Choosing Us

chapter 3 | how to fail a quiz

Vivian

The following Tuesday I am trapped in the office at 7 p.m. Not literally trapped as in locked in with the key thrown out, but trapped as in my workload was holding me hostage.

"Dinner has been delivered."

I look up from my computer monitor where I have forms displayed on one half and shitty chemistry notes on the other. Despite my efforts to multitask by completing work and studying for tomorrow's quiz, all my attention strays to completing the final two personal files that need to be done tonight.

I am not the only person in the office with work left to complete. Hence the notice that dinner is delivered by my coworker Mason.

Mason graduated last year, meaning he has been promoted to working full time. He is conventionally attractive, but like with most men I meet, my interest fizzled out quickly. ('Most' is emphasized because Daniel is currently challenging this notion, which scares the shit out of me).

"Thanks, I'll get mine in a second," I say, returning to my screen to click through the remainder of the form. I act as a final checkpoint for full-time employees in the office. Any small mistakes I view, I write a note and provide the fix to be reviewed a second time. Without me, clients may receive misrepresented data and run into future troubles with shareholders or the government.

Mason steps into my desk space and casually places a hand on the back of my swivel chair. I sense him lean forward. With a waving hand, he gestures to the chem notes I have displayed. "What's all this? Are you considering a different career path?"

"I have a chemistry quiz tomorrow I'm trying to study for," I share. My fingertips sweat just talking about it and my inevitable failure. "It's not going so well."

"Damn." Mason switches his position to lean against the desk so he can look at me. I'm pretty sure he has some kind of crush on me, but he's never made me feel uncomfortable. He just hangs around for a little longer than necessary to try to spark a conversation. "I'm sure you'll do fine. You're pretty smart."

I already tried to reassure myself with those exact words various times tonight, so they do little to help. The truth is that no matter how many times I repeat it, and review and copy my notes, nothing sticks. My failure is a combination of mild senioritis and hatred of science courses.

"Thanks, Mason," I say to be polite, even though I would rather say, No, I won't do fine, your words are meaningless clumps of letters, and I will end up ruining the graduation title I have spent years earning. Fuck off!

Instead, I stand from my chair and move into the break room to grab the burrito bowl the office ordered on my behalf. At least I don't have to worry about spending money on food tonight, because God knows I'm broke.

Mason follows me into the break room to grab his food. He feels like my shadow. "Did you send in your letter of interest yet? That is if you plan on staying with the firm."

That's his subtle way of asking me if I will continue being his office crush.

"I've started a draft," I say. Opening the container of food, I stir it around with a plastic fork before I move back to my desk to continue working while I eat. Mason follows. "I'll send it in soon."

"I'm sure you'll be hired," he reassures me. "I'll let you get back to your work. Bye, Vivian."

"Bye." Mason leaves and I exhale a sigh of relief now that no one is in my personal bubble.

As I sit back in my seat, I close the browser that displays my class notes. I've accepted my failure for this quiz. The knowledge of protons, neutrons, and whatever the fuck else I'm supposed to understand for the quiz will hopefully magically flow from my brain for tomorrow's quiz.