Page 89 of Taking Over
Me: August is a family name. All the eldest sons in my dad’s line are named August.
Me: I almost failed out of MIT the first semester of freshman year because I didn’t know how to study. Had always relied on school just being easy for me.
Me: I’d like a pet, but I’m allergic to cats and don’t have time to walk a dog.
She doesn’t respond for a couple of minutes—agonizing minutes I spend staring at my phone and waiting for an indication that I haven’t made a complete fool of myself. When the gray “typing” bubble pops up, I’m so relieved that I let out an audible exhale.
Julia: I almost failed out of Yale because I was doing coke instead of studying.
Julia: I’d like a dog, but I travel too much.
The first text is a perfect segue into the coke bender that inspired me to found FundRight, I know—but it’s still too soon.
Me: Not interested in a cat?
Julia: I told you, at this point in my life, I’m looking for the possibility of love. I hear cats can be notoriously reticent to love.
I can practically see her smirking.
Me: I hear cats do well when patient, beautiful women give them a chance.
Julia: August, you’re such a dork. Stop using cats as a metaphor for yourself.
This time I chuckle aloud. I had that coming.
We keep texting throughout the day. Even when I break to go to the gym, or she goes to dinner (in Lisbon, where she’s currently traveling), our conversation picks up where we left off.
Me: I’ve read the Odyssey ten times.
Julia: The Iliad is a million times better.
Me: I’m more annoyed by people who are underwhelmed by the Mona Lisa than I am by the people in line to take selfies with the Mona Lisa.
Julia: Same. Like, did you not know what you were about to see? What did you expect?
Julia: I wish I were better at math. I hate relying on my phone calculator.
Me: On the flip side, being good at math was my entire personality until I was twenty-three.
This continues for days. Weeks. It progresses beyond texting. Sometimes I call her. Sometimes she calls me. Our conversations run late into the night or begin early in the morning. Slowly but surely, the confessions get easier.
Me: There are days when I wonder if I’m successful because I earned it, or because I had an idea in the right place at the right time.
Julia: Both can be true. You earned it…being in the right place at the right time was important though.
Me: Sometimes, I hate my parents for never giving me a brother or sister.
Julia: Feel free to borrow one of my brothers anytime.
Me: I think my assistant is my best friend. Maybe my only friend. That’s sad because I pay him so much.
Julia: I don’t have any friends that are women. I used to think it was because I was pretty. Now I think it’s because I’m a jerk.
Me: You’re not a jerk.
Julia: Yes I am.
Me: I think you’re misunderstood.