I grin at her, noting her features that mirror my own. We share square jaws and rounded noses and big smiles. Not that Mom smiles much, but when she does, it lights up a room. I place the snow globe in my bag and readjust the box in my arms, resting my free handon Mom’s shoulder. “Can you let Talia know I’m going back to the print shop to try to get these Fate Notes fixed? Or to at least get my money back.”
Mom pulls a pocket-size sketchbook from her coat pocket. “I’ve got makeshift Fate Notes right here. Go, but hurry.”
“What else have you got in those pockets? You’re a magician!” I say with a gasp.
Mom’s smile widens slightly. “Go!”
“I give you permission to yell at people who are using this as a garbage can. Otherwise, don’t frighten people away, please!” I shout as I head out of the park and toward the print shop.
Behind me, I hear Mom laughing maniacally.
Chapter 2
JACK
For a print shop with a name like Sprinters NYC, they’re not nearly as fast as I would’ve thought.
Fifteen minutes have passed since I dropped off my order for more pamphlets. Usually, an unexpected increase in crowd size is a good thing. But of course, today of all days, I only have a dozen pamphlets printed for my presentation this afternoon.
I’m sitting in the corner checking my email when congratulatory messages about the senior engineer role I had applied for multiply in my in-box. But the kind emails aren’t for me. They’re for a man named Marvin coming over from the Moon Mission.
A new message from my boss, Annika, appears.
Hi Jackson,
Sorry I missed you before the announcement went out about the Senior Engineer position. The decision committee typically likes to see participation in projects outside of your day-to-day work. I’d like to see you teach others about the mission and what we do and share your knowledge in a more inspiring way. Maybe letting people get to know you on a personal level might help, too. Let’s keep an eye out for more opportunities for you. Maybe volunteering to serve on special committees in thecompany? Your presentation at the conference today will be a great starting point. Let’s talk more when you’re back.
Three times. That’s three times now that I’ve been passed over for a promotion. I was sure this time would be my chance. It wasn’t the title I coveted, though I can’t say I hate the way Jackson Liu, senior engineer at NASA, sounds.
But more than a title, more than a raise, promotions are validating. A reassurance that you’re adding value. That you’re worth keeping around. Maybe my parents would notice a new title. I’m good at what I do. Why can’t that be enough? Why do I have to tell people what I’m doing on the weekends or spend work time volunteering? And on special committees? What does that even mean?
The young man with curly auburn hair who helped me earlier comes up from behind the counter with an apologetic look on his face. “It’s almost done. Sorry, man. You’ll be out of here in no time,” he says.
I look at the time on my watch. “How long do you think?”
“Another twenty minutes or so? The printer’s jammed. I got this one out at least,” the print shop employee says, waving my pamphlet in the air. “This is sweet. You giving a talk about Mars or something?”
“I am,” I say, offering only this much information.
“Are you an astronaut?” he asks.
“I’m not.”
“Oh, I know! You must be, like, Elon Musk’s right-hand man. You look smart. Am I warm?”
I run my hand down my face. “Not even close,” I groan, looking at his name tag for an identifier of some sort, “Dave.”
Dave scratches his chin. “Jeffrey Bezos’s right-hand man? Or Richard Bran—”
“I’m a systems engineer at NASA,” I finally say to put an end to the twenty questions. Which is all I’ll ever be unless I join a special committee or rub with the right elbows. What’s so special about doing free work?
“Right on!” he says.
“These pamphlets are important,” I mumble as he’s still reading through one. I don’t add that these pamphlets are for one of the most important missions I’ve ever been a part of. With the most responsibility I’ve ever had, with or without the promotion. If I do well at this conference, the decision committee might actually start to take notice. “Are you supposed to be reading what your customers print?”
He tilts his head. “I couldn’t help but notice this sick image of the Red Planet. We’re going to be vacationing there one day, you know. It says here there’s ice. When this melts, we can surf those melted waves all day long,” Dave states, nodding vigorously. “Oh, hey, I can give you a discount code for next time for your troubles!”
I awkwardly return his nod. “Thanks. But I’m only in town for a conference. I’ll do a lap around the block until the pamphlets are done.”
