Chapter 3: The Ex-Factor

I didn’t know what to feel. I didn’t think being a security guard was shameful, but in society’s eyes, it wasn’t exactly brag-worthy.

Meanwhile, Natalie was doing great. The badge in her hand meant she worked at the top of the building—one of the ones who wore suits, not polos. Her lunch break was probably a salad, not a Hot Pocket.

Jerry’s eyes bounced between us, curiosity all over his face. He was probably wondering how a high school grad like me knew a woman like her.

I tried to play it cool. "Aren’t you gonna be late? Go on up. We’ll talk later."

She glanced at her watch and looked me over. "Alright. I’ll come find you at noon in the security room."

"No need. Meet me at the cafeteria at noon. I’ll text you."

When Natalie left, Jerry nudged me. "What’s your story with that beauty? And what’s this about you ‘already graduating’? Haven’t you been a high school grad for years?"

I worked fast—my storytelling skills peaked: "She’s my distant cousin. The one who makes the whole family look good."

Natalie worked here, and word would get around. As long as it wasn’t romantic, the guys wouldn’t tease me.

Once you start making up stories, it gets easier. "About my education—I lied. I’m not just a high school grad."

"Actually, I went to community college, couldn’t find a job, and became a security guard. I was embarrassed, so I told the boss I just finished high school."

"Couldn’t face my family, so I told them I work in an office. Didn’t expect to get caught like this."

If I’d had these storytelling chops in school, my mom might never have sent me down the math competition path.

I don’t know if Jerry bought it. He nodded, then sighed, "No wonder you’re so capable—college man."

Back in the break room, between gaming and scribbling, I started paying attention to relationships. Hard not to, after running into Natalie.

We dated two and a half years, long-distance.

I was doing my PhD in Chicago, she was in Boston for her master’s. We joked about meeting at O’Hare or South Station, but mostly we texted under the glow of dorm lamps.

In a crowd, she was like a curly fry in a box of regulars—impossible to miss. I always felt like the awkward extra in her scene.

Three months in, she already knew everyone I did. Math nerds, gamers, the late-night coffee crew—she fit in everywhere. Her social skills made me look like a klutz.

The last time we fought, I tried to analyze things over the phone: "Let’s define what we’re really arguing about."

That’s when I got dumped. Turns out, not everyone wants a Venn diagram of their feelings.

I successfully went from a rational man to a rational single man.

At noon, the rational single man met Natalie in the cafeteria, picking a table far from my security buddies.

It was our first meeting since the breakup.

"Why’d you go to my school to find me? I thought you’d never want to see me again." I spoke first. I always had more to say to her.

"I saw the news. I thought, with something like that, what would a coward like you do? So I went to look for you."

She was always direct; I always felt awkward.

I straightened my back, not wanting to be completely overwhelmed by her presence. I could feel my palms sweating, my badge suddenly heavier on my chest.

"But you have more guts than I thought. Before, I figured you’d go hide in a church somewhere. I underestimated you."

"Why’d you end up as a security guard? Was it... because of Dr. Lin?" She hesitated, but still said his name.

I thought about it, then decided to tell the truth. "Before, yeah. Now, I’m not sure."

Maybe sensing the heavy mood, she switched gears. "After Dr. Lin, you blocked all our mutual friends."

"After I found a job in Chicago, I asked your mom indirectly. She said you were still studying, so I didn’t let on that you’d already graduated."

"Now that you’ve unblocked me, you’re not gonna just block me again, right?"

My back slowly bent under her questions. I kept repeating, "No, no."

"To avoid office gossip, I told them you’re my distant cousin. Since we’ll probably run into each other, don’t let it slip."

She smiled, lips curled but eyes cold. After years of reading her, I knew she was angry. Her next line confirmed it.

"Cousin? Please. I practically raised you."

She grabbed her phone and tray and sat far away, her back radiating a killing aura. Even in business casual, she looked like she was storming the beach at Normandy.

I stared at my lunch tray, appetite gone. Sometimes, the past feels heavier than any backpack. Today was another day of making Natalie mad.

That night, I couldn’t sleep. As soon as I closed my eyes, I was falling again.

For three months, being a security guard was my little paradise. Natalie’s appearance yanked me back to reality. Some things don’t disappear just because you avoid them.

Passion for math is like that—and so is Dr. Lin’s story.