Startup

“You know what, forget it, I shouldn’t have even mentioned it. I’m actually just going to go to bed.” Janelle was looking at her in a way that Katya couldn’t quite parse. It seemed like pity mixed with curiosity.

“Oooookay. You do you. I need to get back to watching Monica put a turkey on her head anyway.”

“Huh?” Katya said. “Who’s Monica?”

“I always forget you don’t know any pop culture,” Janelle said. “Never mind, it’s a Friends thing.”

That conversation had been her sole attempt to process with someone else what had happened with Dan. Since that one conversation, all she had been feeling was confused. She was relieved that things hadn’t gone any further the other night, but every so often her brain stubbornly went to a place that she didn’t want it to go to: thinking about him in the tiniest romantic way. There had been something sweet about the way he had kissed her—he had a look on his face that was so eager. Even when things had been hard in her life—having no luck finding a job after graduation, trying desperately to save enough money to move out of her dad and stepmom’s apartment—she’d had a conviction, deep down, that things would work out. She was tough. She knew how to take care of herself. But now, suddenly, things were starting to feel just a bit out of her control, and she didn’t like it.

And now, a couple days later, she wasn’t totally sure, but it seemed like Victor wasn’t speaking to her. She’d texted him twice and gotten no response, which was completely out of character for him. Or at least, it was out of character for their relationship. He always texted her back right away, and she didn’t like this new dynamic. She didn’t feel the need to tell him about Dan, maybe because she hadn’t totally come to terms with what had happened with Dan. In the two days since, they’d kept their distance at work. They’d managed to avoid each other on smoke breaks, and he hadn’t even come by her desk to say hi.

But he was not leaving her alone on text or on Slack. Busy after work? She felt her chest tightening. Her desk mate, Kevin, who covered transportation apps, looked over at her.

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah, why?” she said. “Does it not look like everything’s okay?”

“Hey, check yourself, just asking. You just seem on edge. I was trying to be nice.”

“Well…thanks. But you can be nice somewhere else today.”

“Damn, that’s harsh even for you,” he said, almost admiringly. “What’re you working on?”

“I’m working on nothing,” she said. “That’s part of the problem.”

“Wait. So there is a problem.”

“You’re way too proud of yourself right now. I need to work.”

“All righty,” he said. “You do your work. I was just gonna suggest that you could look into that invisibletechman Twitter account, if you haven’t already. Trevor told me about it.”

Damn it; invisibletechman had been on her radar, and she’d completely forgotten about it with everything else that was going on. It was galling that it was Kevin bringing it up now. “What made you say that?”

He shrugged. “I keep seeing it retweeted into my timeline and no one really knows who it is.”

“Aren’t you kind of tired of anonymous Twitter accounts?” she said. “Like, don’t they seem kind of played out to you?”

“I dunno,” Kevin said. “If they’re saying stuff that’s like…worthy, then nah.”

“I guess. I just don’t get the anonymity. It’s very…Gossip Girl,” she said. Gossip Girl had started when she was in high school at Brooklyn Tech. She hadn’t known anyone personally who lived on the Upper East Side or who went to private school. She knew that these people existed; she saw them occasionally when her classes went on field trips to the Met or the Guggenheim, these girls with long smooth hair and bags that probably cost more than the rent on both her parents’ apartments put together.

Kevin laughed. “It was literally just a suggestion—oh, shit,” he said.

“What?” she said.

“‘Hearing that shit went down at TakeOff drinks the other night—anyone know anything?’” Kevin read out.

“Where is that from?”

“Invisibletechman. See? I told you it was something.”

“Fuck,” Katya said. “Dan’s gonna kill me.”

“Why?” Kevin asked, but before she could respond, another Slack notification from Dan popped up that just said, You see this? with a link to the @invisibletechman tweet.

“How the fuck did he see that already?” Katya said.

“Probably the same way I saw it?” Kevin said. “Looking at Twitter?”

“I get that,” Katya said. “I dunno. I’m just surprised he saw it so quickly. I’m usually faster than him.”

And now Dan was actually at her desk. “You weren’t responding!” he said. She saw Kevin smirk and turn back to his computer.

“Sorry, I was busy,” she said.

“Did you see what I just sent you? Something went down the other night, apparently.”

“Yeah, actually, Kevin told me right before you Slacked me,” she said. “What do you think it could be?”

“That’s your job.” He grinned; he seemed jittery with excitement.

“If only my best source at that company wasn’t your wife,” she said under her breath.

“Hm?” he said.

“Nothing,” she said. “I’ll look into it.”

“Great.” He lowered his voice. “Did you, uh, see my other message?”

“Yeah,” she said. He looked at her expectantly. “I’ll…respond to it.”

He smiled. “Great. And yeah, if we could have something on that today, that’d be…well, that’d be great. Maybe see if Mack has any comment.”

“Okay,” she said, thinking, Please go away now. He stood there for another moment as though waiting for her to say something else, and then, after a few more awkward seconds, he said, “Great. And let me know if you want to”—he pantomimed smoking—“later.”

“Will do,” she said. He finally walked away. She clicked on Slack and went to Dan’s direct messages. I’m busy tonight, she wrote.

He typed back:

Dan: I feel like you’ve been ignoring me since the other night

Katya: huh? how have I been ignoring you?

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