Spoiler Alert (Spoiler Alert #1)(47)
According to Heidi, it could have been worse. Much, much worse.
“They have this rendition of ‘Blowin’ in the Wind,’” she’d whispered near the printer that morning. “Mel changed the lyrics to ‘Contaminants, my friend, are blowin’ in the wind.’”
“Wow,” April had managed. “That’s . . . wow.”
Her colleague nodded emphatically. “There’s a verse about air-monitoring stations too. Pablo and Kei contributed that bit.”
“And they considered performing that song for me at lunch? In a sort of welcoming ceremony?”
Honestly, despite Heidi’s bugged-out eyes, it sounded amazing. After a week like this last one, April embraced any and all distractions from her tangled thoughts. A horrible folk concert promised much greater distraction and entertainment value than munching a sandwich at her desk alone, as she had done during her first lunch at her old office.
Creativity in any form, she appreciated. Especially when said creativity would have to cease at the end of the lunch hour, should it prove particularly ear-piercing. However, she also appreciated the kindness of not imposing that creativity upon her without an invitation.
“After some discussion, they decided it would violate the boundaries of good colleague behavior.” Heidi’s cerulean-blue nail polish matched her hair beautifully, and April mentally widened the scope of her wardrobe and makeup options for work. “They didn’t want to force you to listen if you weren’t interested. Even though they’re very proud of their version of ‘This Land Is Your Land.’”
Oh, the endless lyrical possibilities.
In the end, though, lunch didn’t involve singing. Just a few friendly questions.
“I’m a Gates fan too,” Mel said before selecting a piece of the spicy tuna roll with her chopsticks and transferring it to her plate. “I saw your Lavinia costume on Twitter, and it was amazing. How long have you been interested in cosplay?”
Of all the juicy topics Mel could have asked about, she’d chosen . . . cosplay. Not Marcus. Not the dates. Not even the publicity surrounding Marcus and those dates, or the public-yet-intimate photos splashed all over the internet and featured on several low-rated cable entertainment shows.
Despite a morning spent completing first-day paperwork and watching HR-mandated videos, April already loved her new job.
“Only this past year.” Any sushi roll containing both tempura shrimp and avocado was clearly meant to be hers, so she snagged a piece. “That picture turned out well, and I’m proud of my design, but there are problematic bits. If I’d been posed any other way, you’d have seen evidence of staples and double-sided tape.”
She’d intended to share her interest in cosplay and accompanying Twitter identity on the Lavineas server last week, since a few people in their community might be able to offer much-needed costume construction tips. That would have meant acknowledging she was Marcus’s mysterious date, though, and after all the hubbub surrounding her fat-shaming post, she was lying low for a few days instead.
Not that most people hadn’t been kind and gracious about the topic, especially—and heartwrenchingly—BAWN. She was also locating fewer and fewer fucks to give for people who couldn’t give her any in return. But a few naysayers had caused some tense moments on the server, and she had no intention of hogging the bandwidth yet again so soon thereafter.
“Do you need to borrow a sewing machine?” Pablo glanced up from his sashimi. “I have one I can lend you. It’s not fancy, but it does the job.”
April swallowed her sushi and sent him a grateful smile. “Thank you, but I would have no idea how to use it. Better to buy, experiment on, and possibly break my own machine.”
“So you designed that amazing costume, but can’t sew?” Heidi looked thoughtful. “Mel, darling, are you thinking what I’m thinking?”
“Probably not.” With her chopstick, Mel was poking at the roe atop her sushi. “I was compiling a mental list of species whose eggs we consume and wondering where and why the line gets drawn.”
Heidi blinked at her. “You’re right. That wasn’t what I was thinking.”
“I know.” Kei set his chopsticks neatly on his napkin. “This is about My Chemical Folkmance.”
“We’re still working on the band name,” Pablo noted. “I voted for some take on ‘She Blinded Me with Science,’ but Kei and Mel told me it implied harmful things about our profession.”
Her attention diverted from egg concerns, Mel regarded Heidi consideringly. “Oh. Yes. I see now. Yes, that might work, depending on what April would prefer. She just moved and started a new job, and we shouldn’t pressure her to commit to anything else.”
“Especially since she may have, uh, other personal priorities right now.” Kei broke open his fortune cookie and scanned the slip of paper inside. “Dammit, I don’t want to take on new adventures. I work full-time, have a family, and sing in a folk trio with an indeterminate name. Isn’t that enough?”
Heidi patted his arm. “You can grab my fortune instead. It’s about making wiser decisions, and I have no interest in that.”
He laughed. “I’ll bet you don’t.”
April was lost. “I’m sorry, Heidi, but I missed something. What were you thinking about? And what does it have to do with me?”