Page 13 of I Love to Hate You
As Eddie’s group finishes their presentation about a can of Pepsi, I ignore the scent of Kendrick’s cologne and spare a glance over at him. His light brown eyes are fixated on the group of three as they head back to their seats with smiles on their faces. Dan compliments on how they described a can of Pepsi so vividly in their pitch, and Kendrick sucks his teeth, clearly frustrated.
“What the fuck?” he whispers, cutting his eyes over to me.
I frown when I see the look on his face. “What’s your problem now?”
“I thought we had to make up the product?”
“What?” I reply, feeling my face shift to a grimace. “I thought we did, too.”
“Those assholes just pitched Pepsi and Dan didn’t tell them they did it wrong,” Kendrick says. “We’re going to look even more like dumb asses now.”
I don’t bother to reply as the next group gets up and pitches Doritos, followed by the next two pitching Kool-Aid and a weed killer that doesn’t kill grass, which obviously already exists. To my surprise, Dan doesn’t give negative feedback to any of them. I try to replay his instructions in my head, but before I can think of his words, he’s speaking to us.
“Okay, and now for our two-person group,” he says, beaming like being here is his dream come true. “What do you have for us?”
Kendrick and I look at each other as we stand up, and I can feel heat wafting off of him. Even a big bad ass like him doesn’t want to be embarrassed in front of people. My mind races into a million different directions trying to put together a pitch for something other than what I had before. If no one else made up a new product, we shouldn’t either, but my feet carry me to the front of the class too fast. Before I know it, the moment has come, and I have no way out. Kendrick stands next to me with his thick arms crossed over his chest, a glower on his face as he waits for me to begin. He’s going to just stand there and let me bomb for the both of us. Fucking asshole.
“You guys okay?” Dan asks when I don’t speak, and I look back to find him watching us with raised brows and impatience seeping from his pores.
I clear my throat to stall, but my brain doesn’t use the extra seconds to come up with anything new. “Umm, yeah. We … uhh. So, we sorta thought that—”
“It’s called Family Tree,” Kendrick’s voice blares, ripping through my words and commanding the room. I nearly break my neck turning to look at him as he steps forward, uncrosses his arms, and begins addressing not just Dan but the entire class of students. “We already have social media sites like Facebook and Instagram that allow you to become friends or follow anybody you want. So, our product is designed strictly for family members to link up. When you create your account, it’s like starting a family tree, and only those who you’re related to can link with you. It’s about connection to past and present generations of your kinfolk. Moms, dads, aunts, uncles, cousins, great grandparents, everybody tied to your lineage. If you’re just one of the homies from high school, you can head over to Facebook to find friends. This one is strictly for connecting ancestry.”
“You mean like Ancestry.com?” a male voice from the crowd inquires from the back of the class, but I’m not sure who it is.
“Does Ancestry.com allow you to have posts that are only broadcast to your family members? Does it let you share and communicate with each other? Or does it only show you who your descendants are?” Only silence answers. “Right, that’s what I thought. So stop shouting questions from the back of the room during our presentation, you little bitch … whoever you are. We didn’t do that to any of you when y’all were down here stealing your pitches from Pepsi and Doritos commercials.”
Every eye in the room widens, including Dan’s, who stands with his hands up like he’s showing Kendrick he’s unarmed. “Whoa, let’s not get hostile,” he says.
Kendrick shrugs. “Sorry, it’s been a long morning, and I just don’t want anybody shitting on Maya’s idea for Family Tree. This washerconcept, so I’m a little defensive of it. After all, she designed her own product, unlike everybody else.”
Dan’s apprehensive gaze softens to a smile. “Well, you’re absolutely right about that. That was a bit of a test, and you two are the only group who passed. The assignment was to designyour ownproduct and pitch it. Listening and paying attention to the client is a very important piece of being in this business, because you can’t get up in front of companies and present a pitch without knowing exactly what you’re talking about and who they are. If they ask forthis, you can’t give themthatjust because you’re not in the mood or not feeling up to it. So, while the rest of you did fine with your pitches, Maya and Kendrick are the only ones who came up with a great, original idea. Plus, they showed fantastic teamwork with Maya creating the product and Kendrick leading the way with the pitch. Outstanding job, you two.”
Dan begins clapping, and the rest of the class joins in, applauding us for a job well done. The entire thing makes me feel anxious and confused at the same time, because I have no idea where Kendrick got all of that from. I’m honestly not sure if I could have come up with a better pitch for the idea myself, so to watch him get up and present it without stammering or skipping a beat was like being front row at a play.
The applause dies down, and Kendrick walks back to the seats, but he doesn’t sit where we were before the presentation. He walks up a few rows and plants himself back in his original spot behind everyone, sliding down in the desk as if he’s trying to hide beneath it. He doesn’t make eye contact with anyone else, and I sit down in my original spot alone.
“All right, everyone,” Dan says, addressing the entire room. “Thank you all so much for attending today. I really appreciate it, and I’m glad I got to meet you all and see you in action. Hopefully someday in the near future, I’ll see you again as an intern for Unwound Marketing, and we can become colleagues. If any of you have questions, please feel free to come see me up front. Thank you all very much and have a great rest of your day.”
Dan waves goodbye, and the group of seniors gets up from their desks at the same time and begin heading for the door. I turn and watch Kendrick get up, and he moves quickly, bolting down the stairs like his row is on fire. I want to say something to him. I want to thank him for getting up there and presenting my idea as if he was in love with it from the very beginning, and for standing up for me to whoever asked an asinine question in the middle of the pitch. I want to tell him that I appreciate what he did, and that he floored me with how quickly he thought all of that up. I’m not easy to impress, and Kendrick Kennedy managed to pull it off today. I’m full of unspoken words as he gets closer, but I can’t bring myself to let them out. Instead, I watch him silently breeze by me without looking up. As he approaches the door, everyone moves to the side to let him out first, and just like that, he’s gone.
Eleven
~ MAYA~
“Why’d he leave so fast?”
“What?” Eddie says, responding to a question I was sure I’d said under my breath.
“Oh, umm, Kendrick. I was just wondering why he left so fast,” I reply as I grab my things and start toward the exit with Eddie by my side. The rest of the class has already left, so Eddie and I are the last to step into the crowded hallway.
We enter the horde and are immediately swallowed by a mass of assholes. Some of them are moving through the corridor quickly, trying to get to another career fair event, while others are just standing there having mundane conversations. Either way, they’re all in the way and annoying. With this day dedicated to the fair, no one is in their usual rush to get to the next class, so there’s more congestion in the halls. Eddie and I push our way to the other side and post up against the wall, both of us leaning against it with our shoulders.
“I was so surprised to see how well you and Kendrick did,” Eddie says.
He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a stick of gum, shoving it into his mouth and chewing much louder than he has to.
“Oh? Why is that? You think I’m dumb or something?” I inquire.
