Project Snap Decision

Chapter 5

Hey, it's Joe.

I scrolled through the brief text thread with Joe as I stood outside the meeting place, a shitty dive bar.

Squaring my shoulders, I mentally prepared for the conversation looming ahead of me. Joe had asked me to meet him here, clearly under the guise of convincing me to go through with this ludacris mission.

I had agreed, if only for the free drinks. Although, looking around the desolate bar, I probably should've been more vocal about where we were meeting. My expression soured as I took in the toothless old man grinning at me from one of the booths.

Joe was toward the back, sitting at a high table off to the side of a pool table. His short hair looked mildly mused, and he wore a simple gray t-shirt and jeans. Overall, he appeared dressed down from his usually polished and slick style. But from the looks of this place, he would've stuck out badly.

As I approached, he looked up from his phone and gave me a half smile.

"Hey there, Cam."

"I don't remember giving you permission to use my nickname." I said flatly.

"Oh, it's going to be like that, is it?" Joe chuckled and stood to walk with me to the bar to order.

"Look, I know what this is. You're going to sit here and drink your light beer and try to manipulate me into joining this insane mission for some reason, and I'm going to resist, and then you're going to think that no somehow means yes, and you're going to incessantly annoy me, and I'm going to finish us off by tossing my drink in your face."

"So, just to be clear: we are going to finish tonight?" He gave me a cheeky grin that I wanted to smack off his face.

I ignored him and ordered a gin and tonic from the bartender.

"Can I get the darkest beer you have please?" Joe asked sweetly.

"Okay the type of beer you drink is not going to miraculously change my mind."

"Who says I'm changing anything?" Joe shrugged. "You made an assumption about me, Sweetheart."

"If 'Cam' was unacceptable, you can be sure as shit that 'Sweetheart' is not happening." I snap. Who does this guy think he is?

Joe's smirk only grows and I can't help but squirm a little under his gaze. I need to tread carefully here; for all my dour expressions and cutting comments, he's unfairly attractive. And I'm at a slight risk of acquiescing to whatever he tries to convince me to do.

When our drinks are up, we head back over to the booth Joe was sitting at previously. As he slides in across from me, I try not to breathe in his intoxicating cologne too deeply.

"So!" Joe begins cheerfully.

"So." I can't begin to imagine what he thinks is going to convince me to go on this suicide mission.

"I like you, Cam."

I blink spasmodically. That caught me off guard.

I catch myself. "Sweet." I say, making certain to fill the single word with as much vitriol as I can manage. If this is the tactic, I'm about ready to slam my drink and go.

Joe chuckles, infuriatingly unfazed. "Listen, I know you're not totally on board with this mission. And I know you're not totally on board with me. But I wanted to take this opportunity to let you know how serious I am about Project X—it's my sole focus these days. And to be totally honest with you, it's kind of my only hope."

Okay, okay, fine. I'm a little intrigued. I nod officiously for him to continue.

"Since my injury, I've spiraled a bit. Existential crisis would be a nice way of putting it. I just couldn't picture anything continuing without football. You know, I get that it's corny, but it's so true—ball is life. And without it, my life just didn't seem worth it anymore. Until I was approached by NASA and asked to be a part of this project. Meeting you solidified my resolve to go through with it; you don't mess around, Cam. And witnessing your drive and determination made me want to fight for something. I want to help save NASA, like they're helping to save my life, and it only makes sense if you're the one making it happen with me."

I stared at him, completely speechless. Whatever I was expecting, it wasn't that. I'm not fully convinced, though.

"Look, that's all great, but I'm not used to the spotlight, Joe, and that's what it really comes down to. I get it, you're charming and I'm sure this usually works on other women, but I'm not falling for the 'vulnerable and suave' charade. I appreciate your honesty, if that's what that was, but I can't be on reality television. Being a public figure may be simple for you, but it would ruin my life. I'm not willing to risk my reputation and my physical wellbeing because you feel sad sometimes. I think you should forget about this whole endeavor and go home to your corgis and hundred million dollar payout."

Joe chuckled softly, seemingly unconcerned by my blunt speech.

"Cam. Why did you start working at NASA?"

I blinked, confused by this line of questioning. "Why does it matter?"

"I just get the impression you didn't start working there just to sit behind a desk and worry yourself to death."

"I wanted to go to space." I bit out. "What, did someone tell you that? That I was a delusional intern who worked her way up to head engineer, hoping, pitifully, that it would somehow translate into becoming an astronaut? That's great that people still remember my embarrassing pipe dream, but before you even go there, no. I'm not going to let you use my naiveté to suit your needs."

I looked down at the worn table before taking a deep gulp of my gin and tonic. I could feel Joe's silence like a weight. He thought he'd won.

"Cam, listen. If you won't do it for yourself now, do it for you as that naive kid. Don't commit pedicide. Keep her alive. Keep her memory alive. Think of all the young women who felt silly enough to believe they could be an astronaut too. Prove to them just how possible it really is."

I blinked back tears. Fuck.

Joe gives me a slight smile. He knows that did it. He sowed enough doubt in my resolve to make me truly question if I was going to do this. If I was going to go to space.

"If I've learned anything since my injury, it's that sometimes, ball isn't life. Sometimes, space is life."

So profound.

I want to be angry, but honestly, it's been exhausting to be constantly resisting. Joe makes me want to give in. I don't know what it is about him, whether it's his goofy smile or sincere aquamarine eyes, but I'm starting to melt my frigid ice façade just a little.

I give him an unsure smile, blinking the tears back before they come streaming down. The last thing I want to do at this point is cry.

"Okay, Joe."

"Okay? Is that what I think it means?"

I nod.

"I'm in."