Total pages in book: 436
Estimated words: 415303 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 2077(@200wpm)___ 1661(@250wpm)___ 1384(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 415303 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 2077(@200wpm)___ 1661(@250wpm)___ 1384(@300wpm)
I blinked, trying to remember to breathe. “Absolutely.”
Paul smiled. “Great. We’ve got to get with our team to put together the numbers, but we’d like to offer you a deal. This is one of the best demos we’ve seen — the hard work you’ve put into it is the real reason we feel comfortable taking the step — so we want you all to come in on lead positions to help us get the game produced just how you want it. You’ll retain a level of control over everything — story, content, gameplay, UI — though it’ll ultimately need approval. But I give you my word; this is your story, your vision, and because we like what we see, we’ll put our trust in you. What do you think?”
I glanced at Phil and Jude, who nodded their approval. And then I smiled back at Paul. “I think you’ve got yourself a deal.”
We beamed as we all shook hands, and with another meeting on the books to discuss details, the three of us headed out of the office. When we made it outside, we broke into jumps and laughter and back-clapping and bro hugs, and I thought my heart might blow from sheer joy. Because we’d done it. The hard work had paid off.
We’d just landed jobs at one of the best game design companies in America.
Once we caught our breaths, Phil pulled out his phone to call Angie, and Jude got his phone out too, wandering off to talk to who knew who.
Before I knew it, my phone was in my hand and my thumb was hovering over Penny’s name.
I’d been so caught up that I’d forgotten we weren’t okay. I’d forgotten I couldn’t just call her, not without answering questions I didn’t have a response for. Not without making a move I didn’t know I was ready to make.
I pictured her face as she’d stood before me on my doormat, the smallness of her in the expanse of the hallway. She was all of a sudden the only person in the world I wanted to talk to, and the last person who I could.
The worst part was that I wasn’t even mad anymore. I was hurt and sad and exhausted by her, but I wasn’t mad. And I missed her.
A sick, masochistic part of me — my heart — wanted to give it another shot, wanted to hear her out and try again. The rest of me — my brain — told me I’d already slammed my hand in the door once, making a point of reliving the pain in an attempt to convince me not to do it again.
In the end, I figured they were probably both wrong. Because either way I looked at it, I was damaged, and I didn’t know how or when I’d recover.
Moby Fucking Dick
My room was dark even though it was after noon. Between the stormy day and my drawn curtains, I found myself happily miserable, buried in my sheets and blankets, listening to my Sad Panda playlist on repeat.
I’d done nothing but work and sleep for two days, and that morning, I’d woken up at seven, completely rested and still completely exhausted. I existed in that in-between — that state of mind where you couldn’t physically sleep anymore, but you couldn’t get out of bed either, folding in on yourself like origami until you disappeared. So I’d made plans to do absolutely nothing on my day off besides lie in bed and stare at my wall.
There was just so much to think about. I counted my mistakes and regrets in a loop like “99 Bottles of Beer on the Wall,” though less cheery and somehow infinitely more depressing and obnoxious. I’d exhausted my tears. At least, I thought I had. Every time I’d said it, they’d find their way back again, pricking the corners of my eyes.
It was over. And it was all my fault.
I sighed and rolled over, pulling a pillow into my aching chest.
My bedroom door flew open, and Veronica stood in the frame, hands on her hips like an unamused Wonder Woman. “Why are you still in bed?” she asked like she didn’t know the answer.
I frowned and sank a little deeper into my blanket burrito. “Leave me alone, Ronnie.”
“Nope.” In three steps, she was at the foot of my bed with my blankets in her fists. She pulled, effectively subjecting me to the cruel, cruel world.
I scrambled to catch the covers before they were gone, but they lay in a pile on the floor, and Ronnie’s hands were back on her stupid traitorous hips.
“Come on, smelly. You’ve been locked in here listening to Mazzy Star for days. You need a shower and a drink and a new playlist.”
I covered my face with my pillow and curled up in a ball like I could hide. “Go away.”