Page 6 of The Boardroom: Kirk
Chapter 4-Kirk
Usually I’m not a fan of school projects that require meeting up with people outside of class, but this time, I’m not complaining. A ten-page research report is due next week, and Marissa and I are eager to get a head start.
“We could work after school in the library,” I suggest, and Marissa shoots down my idea instantly, even when I remind her we’ll need to use some of the books. “We can look that up later,” she says while looking down at her shoes, and I have this awful, sinking feeling that she doesn’t want her friends to see us hanging out together.
“We can work at my house,” Marissa says, and scribbles her address on a piece of paper. “See you tomorrow night.”
I know people usually think of me as a nice guy, and I am. I am here to help you move into your new apartment, help your grandma cross the street, all that jazz. It’s who I am. But there is one plot twist:
I do not let things go.
Even this. Even this thing that happened back when I was a teenager. It hurt. And it was the first real hurt I’d ever had to live through, too.
I’m sure Marissa is probably different now. She probably feels bad. I still like her, and want to like her, in some strange, twisted way. But I can’t let her in again. We can be friendly, sure, we can get along at work, but I won’t make things so easy for her.
I don’t trust people twice.
I get home after the party and jump right into the Jacuzzi tub, letting the warm water of the jets soothe my muscles after a long night of standing around making chit-chat while wiping green and red sprinkles off my suit.
I leaned my head back against the edge of the tub and sighed. I still cannot believe I sawMarissa Hayesa few hours ago. And that we’d be working together at Torver Corporation for lord knows how long. It was surreal. I had pushed her to the back of my mind, after a lot of years and a lot of effort, under the assumption that I’d never see her again. But here she was.
Maybe I’m being immature by holding this grudge against her. But you know what, no. Marissa has always had everything so easy. For once, she needed to understand the work of earning someone’s trust and respect. Too damn bad.
I towel off and change into my pajamas, and go sit down in front of the television. The leather of the sofa feels cold, and it’s too quiet…almost eerily so. I start to wander around the room asThe Empire Strikes Backplays in the background, the familiar lines sounding off like clockwork in my head.
How long am I going to spend nights alone in my massively empty apartment? It was starting to feel likeIwas the one living on Hoth. I looked out my window at the city streets below and sighed. Snow was still left melting on the street corners from the blizzard we had just had. It was different from the Buffalo snow of my youth—it wasn’t clean and quiet, but grimy and without magic. The Christmas season had an uncanny way of making me feel even more alone than I usually did. I mean, Christ, even Johnathan had managed to find a girl to tolerate him long-term…but why couldn’t I? If I showed up at Mom’s Christmas potluck without a girl this year, yet again, I was going to get a lot of grief for it.
I thought of Marissa, of the shiny red satin of her party dress lit up by the lights of the office Christmas tree. Marissa would make this apartment warm. She would color it, twirl around in circles laughing until everything was brighter. She had always had this lightening energy, bright and unpredictable and beautiful…she could—
No.
I can’t. Not again.
