Then again, if I was being honest with myself, was JerkAlert really as helpful as I’d deluded myself into thinking it was? In the end, it had turned into a slam book, like Dani said. Sure, it had helped Lia discover the truth about Jay, but that was only after she’d caught him in a lie. JerkAlert merely confirmed her suspicions.
And then there was Alex. Every time I thought about what went down between us, a knot formed in my stomach. Because now that I’d had some distance from the whole situation, I realized JerkAlert hadn’t helped me out. It had actually made things worse, feeding my paranoia. I had an almost obsessive need to catch him in a lie, and I didn’t stop searching until I found one. I guess in that way, JerkAlert had helped me out.
But let’s say I’d never found out the truth about Jenny. That I’d gone on believing she was an inconsequential first Fluttr date, and never thought twice about her again. Would it have changed the fundamental foundation of my relationship with Alex? I wasn’t so sure.
Yes, it was a lie. But it was an inconsequential lie. It didn’t impact our interactions, our experiences, our feelings for one another. At least, it wouldn’t have if I’d simply let it go.
The truth was, I’d been far more dishonest with him than he’d been with me. Spying, snooping, keeping secrets. That’s what ultimately led to the demise of our relationship. Not his little white lie.
When my plane touched down at JFK, my head was pounding. I’d achieved a new low: hungover at 10:00 p.m. Grabbing my bag from the overhead, I dragged myself down the Jetway and into the terminal, where there was no one waiting for me with a fancy placard or a Tesla. There was only the AirTrain, and the A train. On the walk home from the subway station, I saw a drunk man pissing on a pile of garbage bags, as if to say, “Welcome back to Brooklyn.” This was my low-tech, low-flying lifestyle.
I fell asleep well after midnight, sleeping fitfully. By the time I woke up, the sun was already shining high. Light streamed in through the cracked blinds, illuminating the mess on my floor. Rumpled clothes, discarded Doritos bags, the crack in my phone that I couldn’t afford to get fixed.
And I realized: Why on earth would I ever turn this Fluttr offer down?
By selling out, I would become part of the problem. But if I said no, it’s not like the problem would magically disappear. Fluttr wasn’t going anywhere. With millions of people and billions of swipes, it was only going to keep growing, getting bigger and more popular, collecting more data and earning more money. Why shouldn’t I get a piece of that pie?
This was what the tech industry was all about. Johnny said it himself: the economy ran on data. To be successful meant to make some morally ambiguous decisions. Look at Hatch, and that farcical Code of Conduct. Vijay talked a lot about decency and respect, but when it came down to it, he didn’t foster a decent or respectful work environment.
So instead of playing the martyr, I was going to pay off my loans. And fix this damn phone screen. Maybe I’d even take a proper vacation. But, perhaps most important, I was going to quit that miserable help desk.
I picked up my phone and shot off an email.
* * *
From: Melanie Strickland
To: The Fluttr Executive Team
Subject: re: CONFIDENTIAL
Hello,
After giving it considerable thought, I’m pleased to inform you that I gladly accept your offer to purchase the JerkAlert database.
Please let me know how you’d like to proceed with the transaction.
Sincerely,
Melanie Strickland
* * *
As I hit Send, I sighed, releasing ten pounds of pressure from my chest. This wasn’t exactly what I thought my big break in the start-up world would look like, but it’s what I had. And it wasn’t bad.
With that decision made, it was time to head to Hatch and tell Bob to go shove it. I showered, dressed, and got back on the subway, grabbing a grande Flat White from Starbucks on the way in, simply because I could afford it now.
During the commute into the city, I entertained myself with daydreams, imagining the look on Bob’s face when I told him the news. He’d be totally blindsided. The best part was, without an immediate replacement, Bob was going to have to take on the bulk of the help desk work. No more hiding out in the server room for him. Hopefully, he wouldn’t give the Hatchlings a hard time.
I strolled into One Seaport Plaza with a smile on my face, my half-empty coffee cup still in my hand. Rather than going to my cubicle, I went directly to Bob’s office.
“Knock knock,” I said.
He smirked. “So nice of you to finally show up.”
“We need to talk,” I said.
“You’re right, we do. But not here.” He stood up from behind his desk and pointed into the hallway. “Follow me.”
I imagined he had plans to chew me out for skipping work yesterday. Perhaps he wanted to take me into a conference room to do it. A place where we could both sit down, unlike his cluttered hovel of an office.
He led me down the corridor, through the open cube farm housing the Hatchlings. As we passed the Fizz area, I kept my eyes on the floor, hoping to pass by unnoticed. But I didn’t have to look up to know Alex was staring at me. I could feel the heat from his gaze traveling all over my body.
Then it hit me: this could very well be the last time I ever saw him. Suddenly, I felt the urge to run to him, to talk about what happened, to suggest we wipe the slate clean and start over. I looked up, eager to catch his eye. It was too late, though. He was already looking away.
So I kept following Bob, who was walking toward an area of the floor I’d never been to. Where was he taking me? Was there some hidden conference room reserved for reprimands?
Then he stopped in front of a big blue door. The placard beside it read V. Agrawal. Bob had taken me to Vijay’s office. As if the founder of Hatch cared about my illicit day off. He didn’t even know who I was.
This was laughable. But if that’s what Bob wanted, I’d just have to quit in front of them both.
The door opened, and there was Vijay. He nodded at Bob, then looked at me, a glint of recognition in his eye. “Melanie, Bob. Come in.”
Since when did Vijay know my name?
As we entered his office and took our seats, I noticed the stark contrast between his drab brown surroundings and the colorful whimsy of the Fluttr executive suites. I’d always thought Vijay was such a big deal, but after seeing the Silicon Valley heavyweights in action, it became clear he was pretty small potatoes.
He had a great view, though.
“So,” he said, clasping his hands on his desk blotter, “you’re probably wondering why you’re here.”