Re: Tory & Jamie: the Apartment
Look, it was the topic of conversation. Jamie had even started it, with the talk of the ripping and the tearing of Tory's lap/crotch/dick/whatever at the hands (paws) of little kitty-cat claws. He laughed, good-naturedly, bit off some comment about how maybe Jamie could judge for himself if he behaved before he let that out of his mouth, and let the whole stupid thing drop for the time being. "Well, there are two things right there that I didn't think went together," he commented. "I thought all old people anymore was watch Fox News and send their social security checks to internet preachers. Never imagined they got out enough to play water polo but hey, good for them." He raised the shot glass in a toast and took another sip, drinking down about a third of it. "Fucking god, man," because like yeah, he knew it was bad. But also, it was working toward its intended purpose; Tory would give it that.
"I never knew Ballet Boot Camp was a thing. Sounds like hell. But you do what you do for what you love," he agreed. Tory had an abiding love of science; it was something he was good at: he had a nearly photographic memory and he was smart as hell, sure. He loved asking questions and hated unsolved mysteries - something that definitely extended beyond any academic pursuits. He fell somber and quiet when Jamie talked about how it had been taken away from him, and trying to get it back. It was sad. Even if Jamie wasn't conveying it with expressions or the tone of his voice, Tory could feel the loss in the spaces between. He finished his second shot.
"The first time I had to teach as a TA in grad school," Tory said, "I was up half the night puking. And when I wasn't throwing up, I was on the internet looking for what kind of jobs I could get with my BA. I was so convinced that all the students were going to see right through me. That someone would ask me a question I couldn't answer, that someone would just know I didn't belong there. Then," he laughed, "I overslept, walked into the classroom with like ten seconds to spare, and was so busy with it that I fucking forgot to be nervous. So, I've been there." The laugh faded, became a more genuine smile, especially when Jamie started talking about teaching.
"I think it's cool that you're staying as close to it as you can, though. When you've got a real passion for something I imagine you can't ever really let it go." He did think - though he tried not to - about what he could do, would do, if he couldn't be a scientist. The answer was nothing. You could age out of science, and that was one of Tory's biggest fears: your mind got slower, you lost skills if you didn't use them enough, there was constantly new theories and papers to keep up on and the wealth of information in general that was just growing exponentially year after year. Tory had some exceptional innate gifts, probably much like Jamie - things like natural balance and grace and talent - just on a mental scale. But those could only get you so far. "Is..." He took a guess. "Twenty...um...six? Old? For dancing?"