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holds up a finger and says there’s one cardinal rule to live by when presenting to any group.
    “What’s that?” I ask.
    “Instead of looking at your audience as lacking something that you can provide, picture them as you before you knew whatever it is you’re trying to communicate,” Hawk answers. “Act like you’re explaining it to the you you were before you knew. Then tell yourself in hindsight exactly what it is that you didn’t know.”
    “With kids,” I begin to argue, “that might not work. They don’t always understand the world from an adult framework.”
    “Robin, sometimes I don’t understand everything from an adult framework either. The point is, you can’t talk to kids like they’re kids. I know that sounds ridiculous, but it’s true. You’re not educating the child, you’re educating the adult they’ll become. You can’t raise the river by keeping the water at the same level. Just pour slowly, so you don’t cause a flood.”
    “Wow, you’re like the Yoda of the Outreach Program,” I say with only a little bit of jest. “You really have a knack for this. Tell me again why you gave up teaching in the program?”
    “I needed to focus more on developing experience with older students, amongst other things,” he replies. “But I liked it. I love teaching. Ultimately, I’d like to be a professor. I really see myself wearing a tweed jacket and smoking pipes.”
    I cough in rebuke. “I’ve never actually seen a professor wearing a tweed jacket and smoking a pipe.”
    “Then you’ve never seen Ferris on laundry day,” he says.
    I can’t hold back anymore; I break into a full-on chuckle. When I stop, he’s looking at me in a way that somehow makes my pulse race but my heart stop.
    “It’s so good to have someone who understands my jokes again,” Hawk says.
    Shifting in my seat, I lean back on my hands.
    “And what about you? What is it you’re after with all this?”
    I shrug. “A job, I guess.”
    He turns a furrowed brow to me. “Oh, come on. You can lie better than that.”
    “You think I don’t want to be employed? I do love math, but it’s not just a past time.”
    He turns his body toward mine. “You said it yourself, you’re a master’s student in one of the hardest universities and male-dominated programs in the country. Don’t tell me you’re just trying it out for shit and giggles.” His eyes narrow on me, a daring grin on his face. “So what is it you’re planning on doing with that eighteen-karat Manderson University degree you’re going to earn?”
    I force myself to straighten my back. “Finance,” I declare. “I want to build out stock prediction models and estimate potential returns on financial instruments.”
    His introspective survey of me after my definitive statement makes me feel like he’s attempting to diagnose me. After a moment, his hand curls around his chin. “I think you’ll be a fine financial wizard. However, before you can take on Wall Street, you’ll have to take on the students of Parishmont Junior High School.”
    “Is that where I’m going next?”
    Hawk nods. “If not your next assignment, then the one after that. Ferris has a special project going on there, so she likes to bring every one of her Outreach workers in, see if they have the tenacity for working with middle schoolers.” His gaze travels across the room to the wide-faced clock on the wall over the loading dock. “It’s almost seven. You should probably get going, if you’re going to make it home by dark.”
    “Do you work every night?” I ask as I begin to collect my things.
    “Only Monday to Thursday here. I teach Tuesday to Friday morning, and sneak in two or three tutoring sessions in the midweek.”
    “And when do you do your doctorate work?”
    “When don’t I?” Hawk taps his forehead with two fingers. “I usually have something going on up here. I don’t need paper and a computer to do a lot of my work. I carry my tablet around so I