A Kiss For You

by Rachel Van Dyken

  “Okay,” I said, standing up a little straighter. “I’ll do it.”

  Ramona smiled, big and genuine and relieved. “When?”

  And I sighed against the mounting pressure in my chest. “No time like the present. I’ve got a few hours — I’ll swing by now. And maybe I’ll bring tacos as a peace offering. He can’t be mad at me if I’m holding tacos. It’s a physical law of the universe.”

  Veronica laughed, and I only wished tacos were a guarantee.

  The game glitched. Again.

  I huffed and raked a hand through my hair, opening the code to comb through it. Again.

  I’d done nothing for three days but work, sleep, and eat. My phone had stayed in my nightstand where I left it, and though I was fully occupied with the game, a little piece of my mind was always on Penny.

  I was grateful for the distraction work provided.

  Sorting through how I felt was too hard.

  Numbers were simple. They didn’t play games or lie — it was fact. You couldn’t argue with math. It was unfeeling and logical and right.

  It was a shame hearts didn’t work the same way. They were the exact opposite of facts and reason. Hearts wanted what they wanted, regardless of the truth. And mine wanted Penny.

  The sensible part of me — my brain — told me to just let it go. For the most part, I had. And the truth was, even though I wanted Penny, I didn’t know if I wanted to be with her. Not at the status quo.

  And that left me straddling the fence of her corral with no idea which way to go.

  In any event, I had no time to expend on the decision. And that lack of time was a blessing, a bridge to put space between us that I desperately needed. So instead of thinking of the fight or how I missed her or how she’d hurt me, I filled my brain with ones and zeroes, a buzzing hum of logic that comforted me.

  Well, not at the moment. At the moment, I was wrestling with the same string of code I’d been fighting since I woke up.

  A knock rapped at the door, and when Jude answered and I heard the voice on the other side of the threshold, I spun around in my chair, stood numbly, and walked toward the sound.

  The first and last person I’d expected to find on my welcome mat that day was Penny.

  She stood in the hallway, sneakers turned in, shoulders rounded, red bottom lip between her teeth and eyes uncertain. She looked beautiful, sweet and beautiful and dangerous, with a bag stamped with the name Taco Town clutched in her hands.

  Jude and I exchanged places at the door, and rather than moving to let her in, I stepped out and closed the door, leaving us alone in the hallway.

  Somehow, she shrank into herself even more.

  “Hey,” she said simply.

  “Hey,” I echoed.

  And then we stood there in the hallway with a thousand words hanging in the air.

  She broke the silence. “I brought you some tacos.”

  Penny held out the bag, and I took it, opening it to look inside, not knowing what else to do. Five minutes ago, I’d been starving. Now I didn’t know if I’d ever eat again.

  “Thanks.” I rolled the bag back up. “What’s up?”

  Her eyes were down, and she slipped her hands into her back pockets. “I … I’m sorry to just show up like this, but I hadn’t heard from you, and …” She took a deep breath and met my eyes. “I’m sorry, Bodie. For everything. For bailing on you. For taking you to that stupid show. For hurting you. I’m … I’m sorry, and I was wrong.”

  I pulled in a deep breath through my nose and let it go. “Thank you.”

  Everything else I wanted to say piled up in my throat.

  “I didn’t want to go to the show, and I tried to argue, but I … I just wanted to see you so badly, and I didn’t want to upset you any worse than I already had, not until I had a chance to talk to you.” She took a breath and looked down again. “I know I don’t deserve you, and I don’t deserve another shot, but I need to know if I have one. Is there a way to go back? To fix things?”

  I ran my fingers across my lips and tried to put the words together the right way. “Penny, I’ve gotta be honest. Right now, I am just … I’m so done. You’re right; you hurt me, but I can’t even blame you. But this isn’t about the other night. This is about us. I can’t keep up with you like I thought I’d be able to. You were always honest — you told me from the jump what you wanted, but I didn’t listen. I thought … I thought I could tame you, convince you I was worth keeping. But I didn’t think about what it would cost me. Play with fire and get burned, right? And, Pen — you are fire.”

  She took a breath but didn’t say anything, just worked her bottom lip between her teeth, chin flexed like she might cry.

  Please, God, don’t let her cry.

  “But the bottom line is that I can’t deal with this right now. I’ve put so much on hold for you, for us, but now … now I need to go all in with the game, with my dream. Our meeting is tomorrow, and we’ve got so much to do that I don’t have the bandwidth to figure out you and me. This game, Jude and Phil — this is my life. This is everything I’ve been working for, and it’s happening right now. And I can’t handle anything besides that. I’m sorry.”

  She nodded, her breath shaky. I could see she was definitely about to cry, and I wanted to scoop her into my arms and hold her, tell her I wanted her and needed her. But what I’d said was true. Penny was a white-hot flame, and I was made of wax. Holding her would ruin me.

  “I’m sorry too,” she said, looking up at me again with a smile meant to be brave.

  That smile broke my heart into a thousand pieces, scattered on the floor with the broken glass of the penny jar.

  She took a breath with shining eyes and said, “Hit me up, Bodie, if things change.”

  And I nodded and watched her walk away.

  I hurried away from Bodie with tears burning my throat and sneakers flying as I rushed down the stairs and outside, dragging in a breath so heavy with humidity and pain and regret that I felt like I was drowning.

  It was over.

  It was over, and it was my fault.

  I wrapped my arms around my ribs and walked with no destination in mind, only desire to get as far away from my problems as humanly possible. Maybe I could find a cheap, last-minute flight to Tokyo. Or Budapest. Or Mars.

  The exchange had been everything I’d feared, except somehow infinitely worse in reality than my imagination had been able to conjure. The look on his face, the resigned tone, the sadness in his eyes when he let me down gently.

  But there was no amount of care that could have stopped me from breaking completely when I hit the ground.

  The lump in my throat was sticky and hard, and I swallowed it down painfully only for it to bob back up.

  Over, over, over. The word echoed with every footstep.

  I’d come for closure and gotten it. I’d gotten it so hard, I might never get over it.

  Avalanche

  Phil paced across the waiting room of Avalanche’s headquarters in Midtown, and I stared at my hands clasped between my knees with steam under the collar of my tailored shirt.

  Jude seemed completely calm. The subtle façade of not giving a fuck in action. It was for show, though. He was just as nervous as the rest of us were.

  We’d presented our demo to a handful of execs, which was weird to say since they were wearing jeans. One guy even had a T-shirt on with a binary joke on it that made me think of Penny. Because even then, even during our presentation, she’d found a way into my head.

  I’d done all the talking, and when they had gotten their hands on the controllers and started to play, I’d found hope. Every one of them had gone wide-eyed, and as I’d pitched the story to them, their smiles had brightened just enough to betray their attempts to keep their poker faces on.

  It had gone well. Very well.

  But I counted on nothing as we waited for them in the lobby of their office.

  My palms were damp and nerves shot as our hopes and dreams hung in the b
alance of a few quiet minutes.

  It won’t be the end if they don’t take us, I told myself.

  There were dozens more companies we could pitch to if this didn’t work out, especially now that the demo was finished. But this … this was the holy grail, the absolute, the top of the list. The dream. The fact that we’d even gotten a meeting was unreal. The hopes of it getting better than that felt too slim to count on.

  The doors to the conference room opened, and we were invited back, so we filed in and took seats. I was so nervous, I thought I might combust. But outwardly, I tried to keep cool, scanning their faces for some hint as to what they’d say.

  Paul, the CEO spoke first. “I’d like to start by saying that we don’t make a habit of keeping designers here while we talk, but I have to say — we were impressed.”

  Hope sprang, putting out the fear with a sizzle.

  “You’ve hit all the high notes. The story is epic, and the twist … the twist just makes the whole thing sweeter. We see a three-game series over the course of six years. Breakneck, I know, but with our team and your brains, I think it’s feasible. That is, if you’re still interested in a partnership with us.”

  I blinked, trying to remember to breathe. “Absolutely.”

  Paul smiled. “Great. We’ve got to get with our team to put together the numbers, but we’d like to offer you a deal. This is one of the best demos we’ve seen — the hard work you’ve put into it is the real reason we feel comfortable taking the step — so we want you all to come in on lead positions to help us get the game produced just how you want it. You’ll retain a level of control over everything — story, content, gameplay, UI — though it’ll ultimately need approval. But I give you my word; this is your story, your vision, and because we like what we see, we’ll put our trust in you. What do you think?”

  I glanced at Phil and Jude, who nodded their approval. And then I smiled back at Paul. “I think you’ve got yourself a deal.”

  We beamed as we all shook hands, and with another meeting on the books to discuss details, the three of us headed out of the office. When we made it outside, we broke into jumps and laughter and back-clapping and bro hugs, and I thought my heart might blow from sheer joy. Because we’d done it. The hard work had paid off.

  We’d just landed jobs at one of the best game design companies in America.

  Once we caught our breaths, Phil pulled out his phone to call Angie, and Jude got his phone out too, wandering off to talk to who knew who.

  Before I knew it, my phone was in my hand and my thumb was hovering over Penny’s name.

  I’d been so caught up that I’d forgotten we weren’t okay. I’d forgotten I couldn’t just call her, not without answering questions I didn’t have a response for. Not without making a move I didn’t know I was ready to make.

  I pictured her face as she’d stood before me on my doormat, the smallness of her in the expanse of the hallway. She was all of a sudden the only person in the world I wanted to talk to, and the last person who I could.

  The worst part was that I wasn’t even mad anymore. I was hurt and sad and exhausted by her, but I wasn’t mad. And I missed her.

  A sick, masochistic part of me — my heart — wanted to give it another shot, wanted to hear her out and try again. The rest of me — my brain — told me I’d already slammed my hand in the door once, making a point of reliving the pain in an attempt to convince me not to do it again.

  In the end, I figured they were probably both wrong. Because either way I looked at it, I was damaged, and I didn’t know how or when I’d recover.

  Moby Fucking Dick

  My room was dark even though it was after noon. Between the stormy day and my drawn curtains, I found myself happily miserable, buried in my sheets and blankets, listening to my Sad Panda playlist on repeat.

  I’d done nothing but work and sleep for two days, and that morning, I’d woken up at seven, completely rested and still completely exhausted. I existed in that in-between — that state of mind where you couldn’t physically sleep anymore, but you couldn’t get out of bed either, folding in on yourself like origami until you disappeared. So I’d made plans to do absolutely nothing on my day off besides lie in bed and stare at my wall.

  There was just so much to think about. I counted my mistakes and regrets in a loop like “99 Bottles of Beer on the Wall,” though less cheery and somehow infinitely more depressing and obnoxious. I’d exhausted my tears. At least, I thought I had. Every time I’d said it, they’d find their way back again, pricking the corners of my eyes.

  It was over. And it was all my fault.

  I sighed and rolled over, pulling a pillow into my aching chest.

  My bedroom door flew open, and Veronica stood in the frame, hands on her hips like an unamused Wonder Woman. “Why are you still in bed?” she asked like she didn’t know the answer.

  I frowned and sank a little deeper into my blanket burrito. “Leave me alone, Ronnie.”

  “Nope.” In three steps, she was at the foot of my bed with my blankets in her fists. She pulled, effectively subjecting me to the cruel, cruel world.

  I scrambled to catch the covers before they were gone, but they lay in a pile on the floor, and Ronnie’s hands were back on her stupid traitorous hips.

  “Come on, smelly. You’ve been locked in here listening to Mazzy Star for days. You need a shower and a drink and a new playlist.”

  I covered my face with my pillow and curled up in a ball like I could hide. “Go away.”

  “Nope! Get up!” The bed dipped as she climbed on, stood up, and started jumping.

  “Ugh!”

  I flung a pillow at her, and she laughed, catching it midair to toss it behind her.

  “Whoops, you lost another place to hide.” She put a little more force into her bouncing, sending me jostling.

  I grabbed another pillow and threw it but was thwarted again. “I hate you.”

  “Liar.”

  She giggled and stopped jumping, lying down next to me. Her face softened, her smile cajoling. “Seriously, though, let’s go do something.”

  I pouted, curling up even tighter. “I don’t wanna.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Real mature.”

  “Everything sucks.”

  “Everything doesn’t suck,” she corrected. “Just one thing.”

  I groaned. “But that one thing really, really sucks. I don’t think he’s going to call me.”

  She didn’t answer right away. “Maybe not. Maybe so. You just have to wait and see.”

  “Waiting sucks too. Time sucks. Breaking up sucks. Everything sucks. See?”

  “It’s only been two days, Pen,” she said gently. “Give him a little more time.”

  “He had his meeting. I wonder how it went. I wonder if he’s okay.” I paused. “I should call him.”

  She gave me a look.

  “Ugh, don’t look at me like that. Are you gonna slap my phone out of my hand again if I try?”

  “Maybe.”

  I groaned. “But I can’t call him. You’re right. I’m trying to respect his space.” My face bent under the weight of my conflict. “God, can’t you just go sleep with Jude to find out what’s going on over there?”

  “Ha, ha.” She pulled my last pillow out from under my head and pressed it over my face like she was going to suffocate me.

  We laughed for a second, and then I groaned again. “This sucks.”

  “All right, you win. Everything sucks.”

  “Thank you.”

  “But this is ridiculous.”

  My face went flat. “Thanks.”

  “What? It is, and you know it. Seriously, if I hear ‘Fade into You’ one more time, I’m going to open a vein. So let’s get you cleaned up and out of the house. Even if just for a minute. Even if just for tacos.”

  “I don’t want tacos.”

  One of her brows rose. “Wow. You really are fucked up.”

  “Told you.”

  “Okay, then call
him.”

  “Oh, so now you’ll let me call him?” I huffed. “I can’t, and you know it. I literally just said that.”

  “I know, and I take it back. I’m changing my tune since my old tune is worn out, and you clearly don’t want to hear it. If you want to talk to him, call him.”

  “He said he didn’t have time to ‘deal’ right now.” I made air quotes with one hand.

  “I mean, I guess you can’t really blame him.”

  “I don’t,” I said sadly. “I don’t blame him at all. I blame me. I’m the one who did this. He’s right; I kept all my feelings to myself, and this was the result. I hurt him, Ronnie. I don’t even know if I deserve to have him back. So I’m at an emotional impasse.”

  She watched me for a second. “All right, then how about going back?” Somewhere in her twinkling eyes, I thought she might be baiting me.

  I frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “Let’s get Old Penny back. The girl who doesn’t do relationships because of exactly this.”

  A tiny sliver of hope shone on me as she continued.

  “You’re like this about guys because you don’t want to get hurt. You just lived through a self-fulfilling prophecy. So, why not adopt the old rule again? Revive it. Bring it back from the dead.”

  I smiled for the first time in days as I relit the pilot light in my heart. “Yes. Yes! Old Penny is fucking smart. Feelings are dumb and stupid and ruin lives. I was so much happier when I had the rule and boundaries. You’re right. I can’t believe you’re actually right. We should mark the calendar.”

  She laughed and pinched me in the arm. “Okay, so let’s go out and prove how smart Old Penny is. We can go to Diesel and see Cody. Remember Cody? He always puts you in a good mood.”

  I sighed dreamily. “How could I forget? That’s no man. That’s a god, covered in tattoos. And he has that hair.”

  “Gah, that hair. That hair should have its own Tumblr.”