A/N: Howdy! I made a playlist for this fic:
playlist/40ZUxgQe8V86vWCemUC7Pc?si=BHjaKG3_QEOb3icBMJzTOQ
I may add/rearrange songs as time goes on, just FYI.
The whole day was spent trying to prove myself. I was 25 going on 26 and believed I owed no one an explanation for my existence, but I was meant to help Craig with his Master's project (which he oh so lovingly brought up at least twice before lunch and once after), in some form, so I needed to provide reassurance. According to Bebe, I'm not very good at it.
But I wanted to show I belonged there. It bothered me that Craig was so cautious of Dr. Vince's judgment that I silently accused him of being misogynistic, but decided after a few hours of working with him, that the accusation was unfair, and he was wholeheartedly just a general prick.
I avoided speaking to him directly, relaying my findings to Dr. Vince, even if Craig was standing right next to me. When I spoke, out of the corner of my eye I could see him stop what he was doing and listen. Figuring he was letting his guard down, understanding that I was a peer who deserved respect, I turned to him - maybe he would finally smile back, or his eyes might turn softer and he'd piggyback onto my words and I could be relieved from further private criticisms.
I looked.
His expression still read cold.
Cold enough to stir up a snowstorm in the dead of summer. Careful, Kyle. Don't fall through the ice.
The look pierced me, and perhaps I shouldn't have looked back, but we have to look at everything even if it kills us. We have to look. We have to know. What is even the real etiquette of looking?
I turned not only my body away, but anything else within me that could register his presence. Even when Dr. Vince left around 4:30 to pick up her daughter from daycare, and we had a half-hour to ourselves, we didn't speak. 30 minutes ticked on forever, and I daydreamed of already being at home, tucked away somewhere else. I pretended my body wasn't there.
When 5 finally came, he let me out first, then locked the door behind us. He adjusted his backpack straps, then took a step in the direction I came that morning. I began to walk back the other way, to the stairs, so we wouldn't ride the elevator together.
"See ya," he said.
"Yep, see ya," I said, unintentionally mimicking his tone, then added, with a bit of a sting: "It was nice meeting you."
He stopped. "Are you not coming back?"
"What? Of course I am."
"Then why did you say that?"
"Because I met you today?"
"Sounds weird. Maybe save that for when summer is over."
"Will do."
He stepped into the elevator, and I waited, went to the window, watched him leave the building, walk by a fountain, through the trees, and into the parking lot, texting the whole time. Then I went down.
…
"So, how was your big boy job - oh, going straight for the fridge. Oh, straight for the alcohol.Jesus, Kahl."
I chugged in the middle of the kitchen while Cartman sat at our plastic dining table. Kenny had already left for his night shift. When the can was empty, I wiped my lip with my arm and dove into the fridge for another.
"Looks like it went well…"
"I think I should quit."
Cartman looked up from his phone scrolling to watch me lean, exasperated against the counter, rubbing my eyes.
"Why? Was it really that bad?"
"I like the job a lot, it's just… the grad assistant. He's totally stuck up and it stresses me out. He doesn't think I'm smart enough to be there."
"He said that to you?"
"Well, no. But it was insinuated from the way he talked to me. The way he looked at me."
"What's his name?"
"Craig."
"Makes sense. People named Craig are usually assholes.
Somehow this made me feel better. Of course, Craig isn't an asshole by choice, I mused, it's the role he must abide for his namesake.
"Maybe, though," Cartman continued. "Maybe he's shy."
I almost spit out my 8-Bit Pale Ale. "Shy?! How?"
"Well he's probably just a socially awkward nerd, all holed up in that lab all the time. Or he's anxious. Like you."
"Doubt."
"Sometimes when you're really anxious, you get a bit snappy. Maybe he's too used to working alone."
"I guess. Who knows."
"It's just a thought. But seriously, don't quit because of him. I'll come kick him the nuts if you need me to."
"I'll do my own nut-kicking, thanks."
He went back to scrolling, and I retreated to my room to change into my outside clothes. I spent the rest of the evening drinking, shoveling, tearing, and planting as the pink sky stretched into purple and orange and blue.
