50
LINCOLN
[21 weeks ago]
@theanswerisno:
I’ve put in hundreds of hours on this game and I’m still not done. I don’t know if I want to keep going. I’m not enjoying it anymore.
@pancakesareelite:
Then stop
@theanswerisno:
Didn’t you hear me?
I put in hundreds of hours.
@pancakesareelite:
I heard the part where you said you’re not enjoying it anymore
@pancakesareelite:
Come on, let’s play something else
Knowing Elizabeth would still be locked in to her final test, I went straight to Anders’s office, half expecting him to know about the job offer. I knocked once and let myself in.
Anders’s head zapped up. “Shut the door behind you.”
The door snicked shut, leaving only the sound of Anders’s heavy sigh. Heavier than usual.
I slipped into a seat. “What’s so urgent?”
Anders ran a hand back and forth over his bald head. “How do I even ask you this?”
On a good day, I’d enjoy seeing him tongue-twisted and panicked, but this was different. The reason hit me seconds before he asked, “Is it true? Are you having… relations with Gordon-
Bettencourt? Tell me it isn’t.” He shut his eyes.
Panic bloomed in my chest, but I stomped it down. I’d prepared for this scenario. “Yes.”
“Dammit, Carden. Couldn’t you have lied to me?” Anders laid his head on the desk.
The room shrunk in the seconds passing. My fingers found a tear in the leather armrest. “What good would that have done?”
“Well, for one, I wouldn’t have to get HR involved. This relationship will need to be disclosed. You’re her superior, Carden.”
I kept fidgeting with the tear, my eyes focused on a spot on his desk. I turned his words over and over in my mind until my own thoughts burst out of me. “Well, I don’t want to be.”
I’d planned to chat with Elizabeth about it first, I’d planned to chat with my mom, and I’d even planned to ruminate on it for days, weeks, and months. But sitting here, across from Barry Anders for what felt like the millionth time in a decade, I was sure of my decision to leave.
I shut my eyes, waiting for the world to fall apart at my confession. But it didn’t. I glanced at my boss.
“What do you mean?” Anders asked.
“I don’t want the promotion. I don’t want to manage. I don’t want… this.” I gestured toward him. “Can you picture me being you?”
