Page 4 of Rewrite the Rules

“Okay, enough!” I really don’t want my sexual experience, or lack thereof, to become this little shindig’s hot topic, yet again. We land on it often because it’s bizarre. How can the only virgin in the group be the most candid about what goes on in the bedroom?

Toy With Meis fiction. Just because I haven’t experienced it myself, doesn’t mean I can’t write about great sex. How does that saying go? Those who don’t do—write. Or something like that.

“Thank you for the party. I love you all. End of story. Now, let’s eat cake and drink this weird pink bubbly shit before I have to go pick up the office team’s lunch order down the block.” I slam back my mimosa like it’s a shot of whiskey. “Why does this taste like stale Sour Skittles?”

“I might’ve picked up some cocktail mix from the clearance aisle at the big beverage outlet.” Reese’s smile is brief before her mouth rounds into an ‘o’ to accommodate the bottle tip. She takes a long swig. “I agree—nasty stuff.”

“So, you guys can splurge on all these way over-the-top decorations but you couldn’t save fifteen bucks for a cheap bottle of prosecco? I’m very concerned about our priorities.”

“Hey. Party beggars can’t be choosers,” Reese manages between glugs. The sour tang that tastes somewhat akin to perfume doesn’t deter her. I’d lecture her about her morning chugging but I know she’s going through hell with her dad’s upcoming appeal. Noa’s getting ready to crumble after her summer romance went very unexpectedly south. Quinn is beyond distracted trying to be a mother to her sixteen-year-old brother while building her father’s empire right on top of her back. Mani is living on a planet far away. I don’t have details, but when Mani gets quiet, it means things are bad.

We’re basically an over-aged, pervier rendition ofTheBoxcar Childrenjust trying to survive life. But there’s no sweet grandpa coming to save anyone. Maybe this party was more necessary forusthan for me. A little blub of light in dark times.‘Celebrate the little wins, they fuel you for the big battles ahead,’my grandma used to say.

“First of all, I didn’t beg for this party. You guys forced me to take a half day off of work to come meet you here. And I’m not going to lie—I really thought there would be breakfast tacos...so if that can still happen…I will not object…at all.”

“Why didn’t you take a full day off? We threw you a whole thing.” Quinn rotates her wrist, gesturing to the seeminglySixteen CandlesmeetsSex and the City-themed party surrounding us.

“Did you?” I’m unfazed by her complaint. Quinn’s eyes fall to the floor at her admission of guilt. She shares my workaholic spirit. “Exactly. And actually, Steve wanted me to take the day off mostly because if I don’t use my vacation hours soon, Aura will have to pay them out at the end of the year and that’ll be painfully expensive for them. But you know me. I hate missing a full day. The office falls to crap, Steve gets behind, and then I have to clean up all the mess.”

“Work FOMO.” Quinn shakes her head.Hypocritically!“For a job you hate nonetheless.”

“I don’t hate my job.” I’m bored at my job. But who isn’t? Who isn’t mind-numbingly defeated sometimes waiting for the office clock to strike five? It’s normal. It’s called adulting. Everyone who is in that club knows it sucks and no matter how hard I try, I can’t get my membership revoked.

I’m in. Forever.

Real life isn’t full of fantasy. I live my adventures through books, movies, and music. They provide a temporary escape from mundane monotony. And it’s fine.

I’m fine.

I could live this same day a hundred times over and be perfectly satisfied with my life. There are those who are born to achieve greatness. And there are others who are meant to handle the boring needless details of those people’s lives so they have time for said greatness.That’s me!Batman, if you’re looking—I promise you I could out-sidekick Robin.

I hold up my pink champagne glass. The girls whoop and cheer in anticipation for my speech. “You are all spectacular. Over the past few months, you have cared for me, fed me, completed around-the-clock sanity checks, forced me to shower and cut my nails. Thank you for getting me through the ups and the downs. You’re always there to push me forward when I’m lagging and to pull me back when I’m going too fast. I love you guys so—Nono! Stop it. Don’t cry—”

“Can’t help it,” she sniffs. She elongates her face like a horse as if it will contain her budding tears. “Just so proud of you.”

I roll my eyes. “Cheers tothis.Our lives right now. Exactly as they are. Cheers to good enough being…good enough.” I don’t need the validation, the fame, the money, or to live out the stories I spin in my mind. Everything I need is right in front of me.

And as for everything I want? Too easy. I just put it on the secret pages.

Reese blots her glistening eye with the back of her hand, but then scrunches her face in disgust. “Wait, wait…good enough is…good enough? Bear—what? Worst toast ever. That’s so lazy and depressing. Ladies, am I right?” She scans the room. Everyone, except me, nods in fervent agreement, protesting my words.

I groan. My palm flattens against my forehead with a loud smack.

Never mind. I recant. I may need new friends.

two

Joel

The first thing I learned about Denver is how badly the elevation fucks with me. For the past two days since my arrival, I’ve nearly keeled over from just looking at a flight of stairs. I now need to carry a handkerchief in my suit jacket to mop up the nosebleeds that are random yet somehow also consistent. I don’t know when they’re coming—just that they are.

The air is too clean, the sun is too bright, and my body is rejecting this place like an unwelcome cleanse. The smog and filth-filled streets of Manhattan is the poison my body has come to rely on.

But I’ll get used to it. I have to. This is my new home—I think. I don’t like granola. I’ve never stepped foot in a dispensary, and I don’t share an obsession over microbrews or mountain biking. The Coloradans would’ve denied my state residency application if they had a choice.

Still, Denver is a welcome fresh start.Anywhereis an improvement from Manhattan right now. I made the right decision. It’s time to move on. Denver is a smaller, less demanding startup market to fish in. The venture capitalist competition is sorely lacking and I could navigate this business map in my sleep. Maybe I can finally relax for the first time in nearly a decade. At least for now, Denver is what I need.

Day one on the job, Steve McDonough, my new business partner, welcomes me to the Marquis Business Tower downtown, home to over a hundred companies. Aura Ventures leases a small suite on the thirty-third floor.

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