Slowly Claudia spreads the fingers that are covering her face. She winces when she sees the blank screen. She keeps hoping she’ll see something different — a page full of words, preferably. But they’re not there, so she squeezes her fingers shut again, blocking out the view.
~ ~ ~
On Monday morning, Sophie gives her two weeks notice.
“Are you out of your mind?” Arden asks, slamming the letter down on her desk. “In this shit economy, you’re going to throw away a good job that you’re excelling at? In one of the few industries that doesn’t need a bailout?”
Sophie sighs. “Arden, I’m sorry. This just isn’t the right time, the right fit–”
“Bullshit. Don’t give me those lines, Soph. We both know better.” The usually impenetrable mogul-ess pinches the bridge of her nose, as if the stress of this is too much to bear. “You’re breaking my heart.”
Sophie says nothing. She knows this is all part of Arden’s drama, part of the show Arden puts on for her employees, who watch intently through the glass walls of her office.
As if reading her mind, Arden looks up suddenly and stares Sophie straight in the eyes. “I’ve never said this to anyone who quit, but I mean it: if you change your mind, you’ll still have a place here.”
That isn’t in the script. “Uh… Thank you,” Sophie manages through her surprise.
“Just do me a favor,” Arden says in a soft, sincere voice. “Change your mind soon. You remind me of me at your age, which means you’re one of the few people around here I trusted.”
Sophie smiles and nods before politely bowing out of the office.
She spends the rest of the day going about her duties as usual, although smiling a little more often at Reggie and Diego, who she knows are supportive but sad. She sends MJ, Claudia, and X a text message letting them know the resignation went well. She uses her lunch break to continue searching for jobs and sending out resumes.
What she does not do is let herself think too much about the gravity of the decision she’s made and the consequences it could have. The truth is, she’s a little afraid Arden is right: maybe she is crazy. Because she has no idea what’s coming next. All she knows in this moment is the beauty of soaring freely. The question is, will she fly or will she fall?
~ ~ ~
Meanwhile MJ has returned to her lab with a newfound sense of determination. With headphones covering her ears and her favorite bands infusing her with musical confidence and optimism, she spends all day correcting previous mistakes and moving forward with new experiments. Though she is not alone, she feels insulated, as if she has entered a special zone. A bubble. A happy place, if you will.
Everyone notices. The older grad students raise their brows, taking note of the newbie who is suddenly performing up to — and even beyond — their standards. Dr. Storm constantly praises her in the deep, warm tones he reserves for his favored students. And Felix, poor Felix, just watches.
Before, he was her partner, the one she went to when she needed assistance. He helped her sweep up broken glass from the beakers she dropped, double-checked her formulas, kept her company when she had to redo procedures. He was her right-hand man, and now… now she has two hands of her own again.
“Hey, what’s up with your new mojo?” he asks casually as she wraps up another step in her experiment.
She finishes scribbling her notes before pulling down her headphones and looking up at him. “Sorry, what’d you say?”
“I asked how you’re so… together, all of a sudden.”
She pretends to scowl at him. “Are you implying that I was a mess before?” Unable to keep up her fake anger, she laughs. “It’s nothing special, really. I just spent some time walking the city streets this weekend, taking photographs of random things and thinking. It’s sort of the way I recollect myself. And I realized that I am fully capable of doing what needs to be done, but I let too many distractions get in my way.”
“Distractions?”
She nods. Removing her lab coat and safety goggles, she begins to close down her work station for the day. “Yeah. Ever since I got here, I’ve been stressing out about meeting new people, then hiding from them, then wanting their attention, but only at certain times, and–”
“By people you mean guys,” Felix points out flatly.
She’s surprised by his tone but lets it pass. “Yes, guys. Ben and Sam and–” She lowers her voice. “–even Dr. Storm. I let them take up valuable real estate in my brain, but no more. I’m done with them.”
“With Ben and Sam and Dr. Storm?”
“With guys.”
“Ah.”
She smiles and sighs contentedly. “It hasn’t even been a week and already I’ve caught up! I’m so glad I figured out my problem.” At the word problem, Felix frowns. MJ cocks her head at him. “You’re not happy for me?”
After a moment’s hesitation, Felix shrugs. “No, of course I am. But…”
“But what?”
“But…” He’s thinking it. He wants to say it. It’s practically leaping out of his eyes, not to mention his mouth. But he keeps himself in check. MJ’s happy. He should be happy for her. “But nothing,” he says at last. “I’m just going to miss having my own personal soap opera to watch.”
MJ shakes her head and punches him in the shoulder.
~ ~ ~
When Eli gets home, Claudia is still avoiding her word processor. But she pulls it up quickly when she hears his key in the door. A swift copy & paste puts several paragraphs of words on the screen. She smiles and turns to her boyfriend.
“Hey, sweetie, how was your day?”
“Good,” he says, setting down his briefcase and kicking off his shoes. “How was yours? Productive?”
“Absolutely!” She motions to her computer like a two-bit Vanna White. “Check it out.” She expects him to glance over from the table while he goes through the mail, like he usually does. Instead he comes over. Her eyes widen in panic.
Eli squints at the screen. “What’s lorem ipsum? Since when are you Greek?”
“Um, well, you did call me a goddess that one time in bed…”
“Very funny.” He removes his tie and flings it in the general direction of their bedroom. “Claudia, it’s been almost two weeks now and you haven’t written a thing. If you were at any other job and hadn’t produced in that long, you’d be fired.”
“Then I guess it’s a good thing I’m self-employed, huh?”
“Yeah, it’s just too bad you work for free.”
They both sigh.
“I just haven’t felt passion for any of my new ideas.”
“What about that one I suggested?” Eli asks as he pulls ingredients from the fridge for their dinner.
Space aliens who rig American Idol? Claudia smiles politely. “I wasn’t quite feeling that one either…”
Eli begins to tear up.
“Oh, hey, it’s not that bad of an idea. It’s me. I’m totally apathetic right now, that’s all. Please don’t cry.”
He gives her a funny look. “I’m chopping onions for the beef stew.”
“Oh.” She clears her throat. “Look, give me one more week. I’ll think of something. I pro–”
“Don’t say it.”
“What?”
“‘Promise.’ I don’t want you to say it if you can’t keep it.”
“Hey! Have a little faith. I can keep it.”
“And if you don’t?”
“If I don’t… then I’ll write your idea!”
He gives her a look full of doubt. “You promise?”
She nods. “I promise.”
He shrugs. “Okay then.”
She smiles.
But that night Claudia dreams about a three-eyed Simon Cowell spewing acidic goo at a warbling Klingon. She bolts awake, her heart pounding in her chest. A glance at the clock tells her it’s 3 a.m. Eli breathes calmly and quietly beside her. She scoots over to be closer to him, and as she stares at the ceiling she thinks, I have got to come up with a better idea…
