Three
Adam leaned casually against the doorframe. His eyes were on fire. I felt incredibly transparent, standing there in the copy room with nothing to copy.
"Uh, hey there Adam," I said, whirling around to face the enormous white machine.
I shuffled around desperately, searching for a pile of paper with clumsy hands. I grasped around for something, scraps, anything I could pretend to copy. It was a matter of maintaining my girlish pride. I needed to gather enough dignity to face the man I had had a crush on my entire career, short though it was.
"You almost finished?" he asked from the doorframe, "I just have one copy I need to make."
Back turned, I answered his query, thankful that he couldn't see my flushed red face.
"Uhh yeah. You know I just realized that I actually forgot the form that I needed... I guess I'll have to go back to my desk, silly me."
As soon as the words erupted from my mouth, I realized that I couldn't have said anything more awkwardly. I was horrified. It must have sounded like I was delivering lines from a badly written script.
The fakeness was enough to catch Adam off guard. His brow raised and a quizzical expression blossomed over his entire face.
"Kason, are you okay?"
"Oh… yeah…totally."
"You don't seem okay."
"Well yeah, you know that's probably because I had this weird caller earlier."
"Do you want to talk about it? I was planning on leaving early today but if you…"
Did I want to talk about it? I kind of did, but on the other hand, my stronger impulse was to keep my mouth shut about my problems. I really didn't want Adam to see my weakness. I had done a real shit job on that call and it was no wonder the guy hung-up on me. I liked to keep my screw-ups as hush-hush as possible.
I don't have much practice dealing with occupational failure. No practice actually. As far as I know I've never made a mistake worth noting in my file, at least none I got sanctioned for.
I have always been Adam's little pet, his mentee. He uses me as a shining example of what to do right.
As selfish as it sounds, I wanted him to continue to think I was perfect so I could maintain my place on the employee of the month bulletin board. I know that it's impossible for someone to go mistake free their entire career. No one's perfect, but that's never stopped me from trying. If not perfect, at least blameless.
"That's okay. I think I just need some time to process. In fact, I should probably do that right now. Copier's all yours."
I knew he was watching me as I scampered away empty handed, but I didn't look back to catch him in the act. I didn't tilt my head and flash a bright toothy smile like a coy sophisticate on the prowl. I wasn't, never would be, a coy sophisticate. I'd be lucky if I remained just a sexless, under confident weirdo.
I walked shamefully back to my desk, avoiding Jessie's curious, albeit gleeful gaze.
I couldn't believe I had lost my nerve so completely. I plopped down into my chair and spent the next ten minutes processing my complete failure.
A jarring bass voice woke me from my depressed haze.
"Kason, you should check your email."
Adam was staring at me, elbows resting on the top of my cubical wall. His mouth was curved into the secret mirthful grin that had always been his trademark.
Confused, I swiveled my chair around to the computer screen and wiggled the mouse. I typed in my password and waited anxiously for the screen to load. When I looked back to Adam, a question on the tip of my tongue, I saw that he had walked back to his office and closed the door. I could hear national public radio booming through the paper-thin walls, a sure signal that he was wrapping up work for the day.
I decided that someone should kill Bill Gates for making Outlook Messenger have such slow processing speed. I was desperate to find out what that secret smirk was all about.
To: charlotte_
From: adam_
Kason –
I rented a booth for next Friday's Midnight showing of the Moonlight Saga at the Macvoy's Theatrepub. It's just going to be a couple of friends from high school. Dinner and drinks are on me. I'd be honored if you'd be my date to make fun of sappy teenage angst. I can't wait to hear your opinion on why such unrealistic crap appeals to forty year-old cat-ladies. Please say you'll come
-Funk Master Ninja Adam.
I finished the email and closed out of it. A second later I read it again, just to make sure I had imagined it. Adam had beaten me to the punch. I knew Jessie couldn't have been as covert as she thought she was. Covert wasn't exactly her forte.
I decided that I didn't want to answer back immediately. It took all my self-restraint, but I felt like it would make me seem too desperate to give an answer in the same 5 minute span as I had read the email.
I wrung my hands for a few minutes, stared at the clock absently, filed some papers and then unfiled them again. I was desperate. I reopened the email and replied,
Adam –
Not sure if I have plans Friday night. Let me check and get back to you?
-Charlie
Feeling sufficiently pleased with myself, I sent the message and exited out of the browser so that I couldn't be tempted to reply further.
The rest of the night went slowly. I spent 50% of my time playing Solitaire, 40% staring at the clock and 10% answering phone calls. I was hoping I might be able to make-up for how badly I had handled the call from earlier, but I had no chance. Most of the other calls were from middle-school aged bully victims, important issues, but not exactly out of the ordinary. I twiddled my fingers and dusted Rikki's vacant cubical, bored out of my mind.
Just as I got up to get more coffee, the phone rang. It was a familiar voice. I sighed, simultaneously rolling my eyes?
"What do you want now?"