Page 61 of Debugging Love

I stand, intending to head to Christopher’s office, but my eyes land on Chance. I freeze. “Oh, no.” His elbow is red and swollen. How did I not notice it a minute ago?

Chance eyes me guiltily.

“Your elbow looks like an heirloom tomato,” I say.

“Is that the good kind?”

“Not when it’s supposed to be an elbow.”

He grabs his injured arm. “It’s fine. It’s just bruised.”

“Hold on. Don’t move.”

I sprint to the breakroom, grab a cold pack out of the freezer and carry it back to Chance. He takes it from me, but says, “I don’t want Christopher to know that I fell on my elbow like Gary.”

“Gary who?”

“The guy in our training who broke his elbow while swatting at a fly.”

“But you were catching a venomous spider. It’s different.”

“It is?”

“Yes, it was a workplace hazard. An emergency. There was no time to think.”

Convinced enough by my argument, Chance stands gingerly. He presses the ice pack against his elbow and then follows me to Christopher’s office.

Morgan and Drew file in behind us. The guys remain standing, leaving the chairs for Morgan and me. Chance hovers in the space between Christopher’s desk and the tower of well-organized boxes. Drew takes the other side of the office.

Christopher is leaning back in his chair, fingertips fused to the desktop to balance himself. A pleased smile spreads across his face. I have no clue what this is about.

“You, my friends, have been chosen.”

Morgan groans. Christopher’s smile falls.

“You haven’t heard what I was going to say,” he says.

“I don’t have time for a special project,” Morgan preemptively complains. “I’m already neck deep in the metadata-data dictionary that someone in corporate decided is so important that it has to be done yesterday.”

“A metadata-data dictionary is data about data about data.” Chance says.

“Tell that to the dummies who asked me to do it. And, actually it’s metadata about metadata about data. Next thing you know I’ll be taskered with a meta-metadata-data dictionary.”

“That’s so meta,” Chance quips.

“Who needs data about data about data?” I ask.

“Data scientists, apparently,” Morgan says.

I cast Morgan and Chance a doubtful look. “Isn’t data about data enough data?”

“If anyone else says data, I am done here,” Drew says. He brushes his bangs back and starts marching in place.

“Did you hurt your elbow?” Christopher says, finally noticing Chance’s ice pack.

Chance deflects his comment with a couple head shakes and a relaxed shrug. “Nope. Just a little bruise.”

Christopher looks unconvinced. “Do I need to file an accident report?”

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