5. Candice

CHAPTER 5

CANDICE

W ith a sigh, I lean back in my chair, its joints creaking and bending more than I'd like them to. Grimacing, I press the heel of my hand into my forehead, squeezing my eyes shut tight. I think I'm getting a headache. Again.

It's all the staring into computer screens and living in windowless rooms with buzzing fluorescent lights. My head and my eyes are paying the price.

Worth it to be doing this, though.

I'm working with Blair and Aiden, troubleshooting some of the code that's going to go into the new Fletcher operating system. The others are taking it seriously, but they don't seem to be excited . Every time I look at a new line, I get a thrill, a little electric buzz — because this is it. This is as high-end as code gets, and I'm allowed to stick my hands in and play with it. I expected this internship to be all carrying and fetching, but they're trusting us with so much. How can it not be sacred to them?

I'm also writing a meticulous technical document that I volunteered to do when none of the others wanted to. Really, we're supposed to be doing it all together, but delegating is a part of group work, and I'm a good writer.

"How's it going, Candy?" asks Blair, leaning around my screen to look at me.

"Don't call me that," I glare. There's nothing I hate more than sickly sweet nicknames, and my name is the worst for them. "It's good."

"You sure?" he asks.

I nod, giving him my very best why don't you leave me alone? look. "Yeah. How's it on your end?"

Either he doesn't get the cue or he's being deliberately obtuse. "Oh, good, yeah. It's easy, not as technical as your section."

We have a huge chunk of code that we're supposed to go through, and we split it up into thirds between us. And because I'm wrangling our notes into real words, I got the shortest section. Maybe Blair wants to do less work. It wouldn't surprise me; he strikes me as the lazy type. I can imagine him as a boss very easily, the kind of manager who barks and snarls because he has no real power and wants to feel good about himself.

"Cool," I reply, not really sure what he wants me to say. Deliberately, I sit back up and turn my attention to my screen, the little white symbols dancing like spots on the black background.

To my frustration, he doesn't move. "Yeah, I'm actually nearly done."

"Okay…?"

"Well, I was thinking maybe you'd want to swap. You know. In case it was too hard."

I sit bolt upright, shooting him the dirtiest look I can summon and raising my voice to levels I normally don't allow, even when I'm angry. "What the hell is that supposed to mean? I'm more than capable of anything you are."

He moves away, raising his hands in surrender and his eyebrows like I'm being the unreasonable one. "Whoa, cool it, sunshine. I was only offering. I'm trying to look out for you. After all, it can't be fun being in last place."

My mouth drops open, a furious rush pounding through my head, filling my face with heat. I'm too startled to think of a witty response. I bet he was a bully at school. I bet he was the type who'd steal your lunch money and laugh when you cried trying to get it back.

Then, to both my relief and annoyance, Aiden steps in. "Hey, Blair, back off. Leave her alone."

Blair stands up to face Aiden, getting in his space like he thinks he's intimidating. But he's barely taller than Aiden and skinny as a beanpole, so all it looks like is an angry kid trying to assert some dominance. "Why don't you back off, lover boy? We all know you're crushing; you're as obvious as a traffic cone."

Aiden's face doesn't change, a mask of stoic calm. I wonder if anything could fluster him. "Just because you feel threatened, doesn't mean you should pick on people smarter than you."

"What, her?" Blair scoffs, looking back at me like I'm dirt he's scrubbed off his boot. "No one from Michigan ever got hired to Fletcher Tech."

"And they don't hire boneheads either." A flash of fury turns Aiden's eyes ice-blue. Even if his tone isn't giving him away, his clenched fists do.

"What's it to you, man? Are you in this to win it or not?" Blair folds his arms and for a second, it really looks like Aiden is about to throttle him.

"The best person is going to win this, and right now that's not looking like you, is it? At least Candice can do her own work by herself."

It shouldn't be possible, but the temperature in the room drops another ten degrees. I want to be mad with Aiden for jumping to my rescue as if I'm some helpless wench. I didn't even need rescuing at all, really. Blair's an annoying toad, and I can cope with that. He's the kind of guy that needs to bully other people to make up for his own lack of self-esteem. His comments cut, but after the rush, it won't bother me.

But Aiden's sweet and I can't be mad at him. No one else is going to stand up for me here. Even if I don't need it, it's good to know I have it. It's something I might need someday down the line, and it's not something I want to throw away.

I jump to my feet before things can escalate any further. "All right, boys, stop. I'm cool doing my own work, thanks. Why don't we each do what we're here to do? Or else we'll all look like slackers."

The expressions they both give me could not be more opposite. Aiden's got that wide-eyed concern, while Blair looks like a muzzled wolf. I know which one would leave me in the dirt if given half the chance.

But they both back off, fortunately, and return to their screens. Aiden leans over as if to try and soothe me, but I don't need that so I ignore him, focusing on my work. We have a lot to do, and it's got to be done by the end of the day. I don't care how much they hate me. I won't let my group fail because we're too busy trying to prove something to each other. Someone has to take the lead here, and their dick-measuring contest isn't getting us anywhere.

We don't say anything else, and I barely even realize time has gone by until one of the senior technicians wanders around to check on us. "How we doin' over here?" she asks in a thick Boston accent, a complete anomaly among all these other voices. She's been supervising us from afar all week, and she really knows her stuff.

I jump a little at being interrupted. "Oh, good, I think. I'm about getting to the end of the documentation, and I'm pretty sure Aiden and Blair are finishing up."

"Great. Can I?" She gestures to the screen and I wheel away to let her read over what I've done. My heart starts to beat nervously as she scrolls through it, her eyes darting over the lines as she skims my work.

I'm not totally sure if the occasional hums and nods are a positive, but when she straightens back up, she smiles approvingly. "Great job, kid. You've tidied that up perfectly."

I flush at the praise, unable to stop myself smiling. "Thank you."

She winks at me, then heads over to the boys. I don't really listen to the conversation, but I do hear her leveling them both suggestions to do better. It's amazing what praise can do, and getting the best review in the room can — well, I'm swimming in it, dizzy with elation. My heart is so light it could burst.

Lately, it's been beating like that over two things: code, and Aiden.

As I look over and watch him put a pencil in his mouth as he gets lost in thought, I think maybe it's time to stop lying to myself.