Page 95 of Caught A Vibe

“But I’ve failed at every job I’ve ever had.”

“Have you? Or has the job failed you?”

That one sinks into my brain like a jackhammer, breaking up the old toxic concrete. I have beaten myself up over my shortcomings for so many years that looking at the situation from the flip side now throws me for a loop.

“You know what I remember about you from high school?”

“No, what?” I ask, still trying to process the seismic shift in perspective happening in my head.

“When you were excited about a project, nothing could stop you. You would work on it day and night until it was finished, and they turned out fantastic. But when you were bored? God help us, nothing was getting done.”

“I know! I’m still like that. If I could just work harder—”

“No, Dash. Stop. The world needs the kind of creativity your brain is capable of. You have to access that in a very specific way. Keep chasing the projects that allow for that, and you’ll be fine.”

Is that really something I can do? I sit silent on the couch, letting it all sink in. A question tickles my curiosity. “How did you say you ran into my mom?”

“She tracked me down through the school’s website and emailed me, asking if I would come talk with you. She’s worried.”

“Worried I’ll end up living on her couch forever.”

“Worried that her son is struggling, and she couldn’t find the right words to help. Direct quote from her email.”

“Thanks, Mr. Anderson.”

“You can call me Scott.”

I try it in my head, but the name feels too strange. “Nope. For better or worse you will always be Mr. Anderson in my head. At best, Mr. A. You know, I made you an NPC inCall of Anarchy.”

“I loved that. Everyone thinks that character is a nod toThe Matrix, but you made him a helper instead of an antagonist.”

I nod, proud that he’d caught it. “Thanks for everything, Mr. A. I wouldn’t have gotten this far without your support in high school. I think you’re the first person who really saw what I was capable of, not just what I couldn’t do.”

“Maybe the first, but certainly not the last. Hang in there, kid. Don’t give up. Just find the next passion project to chase.”

“I might have something there.”

“Can I see it?”

I open my laptop and walk my mentor through the idea. We brainstorm ideas, play a littlewhat if?, and Mr. A leaves as excited about the idea as I am. It’s solid and could potentially help a lot of people.

With my teacher gone, I glance back at my laptop, thinking about the game waiting for me inside, and that old familiar excitement sparks in my chest. I am absolutely going to chase the dopamine.

Mr. A is right. I’m not a failure. I just need to play to my strengths. And now, for the first time in months, I’m excited about a project. I’m going to dive in and refill my well.

And maybe I can figure out which of my strengths can win Penny back. Deep down, a little voice insists that programming her into my game won’t fix the empty space in my heart, but I can’t afford to go back to that bleak place of despair. I want to level up and win her heart. But to do that I need to improve my knowledge and skill stats. Good thing I can build a game to help me with that.

One thing has become crystal clear: my happiness is worth the effort it takes to keep chasing my dreams.

I reach to pick up my computer again, and catch a whiff of myself.Gag.

I will absolutely keep chasing my dreams. But first, a shower.

Penny

Ipace my apartment trying to gather my courage. Callie thinks this is a great game and proceeds to see how many times she can dart between my moving legs without getting stepped on. The answer is not many.

YEEEEOOOOOWWWWLLL!

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