He took my hands and said, “I’m wearing Wil’s tux. It feels weird. Does it fit?”
The pants were too short and his jacket was too big. His silver bow tie sat askew. He looked perfect.
I nodded.
He exhaled and said softly, “Asher’s passed out on a couch in the lobby.” We swayed to the music as applause swelled around us. “Does this count as our first date? We look really fancy and we’re dancing and there’s an open bar.”
Did he say . . . first date?
I nodded again.
The tears finally came. Joyful tears, mixed with a smattering of thank the fuck relieved ones. After all our ups and downs, back and forths, Nolan and I finally fell into place together.
Candace ran up to me with wads of tissue. “Don’t let your makeup run! They’re taking pictures!”
The DJ cranked up Taylor Swift’s “How You Get the Girl,” and a dozen or so drunk people joined us on the dance floor. The nondancing guests clinked their forks on their plates as they happily devoured their gorgonzola beet salads.
My eyes focused only on Nolan, who pulled away and shimmy danced next to me, making me giggle. “Mel, I wanted to ask you out for so long, but I was too chicken. It sounds stupid, but I thought that maybe you would ask me out if you liked me. You seemed like the first-mover type. After we kissed though, I wanted to go for it . . . but could never quite get the timing right with all the shit that kept happening to you. That, and you also somehow kept becoming my boss. And then I had to find a job and you had your game release. I even just now tried to tell you in the elevator how I felt but royally screwed that up too.” He stopped dancing. “I was worried I’d waited too long. I guess that really sounds stupid.”
“No, I definitely get it. It was never a good time. But, look, today we’re together, and all decked out.” At the song’s end, he spun a full 360 degrees, showing off his borrowed tux.
He grabbed me around the waist, tighter this time. I whispered as we swayed together to the music, “It’s weird to see you without any gingham.”
“What the hell is gingham?” he asked, pulling his head back to look at me.
My jaw dropped. “You wear it all the time, are you serious?”
He drew in closer. “You’ll have to show me what you’re talking about then. No clue.”
“Okay, on our next date.” Tilting my head up, I tugged his nongingham shirt so he’d bend down. “Thank you for everything you did today.” Closing my eyes and heart fluttering with anticipation, I inhaled his clean showered scent and parted my lips. Without any hesitation this time, I pressed my mouth against his. His lips were soft, and full, and perfectly smooth. Like with two opposing magnets, it was hard to pull away from him. This was all I wanted, to be here with Nolan Fucking MacKenzie. Kissing Nolan Fucking MacKenzie. In a toga pressed against Nolan Fucking MacKenzie.
“Wow,” he murmured. His eyes opened slowly, as if he was awakening from an incredible dream. “Can we do that again?”
“Yes. Stop talking.” I pulled his shirt and brought his lips to mine again, pressing harder this time, sending ripples of electricity through my body. I breathed him in deeply as he slid his hands down my lower back and slowly showered me with kisses down the left side of my neck, sending my heart racing.
Candace and Wil danced over to us. “Get a room!” they cheered in unison.
Nolan and I looked at each other and burst into laughter. Maybe Candace wouldn’t mind if I kicked her out of the bridesmaids’ room.
The dance floor cleared, and my parents called just as we sat down for dinner. Nolan looked down at my vibrating phone. “You know, now’s a good time to take it, or they’ll keep calling back, over and over and over . . .”
I laughed. “You’re right. Who knows what we’ll be up to later.” I squeezed his shoulder and left the ballroom. In the lobby, I paced around while telling my parents about the wedding, letting them know that Nolan and I had finally gone on a date.
Drunk Asher lifted his head from the couch. “Issss ’bout fucking time.” He passed out immediately.
Mom screeched, “Waaaaaaa! We so happy! Jee-jus answer our prayer! We pray every day. Every day because you single so long. SO long. Now maybe Jee-jus answer our other prayers.”
“Other prayers?”
My mom yelled, “We want you to marry!”
Then my dad. “And have baby!”
Oh god. Really?
Epilogue
Eight Months Later
The University of Washington eSports Club held a “Women in Gaming” Q&A, and most of the questions had been easy to answer.
“What’s your favorite game of all time?”
Easy. Mario Kart. A Nintendo classic.
“What’s the hardest game you ever played?”
Any Resident Evil title. It’s hard to play when you’re covering your face with a pillow because you’re too scared.
“Do you like working in video games?”
Depends when you ask me. I just got promoted to producer, so as of today, yes!
A student raised her hand, and the moderator handed her the mic. “Hi, Melody, I’m the president of the esports club, Jessie. What do you think is the hardest part about being a woman in gaming?” Jessie had dyed jet-black hair with purple streaks and wore black leather head to toe. Her bright red lipstick suited her. Such contrast and boldness.
“This is a great question. Does everyone have a few hours? It may take me a while to answer!” I took a sip of water to buy some time. The room fell silent. I could hear people breathing. Dozens of young men and women at this event waited to hear my response.
“For women in gaming, you’re damned if you do, and damned if you don’t. Let’s take an actual game play example. A question for the female gamers in the audience, how many of you have been told that you’re good, for a girl?”
A few hands crept up, from a dozen or so female gamers.
“Okay, now for those women here who aren’t good at gaming. I’m one of them. How many of you have been told you aren’t any good because you’re a girl?”
Half the women there raised their hands. More than I expected.
“So it’s sort of like that, working in games. Women working at game companies have to constantly overcome perception barriers. I argue a lot about how women are portrayed in the games we produce. Gaming is very white, and bro heavy. And the more nonwhite nonbros we have at companies like mine who can interject opinions and different perspectives, the more diverse the gaming offerings will be in the future. I would love to see more of this happen.”
I looked at Jessie to see if I’d answered her question. She smiled back at me and nodded.
Whew.
“If it’s okay to shamelessly plug my company’s diversity internship program, I’d love to do that now.” I passed out our recruitment flyers. With the help of Sue from HR, Seventeen Studios established a paid diversity summer program, created by yours truly. The board of directors approved our plan for broadening our recruiting efforts in all levels of hiring (*cough* more women *cough* people of color *cough* LGBTQ *cough*). The beauty of this program was that we weren’t just limited to new college graduates. Underrepresented professionals who wanted to switch industries and work in games could apply too.
Sue and Tope, our new, wonderful studio leader, asked me to be the company’s diversity show pony (okay, maybe not in those words), but I was fine with that. Nonwhite, nonmale game producers were uncommon. We needed more. With the number of female gamers growing exponentially each year, gaming could go the way of American college admissions, where the number of women surpassed the men. In just a few months, Sue and Tope had overhauled our entire hiring process, revamped our diversity and sexual harassment employee training, and implemented mandatory manager inclusivity coaching, with the goal of helping teams foster community with new diverse group members.
After the Q&A ended, students and community members wandered to the back of the room to hoard the free cookies, crackers, cheese cubes, and soda. It reminded me of the Seventeen lunchroom after a board meeting, when all the vultures swooped in to forage the sandwich and cookie trays. The board of directors always left soggy chicken salad pita remnants, and oatmeal raisin cookies. I don’t know why anyone would ever bother to order oatmeal raisin cookies. Who would ever pick oatmeal raisin over a chocolate chip cookie?
Jessie skipped the free food frenzy and beelined over to me. She handed me her résumé. “I would love to work at Seventeen. I love games, and I have As in all my CS classes.”
She had the grades, and the right background. I skimmed her cover letter and résumé. “This all looks great. You have an outstanding academic record and you’ve had some impressive internships already.” I couldn’t wait to pass her information to Sue and the recruiting team. I’d even send it to Nolan at Epicenter so she had more than one company in play.
She handed me her business card. “Jessie Alvarez, Games Enthusiast.” I flipped the card over. A simple logo embossed on a plain white background: “13.13.”
“It would be a dream come true for me to work with you,” she said, adjusting her horn-rimmed glasses on her nose.