Page 14 of The Boardroom: Kirk
Chapter 10-Kirk
I’ve always loved Christmas. I love sitting around the tree watching my little cousins open their presents and listening to my uncle’s bad jokes. There’s a certain warmness to it that you don’t get anywhere else. But this year it’s just not there. I mean, I feel it, I’m perfectly happy, but today doesn’t feel like the peak of my happiness the way it usually does. Something’s different. Something’s off.
As I refill my cup of punch, I look into our living room and see everyone coupled off, smiling and laughing together…totally in sync. My aunts and uncles and cousins had all managed it, had all completed that magical, confusing, and distressing journey we call finding the person who feels like home. Maybe that’s it.
I had found her.
She just wasn’t here.
I know I’m a loud and proud Buffalo native, but the truth is only my immediate family has spent any time there. The whole Atkins family has been living in Seattle since my grandparents were kids, and only a couple of years ago my parents moved back here too. Having a huge family to help you adjust to the big city was certainly nice when I was younger, but now that I’m older, some of their activities could be pretty draining. We’re really into the family thing, with color-coordinated outfits and professional portraits and everything. But what am I gonna do, right?
As I drive up to Marissa’s house I get a queasy and excited feeling in my stomach. I haven’t quite processed the fact that I had actually asked her to do this monumentally insane favor for me, and that she actually agreed to it. I mean, any other girl on the planet would have looked at me like I was insane. Not Marissa though. She loved adventure and risk no matter what the cost.
I pull up my Jaguar in front of Marissa’s apartment complex and text her to let her know that I’m here. A few minutes later she emerges bundled up in a red coat and knee-high black boots, barely able to hide the grin on her face.
“Hey boyfriend,” she says with a laugh as she slides into the passenger seat. I’m so taken aback by her words that I nearly forget about our plan.
“Hey,” I say, feeling warm in the face. “Thanks for this again, you look great.”
“Of course,” Marissa smiles, her sing-song voice already bouncing off the walls of the car. I’m unsure of how I’m even going to operate the vehicle with her sitting there. She should come with a warning, I mean, really.
“So,” Marissa says, grinning at me. “Do we have to make up a backstory?” The look on her face tells me she’s already made one up, and to be honest, it’s a little bit terrifying.
“Shoot,” I say, morbidly curious.
“It’s last summer, right?” Marissa starts. “And we’re at one of those cute little vintage record stores…”
“Okay,” I interrupt, “This sounds way too cute to be believable.”
Cuter than we met in high school biology class?
“Fine.” Marissa says. “A dive bar?”
“Not cute enough.”
“You spilled coffee on me?”
“Still too cute.”
“Alright then…” Marissa says, biting her lip adorably. “Our friends set us up. We had our first date at a Greek restaurant this summer. We split a baklava and the rest is history.”
“Perfect,” I grin.
“Not quite,” Marissa says. “What is the history, exactly?”
There’s an awkward silence as we parse the accidental double meaning of her words. We had a history that could never be summed up in such a cute and convenient anecdote.
“Hm,” I ponder for a minute, figuring that it was my turn to add some ideas. “We like to go to concerts together, and Thai restaurants, and you always beat me at Mario Kart.”
Marissa raises an eyebrow, evidently impressed. “Sounds good to me.”
The tension in the car is there, no matter how much either of us would try to deny it. We’re both curious as to how our little charade will play out—it could go forward without a single fault or it could end in complete disaster.
To be honest, I didn’t care. Marissa was here, and I was happy.
“So, go over the family game plan,” Marissa requests as we brake at a stoplight behind a minivan carrying a fat Christmas tree.
“Gameplan?”
