10. AltDeleting My Crush
As I idledby the curb at the airport, a well-rehearsed mantra hummed through my thoughts: “I am over him.” The past month had been a tumultuous blend of introspection and silent tears, a solitary journey through the stages of an unrequited crush. Now, fortified by a semblance of emotional detachment, I told myself that I was beyond the heartache. Everett would remain an enigma I could admire from afar—nothing more. We would interact as Huntra and EverDemon in the virtual arena, where our battles were confined to the screen, and as colleagues at TherTech, bound by professionalism rather than personal attachment. “Game over,” I muttered to the steering wheel, my heart aching a bit with each syllable, betraying the stoicism I tried to project.
I watched as he walked through the terminal exit, the sight of him causing a familiar pang in my chest. Everett was every bit the charismatic figure I remembered, perhaps even more so now. His presence was commanding as he navigated the bustling crowd, his broad shoulders rolling with each step. The blond hair I’d often seen hidden under a gaming headset was now styled perfectly, catching the sunlight in golden waves. He wore a tight, dark shirt that outlined the contours of his well-built frame, paired with dark jeans that completed the effortlessly stylish look. His gait was confident and smooth, a testament to his resilience and the advanced prosthetic technology that supported each of his steps.
“Hey, Rachel, thanks for picking me up from the airport,” he called out as he approached, his voice warm and familiar, edged with a smile that seemed to reach his vivid blue eyes.
I walked toward him my nerves momentarily ensnared by his casual charm. “Of course,” I responded, mustering a brightness I was far from feeling. “You’re the new star employee at TherTech and a Heroes Quest celebrity gamer. We have to give you the star treatment.”
The air between us was filled with an easy camaraderie that belied the inner turmoil I felt.
He chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Well, I appreciate it.”
As we weaved through the airport crowd towards the baggage claim, I launched into autopilot, making small talk while internally grappling with the absurdity of the situation. Okay, Rachel, play it cool. Just pretend you don’t know his favorite color, his pet peeve about unmatched socks, or that he secretly loves cheesy romantic comedies.
I kept my comments safely generic, discussing the weather and some local events, all while a part of me was hyper-aware of every detail I knew about him—details I shouldn’t casually slip into conversation. Remember, you don’t actually know he thinks cilantro tastes like soap.
As I helped him with his luggage, the ease of our interaction reminded me painfully of what could have been. His laughter, light and genuine as he glanced over at my quirky, bright yellow Volkswagen bus, seemed to echo in the cramped space of my chest.
“Are you hungry?” I ventured, aiming for casual as we approached his carousel. “There’s a fantastic Chinese restaurant nearby. I know you like that.” The words were out before I could reel them back, and his curious glance had me mentally facepalming. Great, Rachel, why not just give him a run-down of his dietary preferences while you’re at it?
“Oh, how did you know I liked that?” he asked, his eyebrow arching in a way that might have been amused or suspicious—hard to tell.
I scrambled for a save that wouldn’t sound too stalker-ish. “Oh, Emily mentioned it once,” I blurted, hoping my tone hid the frantic jazz hands of panic under my calm exterior. Because normal people definitely catalog casual mentions of friends’ food likes. Totally normal.
He seemed to accept that, nodding as we moved to collect his luggage. Just stick to safe topics, Rachel. No deep dives into his favorite Star Trek Voyagers episodes or how he has a playlist for every mood. The internal monologue continued, a mix of amusement and mild despair at the tightrope I was walking—knowing so much yet having to feign ignorance, all while my heart did complicated acrobatics every time he smiled. This was going to be a long night, indeed.
As we settled into my quirky VW bus, Everett chuckled, his gaze sweeping over the bright interior before landing on the Heroes Quest figurines lined up across the dashboard. “Wow, you’re really into Heroes Quest, huh?” He picked up a small figure of an elven archer, not unlike his character in the game.
I laughed, a bit too loudly. “Yeah, I guess I am. It’s a great game, right? Lots of… teamwork involved.” I winced internally at my own awkward emphasis.
He placed the figurine back gently and grinned. “Definitely. It’s the teamwork that makes it, I think. So, you play a lot?”
“Uh, somewhat,” I hedged, steering us smoothly onto the main road. “Just here and there when I get some free time. Keeps the brain engaged, you know?”
“Absolutely,” he agreed, nodding thoughtfully. “It’s more than just a game for some people. It’s like an entire community.”
I nodded, feeling the irony of the situation. “Yeah, the community aspect is huge. So, um, what’s your favorite class to play?” Crap, I already know it’s the Paladin class.
He seemed surprised by the question but pleased. “I usually go for the Paladin. Great balance of offense and defense. How about you?” His eyes sparkled with genuine curiosity.
I stifled a sigh. Just like your Paladin EverDemon023, right? “Oh, I think mages are pretty cool. Lots of… damage potential.” I mentally patted myself on the back for not diving into the specifics of his gameplay strategies that I knew all too well.
Everett laughed. “Yeah, mages can really turn the tide of a battle. It’s all about strategy, right? Do you play other games too, or just Heroes Quest?”
“Just that, mostly,” I lied smoothly, the familiar pang of guilt mingling with amusement. If only you knew, Everett, if only you knew.
As we approached the restaurant, Everett pointed to a small, quaint-looking place. “This is the spot? Looks cozy.”
“Yes, it’s one of my favorites. Great food, and it’s not too crowded.” Perfect for discussing strategies or, you know, pretending I don’t know every little thing about you.
He chuckled as we parked. “Thanks for this, Rachel. It’s nice to just hang out, you know? No pressure, just good food and good company.”
I smiled, my heart fluttering against my will. “Exactly. No pressure.” Just a night out with a friend. A friend whose favorite dumpling sauce I know by heart but will pretend to discover for the first time tonight.
As we settled into our seats at the Chinese restaurant, the atmosphere was relaxed, but I couldn’t shake a subtle tension that hung over our conversation. Each time Everett shared a story or cracked a joke, I nodded and laughed in all the right places, but the familiarity of it all twisted inside me with a reminder of the boundaries I had imposed.
“So, how’s your General Tso’s chicken?” I asked, watching him as he navigated his chopsticks with practiced ease.
“It’s great, actually,” Everett replied, his eyes lighting up. “It’s hard to find a place that gets the sauce just right. Not too sweet, you know?”
“Yeah, I remember you mentioning once how you like it more on the spicy side,” I blurted out, then immediately regretted it. Wait, no, I’m not supposed to know that.
He paused, his chopsticks mid-air and a slight frown crossed his face. “Did I? I must have forgotten that conversation.”
Flushing, I scrambled for a recovery. “Oh, you know, I think Emily mentioned it once when she planned that dinner party,” I lied smoothly, hoping my casual tone would mask my slipup.
“Ah, that makes sense,” he said, though he still looked a bit puzzled. “Emily loves to get everyone’s preferences right.”
As we continued eating, I found myself increasingly cautious, parsing my words carefully to avoid revealing how much I actually knew about him. Every detail felt like a potential landmine, threatening to expose the depth of my attentiveness over the years.
“So, what got you interested in working on VR therapy projects?” he asked, shifting the conversation to safer territory.
I welcomed the chance to talk about something less fraught with personal landmines. “I’ve always been passionate about the potential for technology to improve lives, especially in ways that blend physical and mental health. It’s fascinating, the impact immersive environments can have on therapy.”
“That sounds amazing,” Everett said, genuinely impressed. “You know, your dedication to this kind of work—it’s really inspiring. It must be rewarding, pushing the boundaries of what tech can do for health.”
I smiled, grateful for the shift away from more personal topics. “It is. Every small breakthrough feels like a step forward for so many people.”
Finally, as the night deepened, I drove him to Emily and Spencer’s place, where he’d be staying. “Thanks again, Rachel. I’m really looking forward to working with you,” he said as he unloaded his bags. “Oh, by the way,” he added, turning back to face me with a thoughtful look, “are there any more creators that you’re interested in working with for this project?”
“No, why?” I asked, puzzled by the sudden question.
“Well, I’m friends with HuntraTheRed. Do you want me to see if she would be interested in consulting, too?” His casual suggestion knocked the wind out of me.
My heart skipped a beat. “Oh, that would be great,” I said, my voice barely steady.
“You know, she has quite an enormous fan base. We’re married in the game. It might be nice to bring her in. Also, we obviously don’t have to hire her, but she loves this stuff. And if anything, she could promote it,” he continued, unaware of the storm he’d just stirred within me.
“Yeah, that would be great,” I echoed, my mind racing with the implications.
“Okay, sounds good. Bye, Rachel,” he said, flashing a friendly smile before heading inside.
As I drove away, my heart pounded erratically. The layers of my double life, so carefully constructed, were converging, and I was nowhere near ready. The chapter of my life with Everett was far from over, and the next pages were looking more complicated than ever.