14. Showcase
14
Showcase
It took me until closing to wave the white flag, or in this case, the white bag.
Ash taped the gift receipt to the box, then slipped it inside. “Are you sure about this?”
“Unfortunately, yes.” I hurried over to Geppetto’s Workshop before he could drag down the gates.
He was desperately trying to do something on his computer, so he didn’t look up at the sound of my footsteps. “Hey, welcome,” he said. “Just a warning, we’re almost closed. Normally, I’d be happy to stay open, but I’m taking my girlfriend to her birthday celebration tonight and–” He glanced up and tensed. “Oh. Are you here to kidnap me so I won’t go?”
I shook my head. “I thought her birthday was tomorrow.”
He turned his attention to the computer. “It is. So, we’re having a late dinner, then sleeping over so I can get her special coffee tomorrow.”
“Before she meets up with her family and friends,” I filled in.
“Yes.” He sighed, gesturing vaguely. “Do you always have a problem with people having more than one close relationship?”
“No.” I understood why he’d think that, though. The only couples I’d commented on were my brother and his girlfriend, who bordered on obsessive, and Sal and Janice, who seemed all too content to spend time with friends, instead. But love was a spectrum. And I loved them, not in a romantic sense, so I needed to nurture our relationships outside their partners.
Still, I wasn’t sure I could launch a present at Sal and call us good.
Turkey Tom stared at me from his shelf. ‘You need to make this right,’ the reflection his black button eyes conveyed.
Yeah, I knew that. I picked him up, then used him to prop my upper body on the counter, waiting for genius to strike or Sal to look at me again. A few framed photos of an old version of the workshop decorated the nearby walls, and Sal had even taped up a picture of presumably his grandfather to his computer screen. He was an old man with laugh lines and a white mustache and goatee. Dimples, too. The family resemblance was uncanny. Sal would probably be a happy, handsome man in his seventies too. But would Janice be beside him, digging her nails in?
I hugged the turkey, and its head popped up a little. ‘Be honest with him,’ Tom would probably say.
But how honest?
I sighed. Might as was well try. “I’m sorry for what I said.”
His gaze flicked to me, the game screen still reflected in his eyes. “Which part?”
“Mm, I guess I’m sorry for how I said it.” I still thought he and Janice weren’t suited for each other. “I could’ve been more considerate. As you may have guessed, I have a hard time managing relationship stress.”
“Even when it’s not your relationship?”
I shrugged, then buried my chin in the turkey breast, my heart spinning fast. This stuff affected our friendship. I couldn’t fully explain it. “I’m not an expert. My parents are psychologists, so I tend to overanalyze situations. It’s not an excuse, it’s just how my brain works.”
The keyboard clacked, and the fans slowed. He was shutting down .
I tightened my grip on the turkey. “I didn’t overreact with the guys in my robotics team, though.”
His chair squeaked as he turned toward me.
It wasn’t a fun story. I rubbed my face into the soft, cloth feathers, then stood, my gaze trained on the bird.
It was so innocent. It wouldn’t judge me for what happened. “They started with weird comments about my outfits. Then, they invaded my personal space, and finally, they cyber bullied me, making and sending obscene things constantly.”
“That’s sick,” he said.
“Yes.” I fluffed the fake feathers. “And when I blocked and reported them, they started making threats.”
“Holy shit.” He recoiled.
“That’s when I got a lawyer. We sued the shit out of them and the school for barely even giving them a slap on the wrist.”
“I hope you got a fuckin’ great settlement,” he said, pushing off the counter to stand. “Or some semblance of justice.”
“I did.” I stood straighter and adjusted my glasses. “My brother was my only support system. He’d walk me to every class, assist in my builds, and scare off anyone who dared to challenge us. I’m still adjusting to life without him. Well, less of him. Life after all that.”
He nodded, his brows furrowed in compassion. “That makes sense. Your brother is probably still getting used to life after all that too. Could be why he’s so protective about Kat. And you. Sometimes, we hold onto things, because we’ve known them for so long…” He let out a sad chuckle and braced himself on the counter.
Our faces were close like this. But it was comfortable, in a tingly, oh gosh, were we making up, kind of sense. I leaned in just a little bit until the brim of my hat accidentally brushed his forehead. “I’m still getting used to life with you, too,” I said .
He raised his eyebrows and backed up.
I flushed and tugged my hat. Not like he was with me. We weren’t together.
“With other people in general,” I clarified, pushing up my glasses. “When you were talking about trust and happiness and what we were to each other, I may have short-circuited.”
“I’m sorry for bringing it up, I guess. It’s definitely a sensitive subject.” He rubbed his goatee, his fair lashes feathered over his cheeks.
I nodded, swallowing around a lump of anxiety. What the hell was happening? Were we friends again? My heart raced as I placed the True Tech bag on the counter. “Anyway, here is a present, something Janice privately assured me she had interest in.”
He slumped over. “You didn’t have to do this.”
“No, but it’s a gesture. Of friendship.”
That was what we both wanted.
“Thanks. I’ve got to get going or I’ll be late, especially if I need to get this wrapped.” He smiled, then peeked inside the bag and laughed. “I love the gesture, but she doesn’t have an ePhone 15.”
“What? Why would she ask for the case, then?”
“Maybe for the game? Catch you later, sweetheart.” He handed me the bag and squeezed my shoulder, then sped around to close the shop.
My gesture hadn’t worked. But opening up had, I guessed.
I went home prepared to decompress. Before long, Sal messaged me.
Sal: I did an update and the game crashed! Help! Can you restore her island?
Me: Probably. Can you screen-share?
He hopped onto GameUp with me for a video call, sweat shining on his face. “I don’t have much time. She just went to the bathroom, so I wanted to set up the surprise, then this stupid error code popped up.”
“You spend time with her. Minimize my thumbnail. I’ll take care of this. Just grant me temporary control permissions and I’ll exit after.” My fingers flew across the keys. Error code 66. I researched, rebooted, and patched it as quickly as possible. This time, the game functioned. I clicked into her island, waiting for it to load, just to be sure.
At the creak of a door, Sal shot away from the desk and offered her the chair. “Hey, Janice. I want to show you something. Sit here.”
Oh god, I hoped it worked. I muted my mic and cracked my fingers.
She chuckled and twirled her hair. “What is it?”
“Your present.” He grinned, leaning over her.
The island loaded up on our screens. No error codes.
Thank god. I slumped in my seat. Even the sparkly lights blinked without clipping through. For a week’s work, we’d made it beautiful.
“It’s gorgeous.” She smiled, pointing out all the little details.
Yep, all was going smoothly. I sipped from my flavored water and monitored the island just in case. Quitting now would change their screen.
She held his hand on her shoulder and kissed his cheek. “Thank you, sweetie. So, what did you get me in reality?”
I choked on my water.
His smile faltered. “What do you mean?”
“Like, what non-virtual thing did you get me? Or do I have to wait until tomorrow?” She playfully scratched his hands.
“Uh, this, and dinner was it.”
And specialty coffee, I wanted to add, but that would probably only exacerbate things.
“Oh, great; that’s so sweet.” Her cheeks strained with effort. “My dream house. Virtually.”
He sank down on the edge of his bed. “I thought you’d like it.”
Of course she’d like it. It was perfect.
“I do. It’s just that we’re getting to that point where people are asking if we’re moving in together, and instead of your keys, I got a virtual island,” she gestured.
He frowned. “Did you want to move in together?”
“No. And maybe that’s part of the problem.” She sighed and reached for his knee. “I like you Sal, and you’re a really nice guy, but I’m not sure we want the same things.”
I covered my mouth. What was she saying? He’d just pampered her all week.
“Could you ever imagine yourself in a house like this?” she asked.
“I don’t know. Maybe.” He shrugged, his shoulders tense.
“I can’t picture it,” she said.
My gut tangled. I shouldn’t be witnessing this. I slowly moved the cursor to exit, hoping they were too engrossed in conversation to notice.
She scooted closer. “You’d be miserable. You like homey, wooden stuff. And drums. And toys. It’d be so noisy. I…I don’t know. With my birthday, I’ve just been thinking. What are our next five years gonna be like? What’s your feeling?”
“I…” He glanced at the screen.
Shitting fucking hell. He saw me moving. I ended the call, my heart beating wildly.
I should’ve known not to get involved. Now, Sal’s heart was collateral damage. Because of me.