Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 69877 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 349(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69877 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 349(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
Elijah is the closest thing I have to a friend in the cutthroat world that is the Nova University Physics Department. He’s also the nearest my age, which is probably why we made the foolish attempt to date back in the day. Luckily we came to the simultaneous conclusion during date three that the most explosive thing between us is our discussions about nuclear fusion processes. He’s now happily married to a lovely geologist named Sadie, and he and I have settled into an easy friendship.
He points at the recently delivered white roses on my desk and gives me an expectant grin. “I’m assuming the very lavish bouquet means I can congratulate you?”
“Hold that thought,” I say, blowing out a nervous breath. “I haven’t heard anything yet.”
I nod at the bouquet. “The flowers are from my family. They jumped the gun a little on the congratulatory thing.”
“Well, it was a pretty safe bet on their part,” Elijah says confidently. “You might be the baby of our department, but you’re also the face of it. No way the board is going to risk losing their golden goose.”
I nibble the inner corner of my lip, trying to ignore the sting at his words. I appreciate the vote of confidence, but it bothers me that even my closest work friend thinks I’ll get tenure because of my celebrity status. That I’m a shoo-in at one of the country’s top institutes of science and technology solely because I’m better than average in front of a camera and completely comfortable before a microphone. And that I’ll be a boon to the department not because I’m an extraordinary scientist, but because I’ve stumbled into the Carl Sagan and Neil deGrasse Tyson legacy of popularizing science.
It chafes.
I don’t want to become a tenured professor because I’ve been on talk shows.
I want to get it on the same merit as my peers, and for the same reasons. Because I’m an excellent lecturer, because my academic writing and theories are top tier, and because I’m good at the science stuff.
Tenure is the ultimate mark of academic approval. And becoming a full professor at a prestigious Manhattan university like Nova is the ultimate goal. At least it is for the daughter of a Harvard mathematician and an MIT particle physicist, and the sister of a Yale chemistry professor and a Boston College microbiologist.
Academia, even more than science, isn’t just what we Reeds do—it’s who we are, going back generations. I have yet to experience a single Fourth of July on which my dad hasn’t told anyone who would listen that one of his ancestors taught John Adams at Harvard in the 1750s. There’s even a recurring debate at family dinners over which of us Reeds will be the next to teach a future president.
So far, my mother has come closest; a former secretary of state once sat in her classroom and, as she is not shy about sharing, barely passed.
“It can’t be a good sign that they’re holding off until the end of the day to notify me of their decision,” I tell Elijah, unable to keep the nerves out of my voice. “Isn’t that a thing? You promote someone at the start of the day, fire them at the end of it?”
He rolls his eyes. “They’re not going to fire you.”
I give him a look. “In this world, being denied tenured is basically the same as being fired.”
“True,” he admits. “At least if you’re fired, people can speculate about some juicy, scandalous reason. But being denied tenure means—”
“You’re just not good enough,” I say, finishing his sentence.
“Right. But you.” He points a finger at me. “You are good enough. You’re practically—”
“Sorry to interrupt. Dr. Reed. You got a minute?” Both Elijah and I look toward the door where Dr. Brenda Kowalski hovers.
Well, hovers perhaps isn’t quite the right word. It implies a sort of flighty lightness that doesn’t apply at all to Brenda, despite the brilliant professor being five foot two. She may be diminutive in stature, but her intense personality creates a large, looming presence that has most of the students, and at least half the faculty, terrified of her.
I’ve never counted myself among the terrified half.
In fact, I almost count her as a friend. Not the same type of friendship I have with Elijah, but when I joined Nova University as the youngest professor in the history of the Physics Department, Dr. Kowalski took me under her wing. Admittedly, it had felt a bit like a dragon wing at times, but over the years, she’s become a mentor and trusted confidant.
But it’s also because I know her so well that my stomach knots when I see her face. It is most definitely not the expression of someone bearing good tidings.
Elijah doesn’t seem to pick up on Brenda’s subdued energy because he makes some inane excuse to be on his way and gives me an excited thumbs-up behind Dr. Kowalski’s back before she gently shuts the door in his face.