“Why else am I even here?” I rubbed my hands together and then worried I looked ridiculous and put them in my back pockets. “I’m ready to work.”

“Woo!” She raised her hands triumphantly, tossing her head back as she laughed, her curls bouncing along for the ride. “Okay, well, the first thing I need you to do is drag those big-ass bags of soil out here and stack them in the corner so they’re as close to the garden boxes as possible.”

I gave her a quick salute and made a move for the bags as she began unpacking the vertical hydroponic lettuce garden from its box. Dusk settled in around us. When the last bag was stacked in the corner, I wiped my arm across my brow and made my way back to where she was working, assembling a giant white tower that contained a dozen or so pockets for plants.

“Okay, I’m ready for my next assignment,” I said, admiring her laser focus on the task in front of her.

“Wow, I never imagined you’d be such an eager student.” She pressed her lips together in thought as she looked at me.

“My professor’s a hard-ass, but I like her,” I said, and when this got a laugh out of her, I felt like I’d won prize.

“Well, you get an A-plus for ass-kissing,” she said as she waved for me to follow her. “Let’s do the seedlings together.”

We walked over near the doorway, where rows of seemingly identical sprouts were lined up next to each other. “Are they all the same?” I asked.

“Excuse you, how dare you insult these beautiful plants that way,” she said as she bent down to grab one. “There are five different kinds of salad greens here.” She began pointing at each one. “Romaine, arugula, butter lettuce, red leaf, Little Gem. Plus basil, cilantro, mint, and parsley.”

“I’m impressed,” I quipped, and she turned away, but not before I caught a small pleased smile on her lips.

“You should be,” she answered, but her voice was quiet and she still wasn’t looking at me. And then something clicked. Could she be feeling the same pull that I was feeling when she was around? It seemed impossible. She was sunshine, and I was…Well, I wasn’t sure who or what I was anymore, other than a guy who spent too much time staring into the blue-light abyss of his laptop.

Back at the planter, she stood at my side, the teacher to my student. “Okay, it’s easy,” she explained, eyeing me to make sure I was following along. I was, sure, but I was also distracted by how her hair seemed to smell like the ocean in winter, crisp and salty and clean.