She set the paper down. “Baby... I'm sorry.”
My throat was parched. “What?”
“They said it's not what they're looking for at the moment.”
I grabbed the paper and read the words written there. She hadn't lied—in fact, she had phrased it even more kindly than them. “This doesn't suit our line of offerings,” they had written.
Nothing about it being good, or even having potential. Nothing about how I should make a few changes and resubmit for further consideration.
My heart was racing. Tears sprang into my eyes. “This can't be,” I said, setting the paper down shakily. “No, this has to be a mistake.”
“It's okay, baby.”
I pushed the paper away, then thought again and grabbed it back so I could crumple it up. “It's not okay. I thought they were going to accept this. I thought they were going to love it.”
“They didn't say it was bad, they just said it wasn't right for them.”
“That's bullshit, and you know it. We checked, and this fit their style perfectly. They hated it. They must have.”
“They didn't say that. You need to calm down. This isn't the end of the world.”
“You calm down!” I tore the paper in half, and then tore it into shreds. “I’m reacting the exact way that I should. This thing was my brainchild, my passion, my baby, and they spat in my face.”
“It's one rejection, Chelsea.” Tara’s face was changing, hardening. “There will be more opportunities.”
“Stop with the stupid platitudes. Do you really think I'm going to fall for that?”
“I'm trying to support you.”
“Then go tell this company they made the wrong decision.” I threw down the shreds of paper in my hands. Tara had never irritated me so much. I should have opened the box by myself.
“Chelsea, you’re being overdramatic and downright immature. I thought you were better than this.”
My hackles immediately rose when she called me my name rather than “baby.” And then there was that word again. I wasn’t immature. Maybe a little before, but I’d listened to my friends and grown and changed. Wasn’t that the definition of maturity?
“How dare you?” I lashed out.
“It just figures you’d react like this.”
“You're such an asshole.”
“And you're such a baby.”
I stared at her, my jaw dropped. How dare she call me names? “I can't believe you would say something like that.” My blood was starting to boil. “This is the worst thing to ever happen to me in my life. You wouldn't understand. You've never been through anything like this.”
Her eyes became steel, and she pushed back her chair. “I'm going to leave while you sit here and think about what you said.”
I crossed my arms. “Go for it.”
My hands shook as I watched her collect her things and leave. I had to grip my arms to keep her from seeing the way she’d affected me. As soon as she was out the door, my whole body began to tremble and tears sprang into my eyes.
How could she be so awful to me? She knew how much this moment had meant to me. I’d counted on her to be there for me, and she’d been hateful instead.
I couldn’t believe how unsupportive she’d been. And to think I’d ever cared about her! She was a horrible human being, full stop. I never should’ve talked to her, never mind dating her.
A tear slid down my cheek, quickly followed by another. The rejection from the game company still stung, but not as much as Tara’s rejection. I had actually trusted her, and that didn’t come easily to me. Now she’d broken that trust.
The words she’d said replayed in my mind.You’re being overdramatic and downright immature. You’re such a baby.