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relationship with him, but we’ve been studying together and … What can I say, he’s super hot.”
    Betsy grimaces. “And you’re not trying to hook up with him? Why?”
    “Because I don’t want a relationship right now, even if it’s just sex,” I answer. “And even if I did, he and I just don’t make sense. He’s got stuff going on, and what he’s doing about it, I just don’t know if I’d ever be able to be involved with someone who … does what he does.”
    It’s not like my track record makes me a prized catch, but I don’t think loading my baggage on to someone’s already full cart is a good idea either.
    “So you’re saying you’d deny yourself a good lay because he’s got … issues?” She begins to stuff her ear buds back in, even though now I’ll wonder each time she’s wearing them if she’s actually listening to music. “You’re right, Lewis. The only good guys are the ones without any faults and fit your list of qualifications to a T, all while being … What was that phrase? Super hot? Just hope he doesn’t pick up on how attracted you are to him, or he might actually try to do something about that.”

    The next night, after an exhaustive effort, I collapse on to the couch next to Hawk. He tells me that my mock presentation is pretty good, and can only be made better by experience. Then he asks how I thought it went.
    “I don’t doubt in my abilities to get the information across,” I say, “but I’m a little scared of disruptions. Particularly … of a certain kind.”
    His brow furrows as he rests his head against the back of the couch. “And just what kind is that?”
    I exhale and prepare to take him back in time ten years. “In middle school, there was always this one boy who’d go out of his way to interrupt me during presentations. Just silly stuff, but I couldn’t ever get back on track again. He kept it up all the way through high school.”
    “Well, first, the teachers who allowed that to happen more than once were incompetent gits. Second, you’re not a kid any more. You’re the authority figure.”
    The conflicting advice from the night before confuses me. “I thought you said not to make the mistake of talking to them like they’re kids.”
    Sitting up, Hawk nods. “I stand by that. However, it doesn’t mean you let them get the perception that you’re their peer. The first kid who says something is looking for a weak spot in your wall to attack. If he finds it, a few of the other kids are going to join in to get a piece of the empowerment pie for themselves. You let it go beyond that second comment, and you’ve lost control of the class.”
    I roll my eyes and grab my water bottle. “I never thought getting a simple job to help with my living expenses would require me to study educational pedagogy.”
    “You only have to study the Cliff’s Notes version,” Hawk says. “Hi, my name is Cliff. Cliff Notes,” he adds, holding out his hand in greeting.
    The bit of humor gives me just enough courage to get up and agree to act out an example. Hawk tells me to start again mid-way through my presentation and he’ll create a distraction, so I do.
    “As you can see here,” I say, pretending to point at one of my visual aids, “mathematics isn’t used only by scientist and bankers. In fact, if you’re thinking about being a farmer someday—”
    “Were you?” I hear Hawk call out. He’s transformed his voice and his mannerisms into that of a prepubescent teen bully. Even though I know this is safe ground, my kid fears twitch inside me.
    “Was I what?”
    “A farmer. ‘Cause you look like something someone pulled out of an ugly patch.”
    I break character. “They’re not going to say anything that stupid.”
    “My lady, you insult my intelligence?” Hawk feigns offense, laying a hand over his chest. “They’re kids,” he assures me. “They’ll say all kinds of stupid stuff. Here’s a revelation for you: when you were getting teased in