Monday is here, a brand new week with my whole life in front of it. I have moved on from Pete, and in time I will finally delete his text messages and phone number. But for now, I’m keeping my focus on smashing every single test Centurion throws my way. Now more than ever, I need this job. A distraction and a refuge. I haven’t updated my Pete’s BoyToy in days, not because I resent him for ghosting me, but because I’m busy. My life doesn’t revolve around one man, I’m a grown-up adult with responsibilities. Staying up till 4 am making fan edits of someone I barely know is just not cutting it anymore.

It’s 9 am when I arrive at Centurion for the physical screening. I, alongside twelve other women, are led to the Centurion training floor. There is a gym, indoor mountain climbing station, wrestling ring, shooting range, the kind of things that’d make the girls–and boy happy. We are assigned a locker and given time to settle in before screening begins. The girls begin to undress, changing into their workout outfits and I bury my head inside the locker, terrified about looking their way, invading their privacy. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. I need to stop listening to Pa and Minnie, they never think anything through. 

I grab my workout outfits, throw the shirt over my face, and hurry to the bathroom. Aside from giving the girls their privacy, I will need mine to hide the fact that the slight curve on my chest is indeed a stuffed sports bra. I’m not worried about looking too flat, I haven’t seen a lot of petite women with heavy chests. My stuffed bra could easily pass as small–really small—breasts, as long as they remain hidden under a rather enormous workout shirt. 

Before leaving the bathroom, I secure my wig with bobby pins and a headband. It’s going to be a long week ahead with rigorous physical tests and I took the time to learn all the tricks for keeping my wig on my head. Imagine the horror if it suddenly fell off while lifting weights, I’d never show my face anywhere outside my house again. I shrug off mortifying the image and leave the bathroom. But I can’t go back into the locker room, not why the girls are still dressing up so I make my way back to the gym to stretch and ready my muscles.

A few minutes after we are settled in, the screening begins and the challenge is set. First are the physical rounds which include running on the treadmill, indoor mountain climbing, weight lifting, and such. It is one test after another while the managers observe and write down on their pads. Their long peering gazes do not intimidate me, it is mostly easy to ignore when you can hardly breathe. But also believe getting in was the hard part. This is the easy part. This I could in my sleep. 

It's four hours before we are given a break and the ladies break into small groups to hydrate and chat. I try to sneak away, an attempt to not intrude on conversations that are not meant for my ears when Sara drags me into a small group mouthing off about other job opportunities they are exploring. 

“What about you, Lucy?” Nina, one of the girls asks.

“Me?”

“Which other company did you apply for aside from Centurion?”

The girls frown when I inform them I haven’t applied anywhere else, and begin to fill my ears with cautionary words about how dangerous it is to have all my eggs in one basket. Soon they are dishing out places I could apply to, and offering to give me recommendations. 

It feels like there is a sea of opportunities ahead with the way they talk. They are all two times my size. Nina is even more so at six foot seven, and yet not once have they ever brought up my height or made me feel inferior. And for a moment, I ponder how easy life would be if I were born a human woman. Though I know it comes with its thorns, I feel as though the shoe might fit more easily.

The short break is quickly over and we are back to the screening, this time I fall behind when we begin the shooting range challenge. From no. 2 overall to no. 7. Most of the women have real field training and have been handling tasers and guns for way longer. The same happens in hand-to-hand combat. By day’s end, all I have is a sore body and the uncertainty about getting this job.

It’s Tuesday, the second day of training, and half the women who were here yesterday do not show up today. They’ve been cut off. We are thrown into more physical exercises and I try to fight my way through. Another day, another body full of sores.

It’s the third day of physical screening and then it’s the fourth and final day. I could really use a break and about twenty years of sleep now all of this is over. I’m packing up bags when I hear my name over the intercom, requesting I come down to HR. I know what this means. This is the moment I find out if I got in or not. I pass a glance to Sara and she smiles at me with a reassuring nod.

***

“My apologies, Miss Tawon. At the moment, you aren’t the right fit for Centurion.” She says the words and I nod slowly.

It doesn’t wreck my heart to hear it, I’ve gotten quite used to rejection, especially when it comes to my career. My thought first lands on Pa and Minnie, they put a lot of effort into making this happen. But I suppose they will be okay, they always are. On the bright side, I’ve never come this far before with a job opportunity and I don’t feel like I am leaving empty-handed. The girls have laid before me several options to explore and when the time is right, I just might. 

Sara is standing by the gym door pacing, she is the first thing I see once I step out of the office. Her brows shoot up and her steps seize once she sees me approaching. “And?” she asks once I am close enough. 

“Better luck next time I guess,” I say through a painful smile that hurts.

Her shoulders slouch, her face squeezes into a frown and then she is pulling me into a tight hug and stroking my hair. And though I have chosen not to fret about this, my heart aches a little.

“There are better jobs,” Sara says, “I will make a list.”

Her voice is a kindness. Her words comforting.

When I’m back home, I do the laundry and dedicate myself to cleaning up the house. I’m just not in the mood to be around people today so I call in sick at work. Yes, I’m choosing not to fret over this, but I don’t think that will make telling Pa and Minnie any easier. So I cook and clean and sleep, in the hopes that when I wake I’ll have the courage to tell them without breaking down myself. 

My waking is sluggish and slow. I stretch, listening to my bones creak here and there. I’m not sure for how long I’ve been out, crickets are bustling around my window and I can hear the low chatter of our neighbors. I rub my eyes, yawning, stretching. 

A few minutes of lazy moments pass before I blink at the window and find that the sky is a faint blue, fading into night. I reach for my phone to check the time and a news alert flashes across my screen: PETE DROPPED MY TALENT AGENCY OVER CLUB SCANDAL. 

“What the fuck,” I mutter, swiping across the screen, then clicking on the notification.

My door swings open and I can smell Timi standing by the doorway. “Naiguso,” he greets, making his way in.

“Fuck heavens, Timi, Pete just got fired,” I say, not looking up from the screen.

“They can’t fire him, he’s their biggest talent.” Timi drops into the space next to me.

“They just did!” My voice is pressed with frustration as I grab my hair. “How the fuck did this happen?” 

My fingers work quickly over the screen, typing away. I join the thousands of angry fans posting about their disappointments in leaving some very detailed angry comments of my own.

“Losen up, you’ll have a stroke.” Timi yawns. “I’m so sleepy.” He drops his head on my shoulder.

“Why are you here so late?”

“I came to borrow your baking pan. Mordecai wants cupcakes tomorrow.”

My fingers stop and I turn to him. “Are you still cooking for her?”

“Of course,” he nods, “what else am I supposed to do?”

“Umm… tell her to go fuck herself?”

He leans away, gazing down at his shoes. “No one bullies me anymore. And also…” He pats his fro, fixing nothing. His hair is always freakishly tidy. “I don’t hate it.”

“Huh?”

There is a pout on his lips as he says, “I like watching her eat.”

“Ugh, fucking heavens.” I spring up from my bed. “You’re disgusting.” He chuckles as I reach for my T-shirt. “Let's not forget how we got here, Timi.  She is still your bully. You just chose the lesser evil. She is not a good person.” I slip on my shirt.

“You don’t even know her.” His puppy doe eyes blink up at me.

“I know girls like her. Egotistical, self-centered, and selfish.”

Timi looks away and remains quiet as I leave more comments, leaning against the cupboard. “I didn’t say she’s perfect, Luke,” he says quietly. “It's just nice to have someone appreciate my cooking.”

“I appreciate your cooking, and so does your mother.”

“That’s different.”

“How so?”

“It just is.” He falls sideways into my bed. “By the way, why didn’t you tell me you were interviewing for a job?”

“Not much to tell, I wasn’t going to get it.”

“Always the pessimist,” Timi snarls. I don’t look away from my screen as I type, but I can see his lovely smile in my peripheral. And of course, I smile too. “Congratulations anyway, I’m proud of you.”

I snort a laugh, “For what? Continuously showing in spaces I know do not want me and embarrassing myself?”

“Yes, you’re brave, and now that bravery has paid off,” he says with the same tiredness in his voice.

Finally, I look up from my screen. “What are you talking about?”

“The job. Is it the same one Uncle Kla recommended you for?”

“I didn’t get the Job, Timi.”

His finely trimmed brows draw together and he pauses a moment before propping up on his elbow. “Then why are they turning the sitting room into some kind of party zone.”

“Huh?” 

“Minnie and Pa. Downstairs,” he says.

I blink at him for a few moments, watching the confusion on his face grow more intense with every second I say nothing, then I turn to the door and exit my room, down the stairs and into the sitting room, I find Pa and Minnie scurrying here and there as they hang up ribbons and set the table.

“Pa!” Minnie cheers when she sees me and Pa spins around from where he’s hanging ribbons.

“There he is! My sweet boy!” Pa cheers. 

My mouth is still hanging open when ask, “What is going on?”

Minnie rushes over, “You got the job!” She jumps, shaking her head from side to side. 

“Eh?”

“We didn’t mean to pry, but the email came in when Minnie was using the laptop for an assignment. Congratulations, Luke,” Pa says, cradling my face in his palms before kissing my forehead. “I told you, didn’t I?” He laughs, turning away. 

I look down on my phone and open the email app. The first message reads: Welcome Aboard from Centurion Corp. and my mind goes blank. It is all there in bold black letters. A job offer, a real job offer, and no matter how much I squint, making sure my eyes are not deceiving me, it is still there. In bold black letters. And I’m not sure what to do with myself, what to say, or how to say it. 

Everything warps around me, everything is squeezing itself around me, and nothing makes sense. But it does. And yet it doesn’t.

I feel Pa and Minnie beaming smiles my way, Timi is coming down the stairs, calling my name. He says something about celebrations, I think it is a question, he is close, but I don’t hear him. Not clearly, his voice is all muffled up. I can’t move. It all feels unreal.