if I do say so myself.”
The smile I received at this wasn't so much impressed as it was patronizing. It fucking stung, that smile. The agent said, “That sounds like a real promising start. Keep taking classes and perfecting your craft, and I am sure there are big things in your future.”
A promising start? Perfect my craft? If he only knew the level of hacking I was capable of. The string of credit card numbers—including hacking the database of a notorious black card company—I’d scored before I’d turned twenty? He’d be salivating. Only I couldn't exactly put that on a resume without also landing myself in a heap of legal trouble.
As the conversation came to a close, there was no doubt that the agent had made up his mind who he could see in the job that was currently open.
Spoiler alert: It wasn't me.
Numbness flowed through my brain and body as Aiden and I walked out of the office. My mind was rifling through every sentence and interaction of that conversation, trying to decipher where it went so wrong. Everything had been going so great for me, and I allowed myself to believe the next natural progression was my dream job.
Beside me, Aiden was practically buzzing with excitement. His enthusiasm felt a little bit like a cheese grater rubbing at me, determined to shred at any remaining dignity I might have.
“I really think this might be it,” Aiden was saying. He was using his hands as he talked, his gestures large and fast. “I didn't know he was looking so closely at me. Can you believe it?”
I struggled to find the right response. One that was supportive and genuine and didn't feel like a lie. Unfortunately, it took too long to try to think of something, and Aiden stopped walking and turned to me. “What's wrong? Aren't you excited?”
My mouth was moving before a filter could fit in place between my brain and my lips. “Were you in the same meeting that I was? How could you have missed the way I was dismissed over and over again by that agent?”
Aiden's face drained of color and he took a half step back. “Oh, damn. I'm sorry—I wasn’t thinking. I was just so caught up in my own excitement.”
His admission only served to make me feel like a dick. After all, it wasn't Aiden's fault that the agent had been interested in him. And it wasn't as if I hadn't known all along that we were competing for the same job, and that one of us would be on the losing end. I just…hadn’t expected it to be me.
I sighed deeply. “No, I'm the one who should be sorry. I just wasn't expecting to be ignored. I'm being a bit of a baby when I should be supportive of you.”
Pink blossomed in Aiden's cheeks and he stepped closer to me and put his hands on my shoulders. I tried to appreciate the comfort he was offering, but it was a struggle. “You know as well as I do that you’re qualified for that position. A single conversation in a professor’s office isn’t going to make or break your chances for that job, or one just like it. I know you could prove yourself easily, so don't give up now—because I don't date quitters.”
Aiden was too good for me, that much was becoming obvious. Although it could be argued that it's much easier to be empathetic from the position of being a winner. Still, I appreciated Aiden's being able to both understand how I was feeling and champion my future, even if that meeting still stung. My hands found his waist, and I pulled him in for a quick kiss.
“I've got to get to my next class,” I said. I pressed another kiss on his cheek. “I'm working tonight, so text me later and we'll figure out a time to hang out, okay?”
Aiden nodded and I could still feel the energy that was pulsing in his body. That he was working on keeping hidden from me out of respect. Grudging appreciation seeped in to mix with my disappointment. “Okay. I'll text you later.”
He kissed me again, this time with a bit more enthusiasm. Someone whistled off to the side, a reminder that we were still on campus.
He pulled away and practically skipped off to his next class. I walked away with more of a sulk to my step than a skip.
By the time I reached work, I'd managed to build up a