Page 6 of The Revenge Game
“Did I ever tell you about what happened to me in high school?” I begin.
“No. But you were gay and geeky, so my guess is you were the prom king and class president and had to fend off your adoring fans every day on your way to class.”
“Yeah, you got it in one.” I doodle on my notepad, drawing spiral galaxies.
“So, what happened to you in high school?” His voice is gentle. That’s the thing about Leo. He comes across as prickly and sarcastic on the outside, but deep down, he’s a softie. And I know he’s probably clenching his fists in anticipation of what I’m about to say.
“Well, my nickname was Handy Andy, and it wasn’t because of how useful I was.” I take a shaky breath. “I’m fairly sure any version of a fiery afterlife humankind has conjured up in their imagination would be a Hawaiian vacation compared to what high school was like for me.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, right?”
Although going by that theory, I should be stronger than Superman, Hercules, and the Incredible Hulk combined.
“Yeah, I’m not sure if mental health experts agree with that one.” Leo’s voice is still soft.
This is why Leo is so great. He calls me on my bullshit without making me feel worse about it. The day he agreed to become my vice president was the day NovaCore actually had a chance, not just because of his stellar business acumen butbecause he’s the only person who can tell me when my code is garbage without triggering my fight-or-flight response.
“Okay, it might not make you stronger, but it does give you an insane desire to succeed,” I say.
How much of my drive to succeed came from what happened to me in high school? Working eighty-hour weeks. Sleeping on the office couch more nights than in my own bed. Living off energy drinks and takeout, coding until my vision blurred and my fingers cramped. But I kept pushing, kept building because every line of code felt like I was proving my high-school bullies wrong.
I was someone worthy. I deserved respect.
But the problem with living that lifestyle is I burned myself out.
Somewhere along the line, the endless pressure to keep growing, keep innovating, keep being the tech wunderkind that had everyone in Silicon Valley in raptures, started to feel suffocating. Coding, which had always been my happy place, had become another source of pressure.
Which is why, when I was approached by the tech giant Synexis Enterprises to sell NovaCore, I agreed. Because I’d realized I was at the point where my beloved baby was like that plant fromLittle Shop of Horrors. It had grown to the point where it threatened to consume me.
“They say living well is the best revenge,” Leo says.
“Yeah, well, in this case, I want my part in revenge to be more hands-on.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, I ran into Justin Morris, one of the guys from high school who tormented me, and he’s doing fine. In fact, he seems to be doing more than fine…” I trail off, then take a shuddering breath. “He shouldn’t be doing okay after everything he did to me. It’s not fair.”
I’m aware there’s a childlike petulance to the way I say that last line. It’s channeled from the wounded boy who still lives inside me, the one who used to comfort me that I’d eventually get the last laugh.
How many videos fromIt Gets Betterdid I watch during that time? Too many to count. And they were so right. It definitely did get better.
But the thing is, it wasn’t just supposed to get better for me.
It was also supposed to get worse for the guys who bullied me. They were supposed to get their comeuppance.
“Did you say anything to him?” Leo asks.
“No. He… He didn’t even recognize me.”
“He didn’t recognize you?”
“Yeah, I know. Crazy, eh? And that’s the thing. There’s no way I would ever forget his face. It made me realize exactly how unimportant I was to him. I was a nothing, a nobody, while he was the lead villain in my life. It just feels so…wrong.”
My spoon clinks against my cup as I stir sugar into coffee I’ve forgotten to drink, creating a tiny whirlpool before I continue.
“I got this email the other day about my ten-year high school reunion next year, and honestly, even seeing the school’s name made my heart pound. And I don’t know. I guess I’ve always had this fantasy of swooping back in as this triumphant tech mogul, but now I realize the guys who made high school hell for me probably wouldn’t even…care. It wouldn’t make any difference to their lives.”
