“Okay.”
She smiled. I could have predicted he was going to say that. “You’re right, of course. Balance is important, but I’ve always liked the feeling of succeeding at something difficult, whether it was grades when I was a little girl or a well-written brief now. Setting goals and then reaching them makes me feel like I’m not just going through the motions of life. And in the end, if I do it well enough, other people notice, and I get rewarded. I like that, too.”
“That makes sense.”
“But not for you?”
“We’re different.”
“Don’t you set goals, too? Like finishing college or winning a fight?”
“Yes.”
“Then how are we different?”
“Because I don’t care about getting ahead. And I generally don’t give a lot of thought to the way other people define it.”
“And you think I do?”
“Yes.”
“Care to elaborate?”
He took a couple of steps before answering. “I think you care deeply about the way you come across to other people, but to me, that’s a mistake. In the end, the only one you can ever really please is yourself. How others feel is up to them.”
She pressed her lips together, knowing he was right but still a little taken aback that he’d simply… say it. Then again, he was forthright about everything else, so why should she be surprised?
“Did you learn that in therapy?”
“Yes. But it took a long time to embrace it.”
“Maybe I should talk to your therapist.”
“Maybe,” he agreed, and she laughed.
“Well, just so you know, it’s not all me. The fact that I need so much external validation is my parents’ fault.”
When he arched a skeptical eyebrow, she nudged his shoulder playfully, the gesture strangely natural. “I’m being serious about this. I might have been born with drive or ambition or whatever you want to call it, but they definitely nurtured it. Neither one of my parents went to school past the eighth grade, and they had to sacrifice for years before they could start the restaurant. They had to learn a new language and accounting and a thousand other things from scratch when they were adults, so to them, a good education was everything. I grew up speaking Spanish at home, so right from the start, I had to work harder than the other kids because I didn’t understand anything the teacher was saying. Even though my parents were both working fifteen-hour days, they never missed a meeting with my teachers, and they made sure I always did my homework. When I started to bring home good grades, they were just so proud. They’d invite my aunts and uncles and cousins over on the weekend – I’ve got a ton of relatives in town – and they’d pass around my report card, going on and on about what a good student I was. I was the center of attention and I liked the way it made me feel, so I began to work even harder. I’d sit in the front row and raise my hand whenever the teacher asked a question, and I’d stay up until the middle of the night studying for tests. As a result, I was pretty much a total nerd all the way through high school.”
“Yeah?” He wore that amused expression again.
“Uh… yeah,” she said sheepishly. “I got glasses when I was eight, these brown-rimmed monstrosities, and I had braces for three years. I was shy and gawky and I actually liked to study. I didn’t go to a prom until I was a senior, and even then, I went with a group of other girls who didn’t have dates, either. I never kissed a boy until the month before I started college. Trust me, I know what a nerd is, and I was one of them.”
“And now?”