5. Lydia
Inever thought that seeing a little bubble in the corner of my screen turn green would give me so much joy, but it truly is the only good part of my day.
I was a reclusive hermit for the majority of the day today after giving up and admitting that the only way I can get my colleagues to like me is if I adhere to their demands. I’ve never heard of an actor telling the director how they should act in a scene. And yet, it’s always another case of the men in my professional circle thinking they can tell me what to do.
I almost leapt so hard that my chair fell over when PianoPuck told me he wanted to play earlier than our scheduled time. That has to mean that he enjoys spending time with me, right? The gesture propels me to that feeling when you’re young and in love for the first time. Even the smallest gestures make a huge impact. And yet, there’s so much “eh, but is it?” that keeps shielding that whimsical feeling.
It would be strange for me to explain to my friends what I’m going through. Like, how do you tell someone that you’re “talking” to a boy, but all the talking is done through voice chat and instant messages? It’s like the days of my youth, when people would flirt on AIM or do that name/gender/age thing in private chat rooms.
My screen lights up with an incoming call, and I almost fall out of my seat again when I see it’s PianoPuck and his little icon of a hockey player wearing a Stingrays jersey playing a piano. Huh, is he a Stingrays fan? How am I just noticing that? I’m not one, but Landon will go to a few games during the season with his friends. The thought that Puck might be even more local than I thought makes me more anxious. Is that something that you ask someone? “Hey, I noticed you’re a Stingrays fan. We might be neighbors. Let’s go out on a date!” No, that’s taking it a step too far this early on. I want to make sure that feels what I feel before I start initiating questions about dates.
I click the “Accept” button.
“Hey,” I say excitedly.
“Hey. I’m a little early, hope that’s okay. My previous event finished earlier than usual, and I saw you were online, so...”
“It’s fine,” I tell him. “I’m glad you’re here. What was the other event you were coming from?”
“I do a board game night with some friends every week. We switch off who gets to pick the game and today, my friend originally wanted to play Monopoly, but I shut down that idea really quickly. I did not have the time to spend it losing friendships and building hotels.”
“That may as well be reserved for an all-nighter. What did you end up playing instead?”
“We played some Mario Party. Fifteen turns, took us a little over an hour. And I won.”
“Wow,” I grin. “Nice job. Well, I hope you’re ready to kick some Hero Seek butt.”
“Absolutely.”
We boot up the game and get paired with our opponents. The loading screen appears with the map selected: The Frosted Expanse, which is the first new map they’ve created in over a year. They’ve been teasing the campaign with “Coming Soon” messages and teasers on their social media saying, “Your Favorite Man on Ice is Ready to Take on The Expanse!” indicating that whoever their mystery ambassador is really enjoys being on the ice. Maybe it’s a hockey player. I wonder if PianoPuck would know him.
“Have you seen the teaser they’ve been playing about this map?”
“Uh...no. I...haven’t. What have they been teasing?”
“They’re hinting that the ambassador for this campaign is like a hockey player or figure skater. They’re headlining with ”Your Favorite Man on Ice is Ready to Take on The Expanse!”. I saw your profile picture was of a guy in a hockey jersey playing a piano, so I assumed you were a fan. Stingrays, right?”
“Uh, yeah. It’s supposed to be a Stingrays jersey. Do you watch hockey?”
“No, not really. My brother goes to a few Stingrays games during the season. I live in the area, so it was all around me growing up. But I don’t really know much about hockey. Maybe you can teach me how the game works, though, since you know how to play?”
“Yeah, sure. I can do that.” His response sounds rushed and not as enthusiastic as I was hoping he’d be. Did I say something wrong? Maybe he had a traumatic experience playing hockey, so he doesn’t like talking about it. I don’t know why he’d still be such a fan of a team, though.
“You don’t have to,” I say to try and ease him up. “I’m sorry, if I struck a chord by talking about hockey. You just don’t seem as enthusiastic all of a sudden after I brought it up.”
“No, no. It’s okay,” he reassures me. “I don’t mean to be all sad. You’re right. I kind of have a love/hate relationship with hockey. I wish I could go into more detail than that, but I just want to protect you and enjoy this good part of my life, which right now includes you.”
“I...” I’m speechless. I don’t know what to say. Is that the indicator that he might be feeling something more than just platonic feelings? Is this an instance where I follow my heart and see what happens? I mean, it’s not the time for a love declaration, but maybe, if that picture of him in a Stingrays jersey is any indication, he’s closer to me than I could have ever imagined.
“Are you near San Jose by chance? You know, because you’re a Stingrays fan.”
A moment passes, and he responds. “Yeah, I’m near the area. Are you?”
“Yeah!” I say gleefully. Oh my goodness, I was not expecting him to be near the area. That makes this a lot easier then. If he likes talking to me online, then he should be excited that we can meet somewhere in real life. See each other face to face!
I take a deep breath in and exhale audibly through my mouth. Here goes nothing.
“That’s so cool. What are the odds?” I chuckle. “Um, so listen. I really like talking to you, and I really enjoy playing games with you. And since you’re nearby, I wanted to know if you’d like to get coffee? Or dinner?”
The sound of screaming minions and rifles shooting in the background could not be more annoying at a time like this, where his lack of response is making me feel like I just did something completely wrong.
“I...I’m sorry, Liddy, but I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
Oh.
Oh god.
Oh god, no.
“Oh. I’m sorr—”
“It’s not your fault!” He rushes out. “Shit, can these guys simmer for just a second? It’s not you at all, trust me. I...if my life were less complicated, then I would say yes. A million times, yes. But I can’t have you getting roped into my messy life. It’s not you, it’s me!” He forces out a light-hearted chuckle. “I’m so sorry if I led you on.”
Messy life? What could he mean by saying something so vague? “I...You’re not married, are you? Like, this isn’t a ‘we’re legally married but separated’ kind of thing?”
“No. No, I’m not married. Or dating anyone. I haven’t been in a relationship since college.”
My lips begin to form a straight line. “Got it. It’s just complicated.”
Complicated. What a blanket word to basically say he’s just not that into you. I start to feel a deep heaviness in my chest. Being let down sucks, and I’m frustrated with myself that I was reading the signs all wrong.
“Complicated,” I repeat. I’m starting to hate the word. I think I’d rather have him tell me he doesn’t like me that way.
“Liddy. Lydia, which I think is your name...I’m really sorry.”
Hearing my actual name causes my eyes to start watering. I can’t even hear his voice anymore without becoming an emotional wreck.
“It’s fine,” I say before my words become garbled amongst the tears.
“It’s not you,” he pleads. “I...have a lot of shit going on, and I don’t want anyone to get roped into it. I...I don’t want to lead you on.”
“Yeah,” I whisper. Whatever reasoning he has, I want to respect it. Whatever he means by complicated. Maybe he’s still trying to get over an ex. Maybe he has a child. Maybe. Maybe. Maybe. “I understand.”
I don’t want to think about the what-ifs anymore. They led me to think I had a shot in the first place, and now I’m wishing I could take it all back.
“I’m…sorry. I think I just need to log off for the night.” Suddenly, playing video games doesn’t sound like the most fun thing in the world anymore.
I don’t even let anyone kill me before I press “Quit” on the menu. My cheeks are wet, and I turn off my computer as quickly as I can and scurry to lie down in bed. He tries to call me again on Discord, but I reject it.
Work the next day is a struggle. And that’s putting it gently. I’ve ultimately given up on everything. On trying to fight back at the people who talk back to me, on love, on trying to be excited about gaming anymore. Every time I think about video games, I just think about PianoPuck and the good thing we had before he ultimately crushed it to smithereens.
I head down to the cafeteria to meet Landon for lunch, and I don’t even smile when he jogs up to meet me.
“Hey, woah. What’s wrong? Why are you so sad?””
“I don’t want to talk about it,” I grumble.
“Hey, come on.” He grabs my arm and leans in closer to me. “Are you crying?”
I sniffle, turning my head away from him. I hate that I get emotional so easily. I feel embarrassed doing this with students passing us in both directions.
“No,” I say, wiping my eyes.
“Liddy,” he says.
And then I lose it. Gut-wrenching sobs escape my body, and I grip onto him for dear life. Sorry in advance for the snot that’s going to be on your sweatshirt, Landon.
“Hey, it’s okay.” He rubs my back in a circular motion. “Let’s go sit down.”
He guides me to a secluded booth in the far corner of the dining hall, and I plant my face down on the table.
“What’s going on?” he asks. “Is it Jared? If so, I’m going to kill him for making you feel like this.”
“No,” I mutter. “Not this time.”
“Then what’s wrong?”
“I don’t want to talk about it. You’re going to think it’s dumb.”
“I promise I won’t. I don’t think that anything you do is dumb. Or could be dumb.”
“No, Landon. This one is different. I’m a fool for even taking a risk on something like this. And now it’s going to haunt me for the rest of my life.”
“I promise I’m not going to judge you,” Landon says.
“Fine.” I lean back in the cushioned seat and take a deep breath. “Buckle up.”
I go on to tell him everything, and it’s actually very therapeutic to finally get it all off my chest. All the secret feelings I’ve been holding onto. I tell him how I got paired up with PianoPuck randomly online. How we won that first Hero Seek game and felt the absolute rush from winning, along with a few other feelings. I admitted that I felt like PianoPuck led me on, but also realized that he could simply be a friendly person. That’s where I become the fool. And now, I’m a jumbled-up sack of feelings that really doesn’t know where to go because things are, again, complicated.
“You were interested in someone you got matched with on Hero Seek?”
“That’s all you got from this?” I wail.
“No, no, I’m sorry.” He reaches his arm around me, and I rest my head on his shoulder. We’re not physical touch people at all, but I’ll admit, this is nice. “That really sucks, Lydia. I can’t believe he said all that stuff and still turned you down. And he lives in San Jose?
“Well, he said he lived in the area. That’s the only reason I asked in the first place. Now I’m thinking I would have been better off if I didn’t know that the colors of a Stingrays jersey are grey and teal.”
“I think I’m partly to blame for that one,” Landon notes. “I do enjoy a Stingrays game once in a while. But if I bump into this PianoPuck18 at a Stingrays game, I’m going to give him a piece of my mind.”
“Well, lucky for both of us, I don’t even know his name or what he looks like.”
“I guess he got off lucky with that one.” He hands me a napkin so I can wipe the snot off my face. “Feeling better?”
I nod. Everything still sucks right now, but it feels slightly better that I was able to express my feelings aloud. I don’t really have much of an appetite, so I watch Landon eat lunch while I sip on a smoothie. I listen to him talk about how well his life is going—a lot better than mine—and feel a little bit lighter to hear so much joy as he talks. He soon finishes up and heads to class, while I return to the cave that is my office.
I start packing my bag to head home for the day when Landon waltzes into my office with a grin all over his face. A wide grin that makes me think he’s up to something.
“Landon? What are you doing here?”
“Wanted to ask if you’re doing anything tomorrow.” He’s rocking back and forth on his heels.
I wish. “No. I’m not busy tomorrow. Why?”
“Okay, before I tell you, I just want to preface this by saying I love you, and I’m just doing this to take your mind off things, even if it seems like I’m not. You’ll see why.”
“Landon,” I look at him skeptically. “What are you trying to do?”
“So Alyssa and I have tickets to the Stingrays game tomorrow, and I...”
“No.” I already know where this is going, and I have no idea how this is supposed to make me feel better.
“You didn’t even let me finish!”
“Why do you think going to a Stingrays game is going to make me feel better?”
I don’t even attend hockey games of my own free will, and then I meet a former college hockey player who could have taught me the ins and outs of hockey, but look where that ended up. Did he really think that if he said yes to teaching me how hockey works, I couldn’t restrain myself from developing feelings towards him? Or he just thought that I would be okay with the bubble we existed in –a fantasy where we can simply play games and not let our real lives get in the way.
Well, news flash: bubbles pop.
“Because there’s someone that I want to invite that I think you’d really like.”
I roll my eyes and lean back into my office chair. Oh great, now Landon’s response to my heartbreak is to set me up on a date.
“Landon, I don’t think now is a good time at all to be thinking about dating. Remember my most recent heartbreak that I just told you about?”
“Okay, yeah, but do you know what’s different about this? I know him. And I think you do, too. He’s a good guy. Likes to play video games too, when he can. And I think he’d be a good fit for you.”
“Okay, who?”
“My coding professor. Dr. Brosamer?”
I gasp. Oh god. I was not expecting it to be one of Landon’s professors. Actually, I was expecting him to be like, “someone in my class,” and then I’d have to remind him that while age gaps are more acceptable the older you get, my thirty-year-old self doesn’t want to be going on dates with someone who recently finished undergrad. Or is just navigating legal drinking for the first time?
“Dr. Brosamer?”
“Yeah. You know him, right? Tall, kind of reddish brown hair. He’s got three chili peppers on RateMyProfessor.”
“Well, I didn’t know that.”
“He’s like the bachelor professor of the Engineering school. He’s...in his thirties. I don’t think much older than you. He’s only been at LGU for a year, but he’s such a good teacher. He’s patient with the students and so damn eloquent. Like, I didn’t think that you could make coding sound sexy, but he does!”
“Did you tell him that?”
“No.” Landon makes a “psh” sound. “But I did tell him that I have a beautiful, nice, very hard-working sister who is single and would love to meet new people. And I would just like to note that he has seen photos of you and concurs.”
“Does he?”
“Yes,” Landon says. “You’re not ugly. You don’t think you are, right?”
“I mean...” I don’t tell myself that I’m beautiful every time I look in the mirror. And I’m not model material. I have spots of acne on my face. And I was too sad to shower last night. I sniff. I wonder if I smell.
“Well, you aren’t,” Landon argues. “And he’s excited about tomorrow. I think you’ll have a good time. And despite your preconceived notions about hockey, it’s a fun sport to watch. There’s fighting.”
“Fine,” I relent. “I’ll go to your double date hockey game with someone I’ve never met.”
An unsettling feeling boils in my stomach. A blind date. I have to trust my brother because it seems like he wants to do this for my own good. To try and make me feel better. I have to give him credit for trying. Landon used to have a heart of stone. I would have to bribe him to get him to abandon whatever video game he was playing to hang out with me.Maybe I can thank his girlfriend for softening that heart of his, one that is looking out for me and trying to think of ways to make me feel better.
“I can’t believe I’m trusting you with setting me up on a date.”
“I would like to think I know a thing or two in the dating department. I am in a committed relationship, after all.”
“Yep,” I nod. “That is something that you have over me. Who knew you would be so knowledgeable in software engineering and in love?”
“Not me. But there are those people out there who do love a man that can carry a payload.”
“God,” I chuckle and roll my eyes. “You’re such a nerd.”
“Runs in the family,” he winks. “I’ll meet you here tomorrow to take you to the arena. Be ready by five.”
“Alright. I hope you know what you’re doing!” I shout after him.
“I don’t, but I can at least say I’m trying!”
And it looks like I’m going to have to try and get myself done up for a date. When it’s been years since I’ve even been on one. At least it’s a double date...with my brother and his girlfriend. I slump back in my chair. Hopefully, this date will help me get over what happened with Puck, an experience I would love to forget ever happened. Especially the part where I got rejected and had my feelings hurt.
Oh god, what have I gotten myself into?