“I’m sorry sir, what did you say needed upgrading?” Arin responded to the person on the other end of her call. “Your computer’s cup holder? ... I’m sorry, I don’t think your computer comes with a—oh, that’s your CD ROM drive ... No it’s not … It’s not big enough for your coffee because it’s supposed to hold CDs … Yes, I’m sure your brother knows what he is talking about but … Yes ... I know … Sir … Please … You know what, I do think John’s Electronics sells bigger computer cup holders … Yeah, you were very right … I agree … Yup … Mmhmm... Great … Yeah … You’re welcome … Have a good day … you too … great, buh bye.”

Arin smacked the phone back onto the receiver as soon as the line was clear. Her groggy head lifted from the desk, where it laid for the past two hours. A heavy, bored groan released from her throat as she clicked away at her keyboard, typing nothing but lies.

In between each call she had to watch some really boring orientation video on her monitor. It was like the person hosting it had been punched in the mouth by an ogre and was still regaining consciousness. They had to have made it boring on purpose, to really test her ability to listen to useless information. Luckily, about ninety percent of it was the same repetitive, ego-stroking, praise Mag.Net gave themselves for their Channel 20 news (“The biggest and farthest reaching interdimensional news station in the universe” as the host said at least thirty times). They had to have mentioned that it never had a broadcast error, technical issue, or gone off air in nearly twenty years, every forty-five seconds. The rest was about the “incredible and top notch” upgrades they made to their back-up power system three years prior that Arin couldn’t have cared less about if her life depended on it.

All Arin could think about was how much she’d love to pull the plug on Channel 20 when she quit. At the rate of mind-numbing boredom she experienced on her first day, that would be sooner rather than later.

The video ended and Arin realized that it was the only thing keeping her from a whole new, previously undiscovered, landmark of boredom. She glanced at her phone then around the office. It was hard to see into her cubicle, since it was against the far wall, and she deemed it safe enough to practice. Arin flicked at her phone, turning it on and off with each motion. It wasn’t fun enough to be worth the risk, but it was better than staring at more grey walls. And she needed to practice. 

It was almost like Russian roulette. How long could she go before she short circuited something? Nobody knew. Needless to say, her phone insurance company hated her. 

She plopped her head onto her curled-up fist, continuing the risky action.

“Hello newcomer!” A voice rang from behind. Arin jumped out of her seat. In a panic, she powered her phone too far, overheating it.

The screen cracked and smoked like a springtime barbecue. Her arms wrapped around the sparking error, praying no one saw it, and tried to play it cool. Assuredly Ensured Insurance’s Agent Anthony would be getting another claim tonight. 

Arin faced the person who had startled her: a woman with jet-black hair pulled into a sleek ponytail on the very top of her head. An arcing wisp of bangs covered her heart-shaped face, and perfectly applied bronze makeup complemented her golden complexion. A sleeping, long-tamed social awkwardness awoke inside Arin in a wink. She had worked hard to hide that part of her persona since middle school, smothering it with bad jokes and sarcasm. This woman ruined it all with one glance from her umber eyes, which looked up from a clipboard—the saving grace from her witnessing Arin’s phone fiasco. 

“Oh, I—um, yeah, hello,” Arin said, very uncool-like. 

The woman stuck out her hand with an enthusiastic smile. “My name is Apryl Mae June, I just wanted to welcome you to the office.” 

Arin often found high levels of enthusiasm to be exhausting, but for some reason she didn’t find it too much with Apryl Mae June. Maybe it was because Arin was too busy scanning every detail of her face, unable to pay attention to how unrealistically happy she was. She wiped the sweat accumulating on her palms onto her jeans before accepting Apryl’s handshake. 

 “I’m your coordinating manager, so if you have any questions, please come see me. All right?” Apryl swung Arin’s arm with her greeting, and Arin couldn’t help but think she seemed a bit young to be a manager of the top IT service in the universe. She couldn’t have been but a few years older than herself. 

Great, she’s smart and pretty.

Out of nowhere, Apryl let out a huge, exaggerated yawn. “Oh my! It’s only eleven and I’m already exhausted. Guess I need to get coffee early today.” 

The whole office came alive in an instant. Guys poked their heads out from their cubicles. Sparks flew from their eyes as they all shifted back and forth between each other and the coffee machine on the other side of the office, ready for a face off. Two guys got up and nearly killed each other trying to get to the machine, but it was too late. Carl, a guy who shared his likeness with a bald rat, popped from behind her and reached his arm up and around Apryl’s shoulder, sporting a fresh, steaming cup of coffee. 

“Here you go,” he said, sweating.

“Oh. Thank you, Carl,” Apryl grabbed the cup of warm, delightful bean juice from his hand. He nearly fainted from joy when she accepted it. Several voices groaned with disappointment. 

Apryl took one sip. 

“Do you need sugar? I have some!” The guy in the cubicle behind Arin shouted. His ebullient smile flashed, bright and white. This guy had a full head of hair which shaped his face as nicely as his thick-rimmed glasses, and his fashion choices were impressive comparative to others in the office. Ergo, he was pretty much your average good-looking guy. He handed Apryl three packets of sugar.

“Thanks Stuart,” Apryl said, and grabbed the packets. She stuffed them into the pocket of her fitted pantsuit. Only Arin seemed to notice she was too polite to tell the man she needed to taste the full bitterness of black coffee that morning. 

“Anyway, everyone be nice to Arin, it’s her first day. We all have high hopes.” With that, Apryl walked away, almost skipping. Arin watched Apryl as she stopped to grab a drink from the water fountain.

“The trick is to always have sugar at your desk,” Stuart said to Carl as soon as Apryl was out of earshot. 

“I’m sorry. What the hell was all that?” Arin asked. “Do you plan your whole morning around talking to her or something?”

“Yeah, man. We all do. Every guy in the office is after Apryl,” Carl explained.

“Oh come on. Every guy?” Arin accused. “Surely at least one guy in this place would prefer another guy—“

“You haven’t been here for long have you?” Stuart asked, ignoring the latter half of her accusation. “You’ll learn. The supers in the city take all the good bachelors and bachelorettes. When someone like that isn’t claimed by a super, you don’t let it slide. You’ve got to get her attention before she gets a super’s.”

“That and she’s the only girl on this floor,” Carl added.  

Arin spun her chair around and planted her knuckles into her hips. “I’m a girl, you know.”

“Really? Hmm. Interesting,” Carl said, slumping back down into his cubicle. 

Stuart was still peeking over his cubicle wall at her. “Do you need coffee? Because I can get you coffee,” he asked, with a mild whisper. 

Arin grimaced. “No. I’m good, thanks.”

Arin picked up her phone, unable to steer her eyes away from Apryl, who was talking and laughing by the fountain with a few of the guys. Her laugh carried across the room, as did her pure smile. She looked over at Arin and, if Arin wasn’t mistaken, her smile grew just a little wider. 

“Hello…Hello?” called the voice on the other end of the phone, forcing Arin out of her daze. 

“Oh, sorry. Thank you for calling Mag.IT’s Hotline consultant service net. I’m Adam Arins, please spell your issue and tell me your name.”