I squeeze down hard on a stress ball and watch the rubber stretch between my fingers. I do it over and over, clenching my jaw, trying to keep myself from standing up and screaming.

I’ve never been so humiliated in a meeting before. I’m so livid, I could quit right here.

But I don’t want to give Justin the satisfaction. I don’t think he needs me anymore to keep the team together. It’s been long enough that I think people are on board with the new changes, and even if they aren’t, turnover will be minimal at best. He can get rid of me now and take over the Spine account himself if he wants.

Although I doubt Blair will let him. She specifically said she wants us both.

I made a mistake. I never should’ve redesigned their products, and really, that wasn’t my intention. I wasn’t trying to say they should do that, but rather showing Blair how a cohesive vision can affect all of her materials, including their hardware.

I can see how it came off, though. I didn’t notice at the time because I figured it was just such a small part of my presentation, but Justin really gave it to me. I hated standing there, getting scolded by him. I was tempted to tell him to fuck off and storm away.

Instead, I’m going to stay and prove him wrong. He thinks I can’t make this work, but I know I can.

He doesn’t deserve the job he has. Quitting and running away now is just going to allow him to keep it even longer. If the board has no other good options, they’ll just stick with Justin as long as he wants the position. But if I’m around, I can always slip into his role if he ever falters.

Leaving the company now would be throwing away all the hard work I’ve put in. As much as I hate to admit it, I need to stick around and see this one through, if at least to finish this Spine project.

So instead of giving in to self-pity, which is really tempting, I get to work. I throw out everything I had before and start fresh. I spend the afternoon brainstorming the basics, trying to come up with a new vision for the company.

All I keep seeing is Blair looking at me from under her bangs and saying one single word with that flat, affectless tone of hers.

It’s hard to shake that image. It stung me, deep down in my gut. I don’t think I’ve ever been rejected so clearly before in my life.

No. That one word hurt more than any other word I’ve heard in my life.

I’m staring at my computer screen, wondering how the day just slipped past when someone knocks at my open office door. I look up as Justin steps into the room.

I lean back in my chair, crossing my arms. “Come back to scold me some more?” I ask him.

He frowns. “Not at all.”

“Look, I’m working, okay?”

“It’s after six,” he points out. “Everyone’s gone home for the day, pretty much.”

“And yet here you are.”

He grins at me. “I guess I’m as much a workaholic as you are.”

“Or you just have nowhere else to go.”

He winces a little bit and I feel bad for my sudden attack. “That might be true, too.” He walks a little closer, something held outstretched in his right fist. “Here, I wanted to show you this.”

I cock my head, trying to see. I have to stand up and come around the desk, the smile returning to his face.

“I found it on eBay the other day, couldn’t resist myself.”

It’s a small, purple egg. At first, I think it’s an Easter egg, but as I get closer I realize it has a tiny little LCD screen and three little yellow buttons underneath it.

“Is that what I think it is?” I reach out tentatively.

“Sure is.” He holds it up and I slowly take the little Tamagotchi from his palm.

I can’t help but laugh. It’s smooth and looks almost brand new. When I hit a button, the thing turns on and the strange little creature stares out at me, waiting for me to take care of it.

“I can’t believe you found one,” I say with a laugh. “I mean, we used to spend hours with these stupid things.”

“We each had our own,” he says. “Mine kept dying so we just played with yours.”

“That’s right.” I grin at him. “You were awful at it.”

“I didn’t care about it, except when you were around.”

I shake my head, laughing. I stare down at the little purple egg, and I can remember all the time we spent on this stupid little game.

We were little kids back then. I think we were probably six at the time, and everything’s a little hazy, clouded in the way all childhood memories are. That was almost exactly twenty years ago now.

Although the memories are hazy, the feelings aren’t. I remember being really invested in this tiny little Tamagotchi, almost obsessed. We’d play with it down by the creek, sitting on a big rock while our dads sat in the backyard nearby, drinking beers and typing at laptops. In retrospect, I realize they were writing the movie together, but we didn’t know it at the time.

We didn’t care. We were kids in our own little world, best friends for as long as I can remember.

“Keep it,” Justin says. “Consider it an apology gift.”

“Apology?” I quirk an eyebrow.

“I was maybe a little harsh with you.”

“No.” I hand the toy back to him. “You weren’t.”

He doesn’t take it. “Look, Remi. The rest of that presentation was really good. I know Blair turned it down, but if it were any other client I think it would’ve been a home run.”

“Doesn’t matter,” I say, finally pulling the Tamagotchi back reluctantly when I realize he’s not going to grab it from me. “She still turned me down and here we are.”

He sighs and takes a seat across from my desk. I hesitate a second, standing there next to him, before I move around and sit. He gives me an almost sad look, which is actually confusing.

“Clients like Blaire are the worst kind,” he says. “Honestly, sometimes it’s better just to let them go and not go through all the trouble trying to please them.”

“You don’t have that option though.”

“No, I really don’t. If this weren’t so important, I’d consider just dropping her entirely. But I’m stuck with this project, and I think you’re stuck with it, too.”

“Why? I can leave whenever I want.”

“Yeah, you can, I just don’t think you will.” He leans toward me, a devilish smile on his face. “I think you want to prove me wrong and succeed.”

I stare at him for a second, annoyed that he can see through me. “You think I can’t pull this off?”

“Not alone,” he says. “I think you need my help. I don’t think Blaire is ever going to accept any work from just one of us.”

“You’re probably right,” I say softly, looking down at the toy in my hand. “Where’s that leave things?”

“It means we gotta swallow our pride and work together.”

“Not my strong suit,” I admit.

“Same. It’s not easy for me letting you take lead.”

I watch him quietly. I can tell this conversation is as difficult for him as it is for me. He doesn’t like being reliant on someone, especially when it comes to his job. He hates that I have the power to screw him over.

And I hate that he has the job I deserve.

“Thanks for this,” I say finally, putting the Tamagotchi on my desk.

“Yeah. Sure.” He stands up. “Anyway, I’m going to start doing some work on the account. I want to go over it together tomorrow.”

“Maybe.”

He nods. “Good enough. Have a good night, Remi.”

I watch him leave my office and for a second, I’m tempted to follow him. I don’t know why. I just have a feeling he’s going to go back to that bar, sit there with a beer for an hour or two, and do even more work.

He’s a lot like me in that way. I’m never sitting still, either.

Instead, I pick up the little plastic toy again and stare at it. I let the memories it draws out of me wash through my mind, little snippets of watercolor-hued images mixed with more immediate emotions. It’s funny he remembers this thing, all these years later. I was only obsessed with it for maybe one summer at most.

That tells me a lot about how much he remembers about me, and it’s almost frightening. I figured he forgot all about our friendship, considering the way he used to act toward me as we got older and all that shit between our dads happened.

I sigh and pack my bag. Before I leave, I slip the Tamagotchi into the front pouch, not able to leave it alone.

It might need me, and I’m not the kind of person to take on a new pet just to ignore it.