Early class, had to go. Last night was fun, but should probably be a one-time thing. See ya. —R
I debated adding a smiley face to the message I’d scribbled. It felt sort of rude, not leaving one. But I also wanted to make clear that things were going to stay strictly platonic between us. Could you leave a platonic smiley face?
I decided not, just to be safe, so I set the pen down, scanned the apartment a final time, and slipped out the door.
I didn’t have an early class, but Ididhave a meeting with my advisor at eleven that I’d been dreading for days. I couldn’t put it off any longer, though. So after a stop at home and a trip to the gym, I headed back to campus.
My advisor, Dr. Sathers, had her office on the fifth floor of a massive brick building on the western side of campus. Her office door was covered in cartoons from theNew Yorker. The one right next to the knob showed two people talking in an office cubicle. ‘I wish I had a salary that disgusted people,’ one of them said.
I didn’t like how much that resonated with me. I made decent money from Heartbreakers, but I would have loved to have some other option. Even with a small salary. Just something to prove I wasn’t totally incompetent.
I knocked on the door.
“Come in,” said Dr. Sathers. I opened the door to see her look up from her computer and wave me inside. “Hi, Ryder. How’s it going?”
“Pretty good, pretty good,” I said, giving her my most relaxed smile. Like I’d scheduled this meeting just to check in and shoot the shit. Like I wasn’t sweating enough to slide out of my clothes and melt into a puddle on the floor.
We talked about nothing in particular as I set my backpack down and got settled. I tried to project an air of calm. I’d always liked Dr. Sathers, and I hoped the feeling was mutual.
“Are you looking forward to graduation?” she asked.
“Yeah, definitely.” I attempted my relaxed smile again, but I was too anxious for it to work properly. “I mean, kind of, anyway.”
“I haven’t seen much of you this semester,” she said. “Usually my students check in sooner. Does that mean you’ve already got a job offer lined up?”
“Um, about that. That’s actually what I was hoping to talk to you about. The thing is, I keep not getting replies when I send in my applications. And I was wondering if you would be willing to write me a recommendation letter? I really think it might help.”
Usually, jobs just asked for reference names and numbers, not letters. But I was getting desperate, and Dr. Sathers had workedfor a massive lobbying firm before moving into academia. Her name still carried a lot of weight.
“Ah,” she said, giving me an appraising look. “I was worried you might ask me that.”
Fuck. My stomach sank through the floorboards, and I devoutly wished I could follow it.
“Worried?” I asked, wincing.
“I’m going to be perfectly level with you, Ryder. You’re engaging and personable, very charming. I like you. But I have strong reserves about putting my name behind a recommendation for you. You’ve gotten a C and a C-minus in the two classes of mine that you took. Your GPA isn’t strong.” She paused. “And I heard from Wadsworth & Lowe about what happened last summer.”
“It was a mistake,” I said, though I knew it wouldn’t make a difference. No matter how accidental my actions had been, I’d cost the company a huge reputation hit. I’d been let go immediately, and I couldn’t blame them. “It was just a mistake.”
I knew how lame my excuse sounded, but it was all I could offer.
Dr. Sathers gave me a sympathetic smile. “The problem is, word travels fast among companies of that size, and mistake though it was, no one is eager to take on a candidate with a blemish on their record like yours.”
“Wait,” I said slowly. “Is that why no one is getting back to me? Do they all know my name already? Is there some kind of spreadsheet of screw-ups that companies all have access to?”
Oh, God. That made so much horrible, fucked-up sense. No wonder I hadn’t gotten a single interview, and barely even any acknowledgements of my applications. Fuck, I was such an idiot.An idiot for fucking up in the first place, and a whole second level of idiot for not realizing it would have consequences.
I didn’t want to sink through the floor anymore. I wanted to evaporate. To become a fine mist of particles that disappeared into thin air.
“Nothing as formal as a spreadsheet,” she said. “But right now, your name is too fresh in everyone’s memories. When I didn’t see you earlier this semester, I hoped that was a good sign, that you’d found a job anyway. But at this point in the year…”
She trailed off and spread her hands helplessly. “My best advice is to look for a job in another sector. Something away from the business world entirely. You’ve got plenty of other assets.”
“Like what?” I asked. I hated how pathetic my voice sounded, but I couldn’t help it.
“Like I said earlier. You’re charming, friendly. Maybe find a job in sales. Or something else people-facing. Then give it a few years. Let some time pass. People’s memories will grow fuzzy and someone else will fuck up after you. I think you’ll have better luck then.”
“Jesus. You’re telling me to sell used cars?”
