“And,” Lucy chimed in, “if you’re going to stay up all night at least you could be working on Lit. Remember when you told me there were more important things to worry about than Pulse? Well, right back at ya!”
“Don’t yell at her,” Delia said.
“Why not? You did.”
“Because this affects me. And her part on Lit is fine. That’s not what needs yelling about.”
“Sure, her part’s fine. She did fine. You did fine. I did fine. Fine, fine, fine. Fine isn’t good enough. And since I’m covering your tush in the Demo Day presentation, it’s up to me to make it all more than fine, to make it fan-freaking-tastic. You may think I’m over here painting my nails and flirting with boys, but instead I’m running all over campus to make sure our beta test actually has betas to test it.”
And with that, Lucy yanked the covers over her head.
Delia wanted to jerk them right off and sleep under them instead of her comforter that she swore scratched her cornea the other night. Instead, she turned away from Maddie and her ginormous laptop, snatched Lucy’s luxuriously soft pillow off the floor, and sank into bed. She buried her head beneath her sandpaper covers and wished for sleep.
NINETEEN
BLACK SWAN • An unforeseeable incident often with dire consequences
LUCY SUCKED ON THE metal straw of her smoothie and gagged. Peanut butter. She’d asked for almond butter and they’d clearly put in peanut butter. She pushed the cup aside. Even liquid food was questionable anyway thanks to the gymnastic routine underway in her stomach.
The beta test was today. And after, her dinner with Ryan. And after that, surely an acceptance from Stanford. Because Lucy planned to ask Ryan for a recommendation at dinner. How could she not leap off the wait list with a personal letter from the founder of Pulse?
Across the table in the ValleyStart headquarters, Delia tugged her hand through her hair for the millionth time, expanding her curls to doorway-blocking proportions. Hunched over and shielded by her laptop screen, Maddie let out a small huff every now and again, which was Delia’s cue to check out what problem Maddie had uncovered—problems they might have found earlier had Maddie not gotten sidetracked by her obsession with Pulse.
None of them had spoken about last night.
They’d barely spoken since last night.
At least the final touches to Lit could be done by pointing and grunting.
Fine. It’s going to be fine.
She sat back in her chair and played with the straw as she assessed the competition. Gavin’s eyes were rimmed with red from fatigue—or maybe from crying over unsolved bugs in his code (hey, one could hope). Eric and Marty appeared calm, cautiously confident. But most of the other teams were pointing and grunting too, downing energy drinks and looking in need of a factory reset. Burnout pervaded the room. She took comfort in it. It meant that her team was no different.
Lucy cleared her throat and slid her smoothie forward. “Either of you want this? Otherwise I’m chucking it.”
“Wasteful,” Maddie said.
Lucy forced her nostrils not to flare. “Only because they screwed up the order. They put in peanut butter, and I hate peanut butter.”
Delia’s head snapped up. “See? This is why Eric’s app’s so important. At least you won’t die from that sip.”
That Delia considered Lit to be frivolous wasn’t news. That Maddie waxed and waned more than the moon in her feeling the same about Lucy wasn’t either.
At least Lit hadn’t suffered.
Lucy wanted to scoop up pom-poms and rah-rah them all over the finish line, but she’d barely slept, and all the unknowns for tonight—from having enough users, to their app scaling if they did have enough users, to what Ryan would ask about Lit’s business plan over dinner—meant she simply couldn’t muster the enthusiasm or find the right words.
Instead, they spent the afternoon on Lit.
* * *
* * *
Stray booms and pops punctuated Lucy’s walk around campus. It was Fourth of July eve, and students had been setting off firecrackers and sparklers all day. Events were being held all around campus, which meant more students, which meant more potential beta testers.
It was the perfect night for their test, just as Lucy had planned. Though teams could pick any day that week to run their beta test, Lucy had specifically chosen this one.
That afternoon she’d visited each venue she’d recruited to confirm their participation. These included places on campus (the food court; all the kiosks in the student center; the music hall, which had a concert scheduled; and the outdoor amphitheater, which was hosting an open mic night) and off campus (the new pizza place that’d just opened and a comedy club). Lucy had spread the word to the summer students by coordinating with the university and using its communication channels. She’d also posted signs all over campus, ensuring the Pulse logo was front and center, as big as ValleyStart. Students might not know ValleyStart, but they knew Pulse.
To reach more potential betas, Lucy had compiled a list of users who’d tagged Mountain View U on social media. She then cross-referenced that list with Pulse, categorizing users by number of hearts. She’d scheduled posts about the beta test from her personal accounts, tagging users with the highest Pulse rankings.
She’d done what she could. And now, it was up to Lit.
Lucy swung her arms to help release the buildup of nerves as she marched down the main path that led to the enclave of dorms and passed under the seventy-year-old wisteria arbor. The last remaining purple flowers from the springtime bloom dangled through the lattice, releasing the heady scent that always reminded Lucy of cat pee.
She lifted her hand to cover her nose at the same time as a figure in front of her in khaki shorts and a white tee turned around and leaned against the post at the end of the long arbor.
Gavin.
She lightened her step and tossed her hand back down to her side, but not fast enough.
He thought she was waving. And he waved back.
Lucy spun her head, searching for an out. But this path cut straight through campus with nothing but expansive green lawn on either side, dotted by a few sunbathers, Frisbee throwers, and a group playing giant Jenga. Any buildings loomed too far in the distance to get to unnoticed. She’d have to stay and walk past Gavin—the Gavin she’d yet to forgive for being a sexist ass in front of half of ValleyStart at the party in the common room. She quickened her pace and focused straight ahead.
“Hey,” Gavin said. “Wasn’t sure you were talking to me.”
His fingers grazed her elbow and trailed down to her hand—the sensation sparking a flood of tactile memories of his arm around her waist, her cheek against his chest, his lips soft and searching against hers. His redwoods scent wafted over them, and more memories rushed to the surface—wind whipping through her hair beside him in his open-top Mercedes, snorts of laughter as he inhaled three Double-Double burgers at In-N-Out, tears wiped from his cheeks the night he told her about his father, ones coating her own the next morning when she woke up hours late for her Stanford interview.
The warmth spreading across her chest turned into a burn, and she shook him off.
“Trust your instincts,” she said.
Gavin’s lips parted, but no sound came out. He held her gaze, his eyes clouding with a look she recognized not just in him but in herself. It kept her feet glued in place. Finally he said, “Dad says to do the opposite. That my instincts are crap.”
“But you used Swift,” spilled out before Lucy could stop it. She didn’t want to make Gavin feel better. But she also didn’t want to make him feel worse.
He tilted his head. “Maybe. But my dad’s instincts had him investing in Pulse before it was even called Pulse.” Gavin tipped his chin, gesturing to the campus. “He thinks it means this is a no-brainer, but ValleyStart and Pulse aren’t the same. S
till, I’ll be ‘an embarrassment to the family’ if I don’t win.” He used air quotes just like he had in her dorm room, just like he had in his room in high school—she’d forgotten about that.
“Everyone here’s at the top of their game,” Lucy said, for the first time admitting the thing that frightened her the most since crossing under the arched entrance to the hackathon.
“Which is why I have to act like the best and be the best to get him off my ass.” Gavin slammed the back of his foot into the post. The force reverberated down the arbor, shaking free more odor of cat pee. He then grasped his curls so hard that when he released them they stood on end as if he’d used an entire container of gel.
“Fine,” he muttered half under his breath. “Whatever it takes to win. That’s what he wants, so that’s what I’ll do.”
Lucy wasn’t sure if he was talking to her, himself, his absent father, or all of them. She simply watched as the anger in his steps catapulted him down the path. He continued toward the dorms without looking back. Lucy hugged her arms against her chest, an unease that no longer had anything to do with the beta test billowing inside her.
She breathed in the last of the wisteria as she exited the arbor, appreciating her mom in a way she hadn’t done in years.
* * *
* * *
Delia wouldn’t stay still. In front of the pizza oven, she bounced from one foot to the other. Back and forth. Forth and back. Lucy couldn’t take it anymore.
“Maddie’s at the music hall, right?” Lucy asked, to which Delia nodded. “Then I’m staking out the student center. You stay here. Text me if anything happens.”
The beta test was an hour in, and they only had a handful of reports.
It was working, just not hard enough. They needed testers.
Lucy opened her scheduling app. Another blast about participating in Lit was waiting. She hesitated and then amended each post to include the photo of her and Ryan.
Any and every advantage.
She opened Lit and marked the pizza place as “worth the trip.” She then ducked into the restroom. By the time she came out, half a dozen students were in line, all on their phones. She weaved through, sneaking a glance at what was up on their screens. Lit. They were on Lit.
“Better be good,” one guy in a beanie said. “I’m starved.”
“No worries,” the guy beside him said. “Level 10 approved. Said ‘worth the trip.’ So it will be.”
Level 10?
Lucy slunk into the corner. No one else had marked the pizza joint as “worth the trip.”
She bit down on her lower lip. Wanting to open Pulse. Afraid to open Pulse. But she did it anyway.
And, inside, she screamed.
She was Crushing It.
And soon, so was Lit.
* * *
* * *
Nothing could be more perfect than Pulse-Lit. Their beta test proved it. Because when a user with a high Pulse rated a venue, more people responded—leaving when things were dull, arriving when they were happening.
Not only did Lit work, Lit was prime for exactly what Ryan had suggested—a merger. Lucy was practically floating by the time the test ended. Officially ended, that is. Users were continuing to add ratings.
Because they loved it. And everyone at ValleyStart could see it.
Gavin could see it. And Gavin, Lucy noted when she passed him in the quad, was worried. She didn’t envy the call to come with his father. But Lucy had earned this. They all had.
Lucy, Maddie, and Delia had split up for the rest of the test, each traveling between venues to assess the traffic. They’d planned to meet in their dorm room.
When Lucy arrived, she took the stairs two at a time, anxious to put their disagreements behind them and celebrate their success—which included Ryan’s interest in Lit.
When she burst through the door, the room was empty.
A tightness spread across her chest.
But she was at the student center—she was closest, right?
They’re coming, they’re definitely coming.
She paced the room before deciding to use the time to get dressed for her night with Ryan. She tied the belt of the black dress she’d purchased the other day.
Stylize.
But also strategize. Because the faux-wrap dress was professional. More so with the blazer she’d bought to pair with it. Yet when she slipped her arms through and looked in the mirror all she thought was total frump—like something her mom would wear. Lucy chose her cropped leather jacket instead and, in case they went walking after, her second-highest heels.
She then opened her jewelry case. Her fingers hovered over her Star of David necklace but landed on a strand of black beads that she thought would make her look older than she was. She hooked them around her neck just as Maddie and Delia entered the room together.
“Formal celebration, is it then?” Maddie said.
Delia unexpectedly tackle-hugged Lucy, and though Maddie hung back, the same excitement shined in her eyes. “We’re going out?” Delia said. “Yes, let’s go out! But, maybe, can I borrow something?”
“Of course,” Lucy said, squeezing Delia’s hand. “Anything you want.”
Delia’s wide smile ignited a deep guilt at what Lucy had to say next. Though this was going to be good—great—for all of them.
“You two go, and I’ll catch you maybe for dessert.” That tightness again spread across Lucy’s chest as she watched not just Delia’s smile fade but the light dull in Maddie’s eyes. “I wanted to wait until Lit was a success—which, of course we knew it would be.” She grinned, but neither of her teammates did. “Right, but, turns out, I’m having dinner with Ryan tonight.”
“Like a date?” Delia said.
“No, furthest from. He asked me because . . .” She took a deep breath and gushed, “He wants to take it to market. Lit. Funding, scaling, everything. And that was before we killed it in the beta test.”
Delia’s eyes widened. “Really?”
“Yeah, really?” Maddie said. “Because doesn’t that go against the spirit of ValleyStart?”
“ValleyStart is an incubator,” Lucy said. “Can’t help it if we’re ready to hatch.”
“We’re supposed to be learning, working hard, and making real connections,” Maddie said. “Like I did with my own business. Like Nishi did. This . . . things don’t come this easily.”
“Easily?” Delia said with uncharacteristic irritation in her voice. “This isn’t easy, Maddie, none of it. We’ve all worked hard. We deserve this.” She faced Lucy. “We should come, shouldn’t we? We can help. That way you don’t have to do this all by yourself.”
Contrary to what she would have expected, the idea of not going alone set Lucy at ease. Delia could field the technical questions, and Maddie . . . Lucy thought back on every negative thing Maddie had said about Ryan and about Pulse. She could ruin the deal.
“Wait to hear from me,” Lucy said reluctantly. “I’m not sure if I was supposed to say anything yet. Ryan mentioned Thai, so we’re probably going to one of the places in town. If it seems okay, I’ll send a Lyft for you.”
Maddie rolled her eyes.
Delia didn’t bother to hide her disappointment either. “Okay, yeah, text us.”
Lucy held Delia’s gaze. “I will. Promise.”
These were her teammates. They’d stuck together this far. And now, they’d get everything they wanted. Lucy was sure of it.
* * *
* * *
Nerves eased, and excitement built as Lucy waited for Ryan outside the student center. The ValleyStart message board was buzzing about Lit’s beta test—and about Lucy, about Lucy skyrocketing to Crushing It.
Crushing. It.
♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥
Got a Pulse?
Yeah, she did.
Her newfound status gave their test a boost, for sure.
The power of Pulse.
The power . . .
Lucy sucked in her lip.
Aw, what the hell.
She grabbed her phone, opened the Stanford portal, and sent a message. She would have an additional letter of recommendation from Ryan Thompson, founder of Pulse, the following day. She hesitated, then added that as a Level 10 she would be sure to represent Stanford well at all her Pulse events to come.
Any and every advantage, right?
Ryan soon appeared from inside the student center. He was wearing jeans, a white linen shirt, and a khaki blazer. Lucy was glad she’d dressed up—let him know she was taking this as seriously as he was.
“Now, don’t you look like someone who’s Crushing It?” he said.
“You saw?”
“I saw.” He led her to his red Tesla convertible and opened the door for her. “Might want to put that jacket on, Lucy; it can get chilly with the top down.”
“Oh, that’s okay. It’s a short ride to town.”
“Yes, it is, but we’re not going to town. I hope you cleared your calendar for the evening, because I do believe all ten of your hearts have been left in San Francisco.”
* * *
* * *
“Thank you,” Lucy said as the hostess switched out the white cloth napkin for a black one so as not to leave lint on her dress. She then turned to Ryan. “This is amazing. My only complaint about the Valley is that it’s not right on the ocean.”
Lucy had been in San Francisco a hundred times but never like this. With a waterfront table—the only waterfront table, as Ryan had bought out the entire outside patio—framing the Ferry Building’s iconic tower and beautiful white clock in the foreground and the artfully lit Bay Bridge in the background. Patio heaters surrounded them, nestling them in a cocoon of warmth.
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