Page 37 of Played By Design

The house creaks from the settling foundation and the heater kicking on, warm air blowing from the vent right next to my chair. I turn my head toward the hallway, straining to hear the rumble of the garage door opening, but only the soft tick of the clock on the wall answers.

I check the time. Again. Eleven oh-three.

Kain should be done by now.

He should be texting back.

My jaw aches from clenching, the muscles along my temples tight. I force my mouth open, stretch my jaw from side to side, and it pops.

The screen sits dark on the desk.

Did something go wrong with the interview? Or maybe something went right? Did Julian offer him the job on the spot, and they’re celebrating? Maybe they went for coffee. Maybe Kain’s phone died.

I shoot off another message.

Bunny

Is your phone dead?

Send.

Nothing.

I set the phone down and stare at the farming sim. My farmer hasn’t moved. The chickens have wandered into the crops. I should shoo them out.

I don’t shoo them out.

If this were a video game, I’d be able to fast-track through this waiting montage. Living through it IRL means every minute stretches on forever.

The rumble of the garage door sounds, and I launch myself out of the chair.

I skid to a stop in the doorway of the living room, one sock sliding on the floor.

Kain steps inside, bringing with him the faint cold of outside air. I search him for some clue about the interview, but he gives nothing away. He sets his keys on the entry table with a click, taking his sweet time.

My sock-covered foot starts tapping.

He rolls his shoulders and heads for the kitchen to pull a bottle of water from the fridge.

I follow, bouncing on the balls of my feet.

He cracks the top off and takes a slow sip.

“Well?” I demand.

He lowers the bottle with a smirk. “I got an offer.”

The noise that comes out of me isn’t a word. It’s somewhere between a squeak and a yelp, high and involuntary as my feet leave the ground, and I race across the kitchen to grab onto Kain’s arm with both hands.

“You got it? You got it? For real?” The questions pour out in one breath, my fingers digging into the sleeve of his jacket. “He hired you? Julian hired you?”

He sets the water bottle down before it spills. “Whoa⁠—”

“What questions did Julian ask? Was there a test? Did you have to code something? What was the office like? Is it really as purple as it is on the website? Was there a whole panel or just him? How long did it take? Why didn’t you text me back? Kain. Kain. Answer me!”

Kain’s hand comes up to steady my shoulder, his thumb firm over the joint. “Start with the most important question, Bunny. I can’t answer all of them at once.”

I hang off him. “Start with Julian. What was he like? What was he wearing?”