I'm Scared of Heights | ONC 2023 ✔️

15) Hesitation is Pointless

Out of curiosity, how many people have punched him?

"I see." I inhale a gust of air. You meet each hire on their third walk of doom to demolish any logical idea of how the program operates, correct Kyle? Although, maybe Winn is in "la la land", forgetting to mention the matter. Either way, the fact is obsolete. I soften my features, trying to not scowl. "That's why you're meeting me," I say, barely chasing the grit in my tone away.

Kyle sidesteps a couple, swirling to a table ahead of the local, overpriced bookstore. "Yep," he says with a shrug. "It's like making a milkshake. You add ingredients, tasting what kind of things need to be added. And voila, you've built a grand creation!"

Seating myself at the plastic, grey table, my eyes drift to the cars idling at the stop light and the passersby that glance our way. "You don't have to taste the mixture if you follow a recipe."

Kyle shakes his head and smoothes down his yellow top. "C'mon. It's more fun that way." He clears his throat and rubs his chin. "And that's not the point of my analogy. It's a thing of trial and error. And I've got the recipe now."

"And that is?" I raise a brow and pin my arms over my chest, staring at my soon-to-be boss intently.

"Scramble is basically my rendition of everything I hated about dating apps." Kyle flicks an abandoned receipt off the table, resting his head on his hands. "Real connection and safety were my main goals, and when it came time to hire people, I assembled a team." Kyle opens his mouth again but stops himself. "Do you actually want to hear this? It's a long story."

Perhaps you're the one making it a long story.

Pursing my lips, I nod. It isn't like I have anywhere to be. I'll resolve the LE issue shortly, and Winn is busy. Hopefully not busy puking. He has managed thus far without me. Why would he want me shadowing him? That's what he didn't want, correct? "I have time," I say, swallowing a lump in my throat.

I have time...

According to the half-done makeup job, Winn came into school with, he doesn't.

Kyle's voice is jarring, ripping me out of my head. His words seem to mash into an inaudible chunk. Only when he yells does my brain register his words. "Teens need jobs too! They're capable of doing non-fast food jobs!" He brings his hand over his mouth, clearing his throat. "Anyways, that doesn't mean every teen needs a job. Some have other commitments, and others really are just immature buffoons. And so, through a long toil of trial and error, I made a hiring process..."

Does he go through this spill every time he hires someone? How does he have this much time on his hands? Is he always this long-winded?

The table tilts, shifting my elbows forwards and causing Kyle to flip the plastic onto himself. Quickly, he shoves the light object into place and brushes off his shirt. "Where was I?" He taps his chin. "Ah, we were talking about you. Yeah, at our weekly meeting. Just protocols since Winn hadn't hired anyone in like two years," he assures, "But Winn always has good picks..."

Thus far, I have determined three things. One, Kyle talks in circles. Two, I have all of this information written concisely, without storytelling flair, on the paper Winn gave me. Three, Kyle has a knack for being distracting, which is great.

"Don't look at me like that!" Like what? What did you say? I manage to keep my eyebrows still. "That must have been why he chose you. Because he wanted to-" Kyle pauses. "How old are you again?"

Refraining from clenching my jaw and staring at him straight-faced, I answer in my calmest voice, "Sixteen."

His face scrunches, and his jaw slacks. "Aren't you a freshman?" Kyle questions, clearly doing the math.