This Is My Brain on Chemistry

JOCELYN

Will sits across from me and I slide the glass of water over to him. He nods in thanks and fiddles a little bit with the corner of the napkin. It’s the smallest sign of nerves and reminds me that I’m supposed to be running the show.

It’s hard to feel in charge when he’s wearing a suit and I’m in an outfit Frankensteined from my thrift-store chic wardrobe. I feel… short sitting across from him and straighten up a little bit. But it’s weird. He doesn’t act tall, and his shoulders slope a little bit, almost apologetically. It’s cute. Or it would be if I weren’t concentrating on interviewing him. Which I totally am.

I clear my throat and peek down at my notes.

“So, Will. What makes you interested in working here at A-Plus?”

WILL

I swallow, and suddenly I can feel my heart throbbing in my ears. This is the question that I’ve dreaded the most, that I pondered all last night as I second-guessed my decision to accept the interview. I’m still not sure if I’ll get it right.

“I’ve eaten your food before and think that it’s great. I like that you can use my web skills, and it’ll be cool to get behind-the-scenes in the restaurant game. Plus, I work for the St. Agnes school paper and my adviser wanted me to learn how to manage a team and grow a business.”

She nods, expression neutral. I want to see that little sliver of a smile again, so I add, my voice shaking only a little, “Also I thought your sign was cute.”

If you were to measure it, her lips probably tick up only a millimeter. But it brings me miles closer to calm.

JOCELYN

I knew the emojis would be a hit. I knew it! My dad frowned and said it looked “not professional,” but I was right. I let myself preen for just a second and then settle down to business. Who is this guy and do I want to pay him with the money I shredded my soul to earn?

“You said you work for the school newspaper at St. Agnes?” That’s the local Catholic school. No wonder I didn’t recognize him.

“I just finished my sophomore year.”

“Me too. I’m at Perry High.” Weird, to be interviewing someone who is the same age as me. My eyes flick toward the legal pad with questions from Monster.com.

“Tell me about your greatest strength? And your biggest weakness?”

Will nods and looks straight at me, and wow, effective use of eye contact. While his skin is a smooth medium brown, his eyes are dark, almost black, kind of like mine. “My greatest strength is probably that I am very detail oriented and careful. I think before I act and try to consider all the consequences of my actions before I do anything. That’s how my parents raised me.”

He says the last part almost as an afterthought and breaks our gaze to take a sip of water.

WILL

My parents raised me to be thoughtful, of course, because when you’re black in America you need to consider the consequences of your actions in a way that other people don’t.

Sometimes, though, thinking too much can paralyze you. So when Jocelyn asks me what my biggest weakness is, I tell the truth. “I guess the flip side of thoughtfulness is that I can think too much. Once in a while, it takes me too long to get things done. My sister, Grace, calls me a camel.” I grin, thinking of last Christmas when she gleefully packed my stocking with dromedary-themed stuff. “I can agonize for hours over things that seem trivial to others. But the thing is, I feel like when I make decisions, I can stand by them.”

JOCELYN

Will’s honesty catches me off guard. “Good answer,” I blurt out a millisecond before the silence gets uncomfortable. I blush. God, how condescending.

He takes it in stride, and I wonder if it’s because he’s been told too many times how “articulate” he is. “Thank you.”

I look at question number three. “So, what do you want to know about us?”

“What are the general duties you mentioned in your e-mail?” Will asks.

I shrug. “Whatever needs to be done. The main thing I need help with is social media and outreach. We need to get more customers. But the more customers we have, the more we might need someone to help with processing credit cards and delivering. Do you have a car?”

Will nods.

Thank God. If Will can drive, we can expand our delivery radius—right now we only deliver to where my brother and I can bike. We really aren’t going to find a more perfect candidate. The restaurant might actually have a fighting chance.

“Anyway, that’s the deal. I think you’d be great for the job. We can’t really pay you more than minimum wage plus gas mileage, but you’ll also get some money from tips. You could probably get thirty to forty dollars if it’s a good night. And of course, we’ll provide a meal each shift.”

This is the part that I dread: I watch him do the mental math, and I step back for a second and consider this from his point of view. He has a good résumé, excellent references. What the heck do I think A-Plus Chinese Garden can offer him?

Nothing.

I close my laptop and finish off my water in one gulp. “I can give you a few days to make your decision. I know you’ve probably got a lot of options. But if it sweetens the pot any, I can also add the Netflix password that I stole from my BFF into your compensation package.”

He grins at that, the corner of his eyes crinkling, and I feel a pang that it might be both the first and the last time I ever see his smile.

WILL

When Jocelyn offers me a job on the spot, our role reversal is so absolute it’s dizzying. All of a sudden, I’m no longer the supplicant. I’ve been chosen, and I don’t know what to do with my newfound power to reject.

I don’t respond immediately, and Jocelyn’s face falls, and I’m surprised by how keenly I feel her disappointment in my own chest. It seems out of proportion to what I could offer as an employee.

If I’m being honest, I applied to the job to prove to myself and to Javier that I’m an equal-opportunity job seeker, and I agreed to the interview mostly because it seemed like a low-stakes way to get another interview under my belt. But then today when I told Manny where I was going, he got really excited. “Did you know A-Plus is the only restaurant in that strip mall that hasn’t closed in my lifetime?”

It made me wonder if there is a story there. In the Spartan, we’re always writing about stores that are opening. We’ve never really done a piece on the restaurants—the Utica institutions, really—that stay open. Just last fall, Javier went for a photo shoot for an article about a new gastropub; I remember laying out his photos and being surprised by how trendy it looked, and thinking that the owners must have spent a fortune on interior design.

That gastropub closed within eight months. And yet A-Plus, with its battered Formica tabletops and minimalist decor, has been around for as long as I can remember.

There has to be a story there.

Jocelyn stands up and bites her lip. “Well, thank you for your time.”

I blurt out a response without thinking about it.

“I’ll take it.”

Jocelyn’s eyes bug out comically. “You… Seriously?”

Watching her light up ignites a warmth in my belly that cements my decision, my use of power. “Yeah,” I say, taking in the bare-bones restaurant. It’s clean. Rough around the edges, for sure, but it’s not trying to be anything that it isn’t. “This place has a lot of potential.”

JOCELYN

Maybe I’m not the only one who’s desensitized to design.

I reach out my hand, happiness and hope bubbling up inside me.

“Welcome to the A-Plus team, Will. You can call me Jos.”