It’s not like we are on the poverty line. I’d like to think our parents would help us out if we really,reallyneeded it. Especially Cecily’s, whose generational wealth makes the royal family look penniless. But I could never ask her to do that. They want her to either join her family business or give them several grandchildren, and unfortunately one of our few shared personality traits is stubbornness and pride, and disappointing our parents is the worst-case scenario. I can’t disappoint my parents, not again. Maybe, for me, it’s the twin thing; having a sibling in the same school year, same classes, and the same stages of life has always made the natural comparisons so easy. I was always better at exams and schoolwork; Spencer was always popular and beloved. I’ve never asked my parents why they didn’t encourage me to help Spencer with school and him to introduce me to his friends, but our differences ate away at our childhoods, the bite marks still showing now.
Spencer’s hand trembles as he pulls the coin across once to reveal a blast of red underneath the gray, shiny surface. I can already feel the tears of relief stinging my eyes.
He excitedly scratches the remainder off to reveal a big red cross. A visual game show–style buzzer screaming “EH-EH.” My chest deflates, letting the dream ride a one-way journey on the CO2out of my lungs.
We sit in an embarrassed silence for a few seconds, until finally, Spencer’s green eyes flick to mine. “Do you think that waste plant is still hiring?”
With a sigh of resignation, I press submit on the TechRumble application without another thought.
Chapter 3
Business Account (WYST) BALANCE: £12,120.57
Personal Account BALANCE: -£1,960.63
Recent Transactions:
Office rent: £1,096.00
The next morning I stare at the latest post on Dr. Bernie’s Instagram. Our meeting with her is in an hour, and my nerves are getting the better of me. Scrolling through her posts I stop on an image of her looking immaculate in a deep purple velvet suit sitting on a panel holding a microphone. A quote surrounds her in a trendy font like she’s a new age prophet:Without failure, there would be no progress.I have to laugh because if that was the case, I’d have a Fortune 500 company by now.
As Cecily and I finish packing our bags and decide the best bus route to get to the hotel, Spencer’s head pops up from above his computer. “Hey, this email might be a scam, but I’m gonna forward it to you just in case. If you click the link and it’s porn, it’s not my fault.”
I furrow my brow and click on the fresh email as it pops into my phone’s inbox.
FWD: [email protected]
From: Odericco Investments
Subject: Your Application
Dear Mr. Cole,
Thank you for your application to TechRumble’s open call for start-up pitches.
We would like to schedule a call to discuss further.
Please select a preferred time for a call tomorrow:
2:30 p.m.
3 p.m.
3:30 p.m.
4 p.m.
Mr. Kavanagh
Odericco Investments
Everyone turns to me as I gasp, “Oh my god!” My hands shake as I reread the words “discuss further” over and over again.
Cecily jumps up to see what’s on my screen. “Oh shit! You got an interview?” She takes the phone out of my hand and immediately scowls. “Wait, Jess... You know when we were saying you should change your prefix to Mr. and apply as a man?”
“Yeah.” I laugh at the ridiculous idea, high on approval adrenaline.
“You know that we were joking, right? That was a joke.” Her eyes flick back to me, a mix of confusion and dread on her face.
