An hour later, I’m banging my head against the table, ready to quit my job and apply to work here with Janelle when the front door chimes. I look up in time to see Calvin stride into the coffee shop. He scans the area, catches sight of me, and raises one eyebrow. I wave him toward the front. He’s going to need his morning fix before dealing with me.
These emails will have to wait. I shut my laptop and shove it back into my bag when the front door chimes again. This time, Lizzie walks in, but she heads straight for the counter without scanning the room for me. Nothing gets between her and her morning caffeine.
Grabbing my cup, I sit back and finish what’s left of my now-cold drink and watch my best friend and brother at the counter. He says something that makes Lizzie laugh so hard she snorts. I smile. I love being the one who makes her laugh like that, but there’s something extra special about sitting back and watching it happen. It’s the sound, warm and inviting, that shoots straight through to my heart, and when her smiling eyes turn toward me, all of my insecurities melt away. If anyone can make me feel better about this awful situation, it’s her.
“You look like hell.” Calvin sits across from me and, a second later, Lizzie sits beside me and hands me another caramel macchiato. I stare at it like it’s the plague. “Life is short. Say ‘thank you, Lizzie,’ and enjoy it.”
“Thank you, Lizzie.”
She smiles cheekily. “You’re welcome. Why the long face?”
I take a deep breath and proceed to tell Calvin and Lizzie the dreaded details of my phone call with Ryan. When I’m done, they’re both staring at me with blank looks on their faces.
“Say something,” I demand.
Calvin clears his throat and looks at Lizzie, who waves at him to go first. “I don’t see what the big deal is.”
“The big deal is that it’s an educational game. That’s not what I do.”
“You could,” Lizzie says as though it’ll be the easiest thing I’ve ever done. “You just don’t want to.”
“You’re right, I don’t.”
“Why?” she asks.
“Does it matter why? I just don’t want to.”
“I do things every single day that I don’t want to do,” Calvin says, earning himself a high-five from Lizzie. “Quit feeling sorry for yourself and just do it.”
“That’s the problem, I don’t know where to start.”
“What was your favorite video game growing up?”
I look at Lizzie. “Pac-Man.”
She smiles because it was her favorite game, too. I remember one year my dad dragged out his old Atari. The thing was ancient. He taught Lizzie and me how to play Pac-Man, and I swear we spent the entire summer in front of the TV gobbling up ghosts.
“Good. Now, tell me what you hated learning the most in school. Was it math, language, or—”
“Prepositions,” Calvin tosses out. “I hated prepositions. Above, about, across, after, along, among, around, at,” he starts, singing the words to the tune of Yankee Doodle. “Before, beside—”
I hold my hand up. “We get it. You don’t have to finish.”
“I hated it. Our teacher made us learn that damn preposition song. To this day I still can’t get it out of my head.”
“I think it’s cute,” Lizzie says. “And that, my dear friend Aiden, is where you start.”
I stare at her, hoping that whatever she’s thinking will somehow filter its way into my brain, but nothing happens.
Lizzie rolls her eyes. “You build the game to fit the grade. I’m guessing prepositions are probably fifth grade. What do fifth-grade boys like?”
“Girls,” Calvin and I say at the same time.
Calvin grins, and we bump fists.
“Besides girls.”
“Dragons,” I say, remembering a book series I read in elementary school.