Chapter 12
Rachel
I’m clapping and cheering so hard that both my hands and throat hurt, but I can’t stop myself, because my Karan is up on the stage, with his team, accepting his award for Best Prototype in Ubisoft’s Game Lab competition.
A lady next to me, who was also clapping along, gives me the side eye, but for once, I don’t care what other people think of me.
My heart is too full.
As soon as he gets off the stage, Karan makes a beeline for me. I can’t help it; my legs start to run towards him, too.
I leap right into his arms and melt into chest. Karan grips my back and thighs, spinning me around as joyous laughter bubbles out of his chest.
“I knew it,” I cry, unable to hold back my tears.
Karan stops spinning, peppering kisses on my hairline. “Couldn’t have done it without you.”
Refusing to let me go, he lifts my chin and kisses me as if no one’s watching. I’m so light I may very well float away.
When he pulls out of the kiss, I’m left gasping for air.
“I’ve got to go to the networking thing after this,” he says, eyes full of stars. “Come with me?”
“No, it’s okay.” I grab his hand and squeeze. “I’m feeling a bit peopled-out.”
Already, though the crowd is thinning, the edge of my skin is too sensitive, and my heart starts speeding up.
“Got it.” He kisses me one last time. “See you at home, then.”
I make my way out of the building, feeling an odd blend of surreal energy and anxiety. Only once I’m in the safety of our apartment do I sink back down to earth and let the exhaustion of the social event wash over me.
I fall onto the creaky futon in the living room.
Well, living room is a bit generous. It’s the only room apart from the tiny bedroom behind me.
The kitchen area, near the apartment door, is wide enough to accommodate a single person, and the bathroom is the tiniest I’ve ever had, but I love this place because it’s ours.
Mine and Karan’s.
I pull my laptop from the small coffee table, with plans to put on a movie and unplug my brain for the night. But first, I open my email, more out of habit than as a thoughtful decision.
My heart leaps in my throat when I read the subject line of the unread email from Océane:
Everything is fucked
I don’t wait a single second to open it.
It’s seriously hell without you here, Rachel. I wish I could just skip high school and go straight to CEGEP so I could move to the island with you and Karan and finally get out of this fucking place.
I had gym class today, and I wasn’t lying when I told Miss Tracey that everything hurt. For real, Rachel, I swear I’m telling the truth. I don’t care that I’m twelve and supposed to be young and full of energy or whatever, because that’s not how I feel. I’m always so tired, and I don’t know why.
She made fun of me in front of the whole class. Then you can guess what Mom and Dad had to say about that. “You need to be more like your sister! You need to try harder! Put in real effort! Blablabla…”
I don’t know what I’d do if I didn’t have you to talk to, because literally no one except you believes me or understands me.
I love you.
Nausea creeps up my throat, and my heart shatters into tiny pieces for the hundredth time. Nearly every time Océane sends me an email, it hurts to read it.
But I do, because she’s right. No one else is there for her. She needs me.
It’s my burden to bear.
I type back a thoughtful reply. I have no idea how long it takes for me to complete the whole email, because time ceases to matter when I’m speaking to Océane.
All I know is that every single word matters.
She’s on the verge of a precipice, of completely giving up, and saying the right thing is my only line of defense to keep her from tumbling down.
I validate her feelings and try not to let the seething anger at my parents cloud my judgement.
Why the fuck are they like this with her? How dare they?
My parents were never perfect with me and Will—they were demanding and prone to screaming when angry—but at least, they were on our team. If a teacher had dared to bully us like Miss Tracey is bullying Océane, they would have rallied against them, not resting until we had justice.
I don’t understand why they don’t believe her. She needs to see a doctor, not get berated.
Just as I hit send, the door of the apartment opens.
I look at Karan in surprise.
“Home already?”
“What do you mean, already?” He shuts the door behind him. “It’s pretty late. You’ve been gone two hours already.”
“Oh.”
I didn’t realize how long I spent ruminating on Océane’s email and typing back my reply.
But now that’s dealt with, and I can think about how shitty my parents are being later. Because Karan’s smile is splitting his face in half.
“How did it go?” I pat the futon next to me.
Karan sets his backpack down next to the door and joins me on the futon. “So, um… Ubisoft offered me a job.”He rubs his hand through his beard.
“Holy shit!” I jump from the futon and hop up and down, fully aware that the downstairs neighbors are going to hate my guts. “Karan, that’s amazing!”
A wild look glitters in his eyes. “I know. I’m not going to take it.”
I pause and blink. “You’re not… what?”
Maybe I heard him wrong.
Karan stands and clasps my shoulders. “I’ve got an awesome opportunity here. The other guys from the team also got an offer, but they’re not taking it. We talked a bit after the event, and we want to expand on this project and start our own studio.”
My chest tightens. I should be happy about this. Their prototype really is awesome, and with a lot of time and hard work, I could see this becoming something that’s successful on the market.
But…
“What’s wrong?” Karan asks. His thumb strokes the side of my shoulder.
“Don’t you think it’s a bit… risky?” I bite my lip.
“I mean, yeah, a bit. But there are programs to help us get started.”
He spouts off about a provincial government assistance program that pays new creative business founders a minimum wage, as well as other funds they can apply for.
It’s all making me sick.
“We talked about this,” I whisper. “I won’t be able to work as many hours once I start grad school. There’s no way we can make ends meet if you’re stuck on minimum wage. And that’s only for a year… what happens if you guys don’t get funding by then?”
“We could take contract work. I’ve talked to other indie studio owners who do that.”
“Yeah, but…” I place a hand on his chest, trying to ignore the pit in my stomach.
I hate to do this to him, but this move makes no sense. Not this early, at least.
“Wouldn’t it make more sense to get some real life experience in an established company first? You’d get way better odds of getting funding if you can get your name on a few triple A games first, and you’d understand more about the ins and outs of the industry.”
It’s the sensible thing to do. We’re plenty young, and Karan still has so much time in front of him to pursue his dream.
“So…” His smile fades. “You don’t think I should do it?”
“I think you should… but not now.” I smile at him despite the way my insides are twisting uncomfortably. “I believe in you. And I believe you can create something amazing again, when the time is right.”
He swallows. “Yeah… maybe you’re right.”
I stroke his cheek. “And hey. Once I’m done with grad school and land an actual pharmacist job, I can be the breadwinner while you go off and accomplish your dreams.”
Karan’s face twists, like he’s the one who’s going to be sick next. “No, yeah. You’re right. I need to take the job.”
Silence lingers between us for a long beat before he kisses the top of my head.
“It’s the smart move,” he adds.
I should feel relief, but instead, there’s a nagging sensation beneath my ribs. I want Karan to accomplish everything he could ever dream of. This isn’t shutting the door forever.
I hope he sees it that way.
“You okay?” I ask him.
He straightens and smiles. “Absolutely. You don’t need to worry about a thing, Rachel. I trust you.”