She’s a weirdo, but she’s my weirdo.

“Aren’t you surrounded by hot physics nerds of all genders?” Nyota asks. “I like to picture you kids having fun. Doing lines. Playing D&D until dawn.”

Tamryn seems interested. “What are physicists like? Do they wear several layers of T-shirts?”

“Sometimes. And they’re…” I cast a glance around the room, looking for a good descriptor. Conor is near the entrance, talking with Eli in low tones. My brother’s hand is on his shoulder. They’re both smiling.

Nyota’s eyebrow lifts. “Pleasant? Sex gods? Smelly?”

“Very competitive. Driven. Know exactly what they want.”

“So do you, Miss Young Investigator Award.”

My laugh comes out a little stilted. “Do you never have doubts, Ny? About your professional choice? Being a fancy lawyer?”

“Nah. I’m way too good at it.” She points her knife at me. “Listen, choose MIT. Come to Boston. You’d be an obnoxiously close train ride to New York and to me. We’d hang out every weekend. Being spotted with an academic would considerably lower my social cachet, but I’d take the hit for you.”

“I think you should take that industry position in California.” Tamryn takes a bite off the roundest peach I’ve ever seen. “I used to be in academia, and it fucks with your head.”

“You were?” My words sound rudely surprised. “Sorry. That came out wrong. Didn’t mean to imply that—”

“I’m too hot to be academically gifted?”

“It does feel highly unfair, now that you mention it.”

She laughs and pats my arm, reassuring. “I was halfway through my PhD in poli-sci.”

“Why did you stop?”

“Oh, you know. Same old story. Was very young, caught the eye of a rich dude, was treated to a couple of steak dinners that cost more than my yearly graduate salary, accepted a hasty marriage proposal despite my many misgivings, spent the following decade in corporate.” She shrugs, and I can’t look away. There is something charming and vulnerable about her. Unique. “When I was your age I made a lot of stupid decisions, mostly out of fear and pressure.”

I sit forward, elbows on the table. Study the crawl of freckles on her cheeks. “Did it feel like it, at the moment? Like you were making the wrong choice?”

“Funny you should ask, because…Yeah. A little. This nagging feeling that…it didn’t feel natural, if you get my meaning. It’s so easy to mess up, if you’re not listening to yourself. But don’t worry about it. You’re doing great.” Her expression clears, and she leans closer. “Sorry, I…we just met, and I shouldn’t speak like I know you. But Conor told me a lot about you.”

I let out a scoffing laugh. “I’m surprised. That he speaks about me.”

“Are you?” Her eyes meet mine, knowing. Level. There’s a shared secret there. Her voice is low, for me only. “You shouldn’t be, Maya. I’ve known about you for years. Conor and I are very close. What’s important to him, he tells me.”