore that last line. I meant to edit it out, but you can’t do that on this app. Anyway, Enigma maze. Possibly worth looking into. I hope your chapter works out. Here’s the info for the maze. Thank you again for linking me up with Paul. We’ve been meeting and he’s really helpful and nice. Appreciate it.

I ached to respond to the text, to tell him all was well—or as well as all could be after discovering my most explosive orgasms had come at the hands of my own student—to tell him about this cafe in DC. I wondered what he’d think. Would he be charmed by the choices or overwhelmed like me? I thought it might be the former.

But engaging any further wasn’t smart. I needed to leave it alone.

Intrigued, I clicked the link he’d sent about the Enigma maze.

Within seconds, I’d packed up my computer, found a lid for my coffee, and hightailed it to my car.

“It was incredible,Laura. You and Mauricio should check it out.” I pushed my phone across the table, the photo album open so my ex-wife could see the snaps I’d taken of the maze. I’d messaged her that I’d be in town if she’d like to get lunch, and she, rather surprisingly, had taken me up on it. Our divorce hadn’t been contentious, but it hadn’t been without its sticky moments either. She’d realized the depths of our incompatibility much earlier than I had, and I’d initially been resistant, thinkingwe could work things out. She’d been adamant we couldn’t. She’d also been right, and I felt lucky that we’d been able to forge a friendship after the dust had settled on our divorce and we’d both moved on. I’d been genuinely happy when she’d told me about meeting Mauricio.

Laura scrolled through the pictures, listening intently as I detailed the maze, her expression a mix of curiosity and amusement when she looked up at me again. “So did you solve it?”

“God, no.” I laughed. “It got me, too.”

The maze was housed in what, from the outside, had appeared to be a large warehouse. The parking lot had been busy and there was a line for entry. Attendants allowed groups of ten at a time, starting them from different points in the maze, with the object being to arrive at the center. It had sounded simple enough, but the maze was a combination of optical illusions involving mirrors, glass, and blind walls. Cameron had been right. It was a perfect example of decision fatigue, with only a few handfuls of people who’d reached the center since the exhibit had opened a month ago. I learned this after talking to multiple attendants and explaining the book I was working on.

Laura passed back my phone. “It sounds like a real challenge. I’m definitely interested in checking it out. It seems perfect for the book, though.” Her smile seemed a bit wistful, and then she took a sip of her iced tea and cleared her throat. “I’m glad we’re having lunch today. I wanted to let you know I…we…I’m pregnant,” she said softly. “Fifteen weeks. My doctor said it’s safe to share now.”

“Oh wow, that’s great!” I didn’t know why the revelation caught me off guard. As soon as Laura and Mauricio had gotten together, she’d told me they were both interested in trying for kids. “I’ll bet Mauricio is over the moon, and you as well. Congratulations,” I said warmly and meant it, though I couldn’tdeny it stung a bit. Laura and I had danced around having children, never on the same page about timing or even whether to have them at all. I’d wanted to start trying almost as soon as we’d married, but Laura was building her career as well and was worried that thing the time off would harm her, long run. Then I’d gotten sucked into my own career, plus the idea of writing a book, and I’d been the resistant one. When we decided to try, I’d found out that my sperm motility was trash, and we were highly likely to struggle in that arena anyway, unless we used donor sperm. Somewhere between debating donor sperm and giving up, the marriage had run out of gas.

“Thank you.” She reached for my hand and squeezed. “I wanted you to hear it from me rather than social media or something.”

“I think it’s wonderful. I’m so happy for you.” I squeezed her hand back, and seeming satisfied that I wasn’t taking the news poorly, she filled me in on the due date and showed me pictures of her ultrasound before narrowing her eyes at me.