Page 31 of Ruck Me

Chapter9

AOIFE

The career fairhad been a lot more difficult than I’d anticipated. The professor who’d told me I should just be myself would be hearing an earful the next time I saw him because “myself” was simply not good enough.

I wasn’t a bad student per se, but I wasn’t at the top of my class either and after the last two hours it was clear that’s all anyone wanted. Apparently fetching coffee, picking up dry cleaning, and photocopying press clippings required above-average marks. Whoknew?

By the time I’d left Google’s booth, I’d nearly been in tears. The guy there—one Tyler from San Francisco—had been a condescending asshole and things had gotten a bit testy. Unfortunately, as Tyler had explained, he didn’t make the rules—only enforced them. After Google, I’d also ruled out Twitter and Facebook—or rather, they’d ruled me out—leaving me feeling like an utter gobshite. The good news was Microsoft might be interested in speaking with me closer to graduation about an unpaid internship, but they were all the way out in Sandyford and that just sucked because if I worked there, I’d have no legitimate reason to move to Dublin proper. No point in moving from Ballycurra to the city where the rents were astronomical when I’d just have to take the train back out every day, was there?

Choking back a wave of despair, I took a huge gulp of wine, nearly emptying the glass.

“Is this seat taken?”

Was it possible for a person’s whole body to break out in goose pimples at the sound of someone’s voice? I looked down at my pebbled skin. Apparently, itwas.

I tipped my glass in invitation. “By all means.”

Eoin settled his large frame across from me at the small, round café table. “Sorry I’m late. Getting a taxi was bonkers.”

I checked my phone. “You’re not late. I, however, was early.” I held up my empty glass. “Very, very early.”

“I’m going to guess that isn’t a celebratory drink by the look on yourface.”

“Not hardly,” I confirmed. “It’ll be a miracle if I find an internship, which means no job after graduation. I hate the idea of moving away to get work but …” I shrugged with inevitability. Every year boat loads of graduates left Ireland for London where jobs were more plentiful. “Although with all this Brexit shite that might not be an option anymore either.”

“You wouldn’t really move away, would you?” he asked, his head canted to theside.

“I don’t want to, but if no one here is going to hire me, I can’t keep living at home, mooching off mymam.”

“I’m sure you’ll find something,” Eoin replied, his eyes dancing away guiltily.

“What’s that lookfor?”

“I just feel bad is all,” he answered, shifting his eyes back tomine.

“Come off it, Eoin. You don’t need to feel guilty on my behalf. Besides, between rugby and your own courses, you work way harder than Ido.”

“Don’t dothat.”

“Dowhat?”

“Diminish your accomplishments. You’ve worked hard and get good marks.”

“Not good enough, it seems.”

“Who told youthat?”

“Who didn’t tell me that?” I asked rhetorically.

“I’m serious. What companies said you’re not good enough or smart enough or whatever?”

“Well, it started with Google—”

“Shitty search engine,” he interrupted, making me chuckle.

“And then there was Facebook—”

“Twitter is better anyway.”

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