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Conner is at the other end of the long hall, and I watch as he walks toward me. He hasn’t changed much since high school. High school and college were lost years for me. I was lost from the attention of the world. No one saw me. I was the girl with tattered clothes from goodwill. I had braces that a school organization helped my dad pay for when I was younger, and those were enough to solidify my standing in the school as an outlier. As I was the only one with them. I was a girl that if you bumped into, you’d genuinely be confused because you hadn’t noticed me there in the first place.
Conner comes to a stop in front of me, winded as he’d obviously run to catch me.
“How did it go? Was he nice? I know he can be an asshole, but you’re the best fit for this job,” he tells me, smirking.
I don’t feel any vibes off him to tell me he means any ill will. I’m always looking through people’s veiled actions, searching for the reason they’re speaking to me. Ever since Jennifer Skelly dumped half-mixed red Jell-o from a thermos onto me in the locker room freshman year, that is. She snapped a photo and posted it all over the school about how massively gross my period must be that my tampon had exploded in the locker room.
Conner’s question replays in my head repeatedly, entangled with memories of the high school prank that put me on the map. Everyone in school knew about it, so I was surprised when Emery Stanner didn’t know me as Bloody Carina.
Emery had looked at me as if he was astonished by the woman before him. I’ve gained weight. I’ve come into my own, and with multiple degrees I’ve been able to afford the finest designer clothes there are. It helps my outward appearance to the world, which makesthemmore comfortable associating with me. My teeth are now straight as a board, and my curves are in—according to Cosmo.
But he hadn’t looked at me with recognition. He hadn’t even known my name—he hadn’t even taken the time to look down at my resume I could clearly see atop his desk.
“He was fine,” I finally say in a smaller voice than I’d meant to use.
Conner smirks knowingly. “Was he, hmm? I bet I know why.”
I don’t step into the trap he’s leading me toward with his words. I’m not that girl. I’m not going to play dumb and walk right into a compliment about my body. I spent too many years as the ugly duckling to believe words from this type of man. Sweet words get you nowhere with me.
“I got the job. So, thank you so much for that,” I tell him, giving him my best smile.
He bows his head in fake embarrassment. “Oh, I’m happy to have helped. It’s the least I could do, Carina.”
I clear my throat, rocking on my heels before letting the pad of the shoe hit the ground.
“Well…I’d best be getting to Human Resources,” I tell him. When I turn back around, Christine is still standing next to the button I’d pressed for both of us to descend to HR.
“You know all the shit that happened…” he trails off, and I can see this time his embarrassment is honest.
“Conner, it’s the past,” I lie.
I know he knows it’s a lie, but we both silently agree to drop it.
He nods. “Well, I’ll see you Monday. We have a project going on now for a deodorant company, so you’ll be working with Suzanne closely on that once you get squared away.”
He smiles, and I return it.
“Thanks again,” I tell him, holding out my hand for him to shake it.
It’s a simple gesture, but he hesitates. When his hand brushes mine, there’s no tingle like there was when Emery shook it.
When I’m in the elevator, Christine eyes me as she blows on her wet nails.
“So, you know Conner?” she asks.
I nod, giving her nothing else.
As we descend in the elevator to the fifth floor, flashes of the incident Conner’s sorry for flick through my brain, and tears threaten to fall, but I hold them at bay. I don’t have time for falling apart today. I have to be stronger than in the past. It’s something my mom always said.
I sigh. Remembering her is hard.
I look up and see Christine eyeing me as if I’m the strangest woman she’s ever met. It’s nothing new. I’m used to it.
I got the job.
* * *
Home.
