Cambridge and Oxford

5

Our cubicles stood barely six feet apart, yet worlds collided every time Tom wheeled his chair over to “chat”.

Like today, when I was finalizing an important proposal on banning single-use plastics and made the mistake of asking aloud if anyone wanted tea from the breakroom.

Before I could blink, Tom had materialized beside my desk, peering at my document incredulously.

“Banning plastic straws and stirrers? Talk about low-hanging fruit excuses to seem eco-conscious,” he scoffed. “Why not tackle the fossil fuel lobby permeating the halls of Parliament instead?”

I whipped around, ponytail nearly catching Tom across the face. “Well not all of us get fancy research funding to pontificate from ivory towers before even attempting feasible incremental steps!”

“Hey, my qualifications outpaced most Cambridge graduates before I was twenty-five,” Tom shot back breezily.

“Is that why Oxford didn’t even shortlist you for the Rhodes Scholarship then?” I batted my eyelashes innocently.

Tom’s left eye twitched. Before he could retort, Simon bustled over. “Ah, I do enjoy your spirited debates! Reminds me of how my wife and I would flirt before we started dating.”

Tom and I immediately fell silent, the implication hitting hard. Simon continued obliviously. “Almost like friendly fire between former flames, eh?” With an awkward chuckle, Simon wandered off.

I braced for another verbal torpedo from Tom. Instead, his expression turned pensive. “Do we really come across so much like an old couple?”

I blinked, as blindsided by Tom’s moment of earnest reflection as by Simon’s romantic insinuation. I took a slow breath before responding carefully. “I mean...the bickering over minute differences does feel kind of familiar...”

Tom gave a small smile that turned playful. “Yeah, because you were ALWAYS needling me as kids too! But for what it’s worth, you seem to have retained some decent policy points among the nonsensesetHorizontal line”

I rolled my eyes but laughed in spite of myself. As exasperating as Tom could be, our verbal sparring carried an almost nostalgic undertone, conjuring glimpses of more carefree times together long buried in the past.

“Well, lucky for you, some of us matured since childhood AND learned multitasking!” I countered breezily, getting up to actually fill my original tea offer.

Tom held my gaze for a beat too long before leaning back with his signature smirk. “Keep telling yourself that. But just like when we were kids, you’re going to wish someday you’d listened more closely to my suggestions!” Laughing at his own joke, Tom sauntered back to his desk, ignoring my exaggerated eye-roll.