Zach dipped his spoon into the pool of chocolate ganache that spilled out of the center of the enormous dessert in the middle of the table. Between the good food and easy conversation, his jitters had finally subsided.

“So how’d your tests turn out?” Amy nudged his spoon out of the way with her own as she scooped up cake.

He wrinkled his nose. “About like I imagined they would. A couple of kids are finally getting it, but so many of them just can’t seem to wrap their heads around the idea of keeping equations balanced.”

“You ever wonder if it’s because they’re not used to thinking in terms of ‘fair’? I mean, so little is balanced like that in their lives, it’s probably a foreign concept.”

“So...what are you saying? They’re incapable of learning Algebra because they’re from the inner city? I don’t buy that. Your personal life experiences don’t influence your ability to understand math.” Zach set down his spoon.

She blew out a breath. “I didn’t mean it like that. Just more that they’re not used to thinking in terms of being sure that they do to one side what they do to the other. They’re more focused on getting just a little bit ahead, or making sure that they fit in...Never mind.”

“No. I think I see what you’re getting at. But I don’t know how to translate that into a new way to explain it. Honestly, I’m almost to the point of just wanting them to memorize it as a rule and move on. But I know that won't give them a solid foundation for further understanding.”

“Have you tried using a scale? Not a kitchen scale, but one from the science lab that has the two platforms—like the statue of justice.”

A scale? He furrowed his brow. “How would that help?”

“Then they could see that if you add to one side, you have to add to the other. Or whatever. Give them a picture.”

Hmm. That wasn’t a bad idea. “I’ll talk to Mr. Stewart on Monday. That might just do it. Why aren’t you teaching math?”

Amy laughed. “Oh, no. I like my after school care job. And even if I did want a teaching job, it wouldn’t be math. History is okay though. And the kids seem to enjoy having me sub.”

“Why are you just a sub? You know they’d hire you full-time in a heartbeat.”

She shrugged. “I think about it sometimes. I’m certified and one of my degrees is in education, but social work is what I've always wanted to do. It's worked out. When I was looking for a job, the school system was hiring and the city wasn’t.”

That made sense. She was good with the kids; that was obvious to anyone who saw her interacting with them for even a minute. “Well, from what I gather, you’re an incredible teacher. You ought to consider it.”

“I guess I owe one of my classes extra credit if they’re saying nice things about me to another teacher.”

Zach laughed. “Is that all it takes? The offer of extra points?”

“I shouldn’t have to tell you. All the kids love you. Even if you do assign poems to your math classes.”

“Hey. That was your idea. But it worked, didn’t it?” He grinned and slid the folder holding their check away from the middle of the table. He glanced at the total—not as bad as he’d expected—and dropped his credit card on top. “Do you have time for a walk?”

“Yeah. I’d like that.”

Zach was still grinning when he kicked the kitchen door closed behind him. Dinner, dessert, and a stroll past the Lincoln and Vietnam Memorials before taking her home, made for an almost perfect date. Conversation was easy—but then, conversation was always easy with Amy. Still, it was good to know that calling something an official date didn’t suddenly change things between them. Now that he was committed to the holiday program for the next two months, he absolutely couldn’t afford to make things awkward.

He grabbed a glass out of the cupboard and filled it at the sink. It didn’t sound like either Ben or Jackson was home yet. Not surprising, given that they’d both recently gotten engaged. He let out a sigh and made his way into the living room. Between his roommates getting married and the possibility of the owners of their rental coming back, Zach really needed to start looking for a new place to live. But where? That was the big question.

Should he apply for the job at the magnet school? It was so tempting. Parent-teacher conferences were probably easier at a place like that. Heck, if the parents actually showed up he’d be doing better than a good seventy-five percent of his current conferences. And the money was a serious bonus. With that job, he could afford a place of his own. Not a house, but maybe a town house or condo. If he stayed in his current position downtown and kept living in the ‘burbs, he was going to have to find new roommates. Ugh.

Zach set the water on the coffee table and reached for a game controller. He’d just turned on the console when the kitchen door banged against the wall, then smacked shut. A moment later, Ben dropped next to Zach on the couch.

“What are you playing?”

Zach shrugged. “Hadn’t gotten that far. What sounds good?”

Ben grabbed a second controller and named his go-to game.

“How was your evening?”

Ben groaned as he scrolled through the various character selections.

“That good? I thought once you were engaged dates were supposed to be these amazing love fests.”

“Not if you’re Rebecca, apparently. We spent the majority of our evening looking through wedding invitations. She has a three-inch binder already packed with pages she’s pulled out of magazines. If I didn’t know better, I’d say she started the thing ten years ago.”

“Maybe she did.”

Ben gave him a long look. “I guess it’s possible. But honestly...how hard is it? We just need a church, a pastor, and to tell people to show up. Right?”

Zach laughed. “Sure. That’s why there’s a zillion-dollar wedding industry out there.”

“I know, I know. But I thought we were going to be sane, not feed the monster.”

“Mmm.” Zach shook his head. That wasn’t one he was going to touch. From what he could tell, there was no combining ‘sane’ with ‘weddings’ once you had a woman involved. And having a woman involved was more or less essential to the whole undertaking.

“Yeah, yeah. What about you? Your big, official first date with Amy, right? How’d that go?”

Zach grinned. “It was great. Not weird, which is a bonus. I half expected it to end up all stilted, with those long, uncomfortable silences that send you running for the hills. She’s a good friend, probably my best friend at work, or in general, other than you losers.”

Ben chortled. “Not weird is definitely a good thing. I’m glad to hear it, man.”

“Now I just need to see if she’ll do it again next week.”

“You’ve got it bad, don’t you?”

Did he? He liked her. A lot. That was enough for now. “Let’s just say I want to see where it goes. We’ve been dancing around each other for six months. It’s time to change the tune.”

Zach set his Bible on the night stand and loosened the tie he’d thrown on that morning. Church was casual but, for whatever reason, he’d wanted to dress it up a little today. Shaming his roommates into changing had been an amusing side benefit. The three of them had made quite the picture, if the admiring looks from Paige and Rebecca were anything to go on. Not that it helped him any.

He shrugged out of his dress shirt and tossed it in the general direction of his hamper. The sermon...how did Pastor Brown always seem to know what he needed to hear? Whether he wanted to hear it or not. Zach flipped his Bible back to Ephesians four and read the first verse again. Worthy of the calling to which he had been called. But what was that calling? Teaching? Teaching in the inner city, specifically?

He dug through his dresser for a long-sleeved t-shirt and dragged it over his head before ambling down the hallway to the kitchen. “What’re you making for lunch?”

Jackson turned, one hand on the refrigerator door. “Paige sent some leftovers home last night. My sister’s not doing well today, so our usual family lunch is off and Paige’s mom was apparently dropping broad hints that they never see her anymore.”

“They see her all the time. Don’t you end up over there every week for a while too?”

Jackson nodded. “I got the feeling they meant just her.”

“Oh.”

Jackson shrugged. “No biggie. Especially since she loaded us up with food. Help yourself.”

Zach smiled. It was definitely a good thing to have a roommate engaged to a chef. “Sweet. Thanks, man. What’d you think of the sermon today?”

Jackson flipped open the lid of a container, sniffed, smiled, and closed the fridge. He crossed the kitchen to grab a fork out of a drawer and dumped the contents of the container onto a plate. He stuck it in the microwave and punched a button. “Good, as usual. Maybe not as thought provoking as most. Why?”

Not as thought provoking? “Huh. I thought it was one of the more challenging sermons in a while.”

The microwave beeped. Jackson grabbed his plate, snagged the fork off the counter, and headed into the dining room. “Oh?”

Zach did a quick game of eenie-meenie-miney-moe with the containers. He took the winning box out of the fridge, scooped it onto a plate, and shoved it into the microwave. When the food was hot, he joined Jackson at the table. “I get being worthy of your calling. It’s knowing what that calling is that’s a struggle.”

“Seriously? How do you end up a math teacher if it’s not your calling?”

Zach sighed and stabbed the food on his plate. “Okay, sure. Teaching math, check. But where? Is that part of my calling?”

“I guess I didn’t realize you weren’t happy with your current position.” Jackson scooped a forkful of food into his mouth.

“I’m not unhappy. I just...it’s frustrating. These kids...I get that kids who love math are few and far between. For whatever reason, math got a bad rap and the stigma clings to it. So I know I’m fighting an uphill battle just because of my chosen field. But these kids take the old standby of ‘Why do we have to learn this? We’re never going to use it.’ to new levels. Am I really called to tilt at windmills?”

“What’s the alternative?”

Zach pushed the food around on his plate. “There’s a job opening at the magnet school. It’s a mid-year replacement, so the turnaround is pretty quick. I need to make a decision about applying in a week, maybe week and a half. The opportunity...man, it’s a once in a lifetime thing.”

Jackson puffed out his cheeks. “Ah. That’s tricky.”

“That’s it? It’s tricky?” Zack shook his head and stabbed at his plate again.

“Yeah, well. It is. What made you take the job downtown?”

Zach frowned at his food. What had convinced him it was the right move? Part of it? He hadn’t had any other offers. The school system here in Northern Virginia was one of the best in the nation, so getting a job was a bit more competitive than in other areas. Even in the traditionally harder-to-fill subjects like math and science. “Honestly? They were willing to hire me straight out of school and new to the area. Plus, with the Teach the City program, every term I complete pays down my college loans. Not having that debt is a beautiful thing.”

“Huh. I always thought you sought them out.”

Zach shook his head. He’d practiced the scatter shot method of job hunting—throw out as many resumes as you could and pray someone took the bait. It had been easy to convince himself that this was where God wanted him. After all, he’d applied for more than fifteen positions. So for only one to be interested enough to have him in for an interview? That had to be God, didn’t it?

“And now, what? You don’t think it’s where you’re supposed to be?” Jackson scraped the remnants of food on his plate onto his fork.

Zach’s shoulders sagged. “I don’t think it’s not where I’m supposed to be. Particularly. I just wonder if I couldn’t do more somewhere else. I mean, at my school we lose half a dozen kids each year to the gangs. They either quit coming because they’re too busy with their posse, or they get killed because they crossed the wrong street at the wrong time of day. We have girls—promising girls—who drop out because they have a baby and have to get a job to support their new responsibility. And that doesn’t include the kids who just disappear into the workforce to try and help their families make ends meet. Algebra isn’t exactly something any of these kids need to master. Not really. And Calculus or Geometry? Please. The chances of having enough interest to teach something beyond what the government requires is laughable.”

“But is math all you teach?”

Zach drew his eyebrows together. What did he mean? It wasn’t as if he was an English teacher. “Uh, yeah. Duh?”

Jackson shook his head. “Not from an ‘up at the chalkboard’ standpoint. Do your kids know you’re a Christian? Are you shining a light in dark places because of your position at the school?”

Zach rubbed his neck. Was he? He hoped so. He certainly had a lifestyle that was different from what most of them observed on a daily basis. And he tried to work in a mention of Christ now and then, when he could. Was he a living, breathing, advertisement for Jesus though? “I...don’t know.”

“Maybe that’s the question you need to answer before you look at anything else.”