Ten Years Ago
My eyes blinked rapidlyin an attempt to send moisture to them, but it was a failed effort. I’d been staring at this computer for hours, trying so hard to get everything done. Out the window beside my desk, the sun was traveling across the sky. I was running out of time. I glanced around the office, my eyes flitting to my coworkers, who were sat in half-cubicles, casually finishing up their days.
I continued sorting files into different folders labeled things likeIMPORTANT,Needed for G3,Explanations,Confidential but need to know, until the exact second the clock in the corner of my monitor hit 5:00 p.m.
At that, I shut down the computer and pushed out from my desk. I snatched my backpack from where it hung on the back of my chair and put it on, turning away from the desk before pivoting back and seizing a Post-it note.
“Fuck,” I muttered to myself at a sharp slice of pain. The note nicked my pointer finger, giving me a paper cut. I pressed the finger to my mouth to soothe the sting, tasting salt. On the note, I wrote the wordPASSWORDSin all caps then jotted down three passwords—all similar but slightly varied—then I tore the sticky note off the pad and slapped it to the front of my monitor.
I swiveled again, saying goodbyes to my coworkers. My head whipped around the office as I marched through it. Where the hell was he? The reason I wasted my day atwork, of all places, was so I could spend time with him. My heart pounded in my ears. There was no way that he left before me. My head turned toward the kitchen and?—
“Izan,” I said as I strode toward him, relief flooding my chest.
My best friend had brown skin and dark curly hair pulled into a bun atop his head that I would tease him relentlessly for. However, in reality, he pulled it off.
Izan looked up from the water bottle he was filling. “Hey, man. Taking off already?”
I shrugged, failing my attempt at casual. “I have a thing after work, but I wanted to find you before I left.”
Izan regarded me curiously. “Anything wrong? You’re sweaty.”
I wiped my forehead with the back of my hand, it coming away moist.Gross. Iwassweaty.
“Oh, no. Fine. I’m fine.” I firmly grabbed Izan by the shoulders, causing him to rear back with a raised brow. I had to say this now. “You know you’re my best friend, right? I love you.”
Izan placed the back of his hand to my forehead, which I swerved away from. “Are you sure you’re all right? You don’t feel like you have a fever—oof!”
I pulled Izan into a tight hug.
He patted my shoulder cautiously as he accepted the hug. It wasn’t like this was the first time I hugged him. “You’re freaking me out, man.”
“Sorry.” I pulled away, eyes downcast. “Sorry. Long day.”
“Sure,” Izan said. He gently slapped me twice on the face. “I love you, too, you freak. See you tomorrow? Call me later if you need to.”
“I will.”
I won’t.
When Izan took off, I took my leave from the office, finding my bike where I left it chained up in the parking lot. I climbed on and pumped the pedals hard before skidding to a stop in front of my apartment building.
I locked the bike to the rack in front and entered my first-floor apartment. I dropped my backpack to the floor of my kitchen and almost immediately followed suit myself. Heart pounding in my ears, I curled up on the ground in child’s pose, taking in deep breaths and letting out very shaky ones. When my mind cleared, I forced myself up to my knees and shook my head.
“I can do this,” I said aloud. On unstable legs, I stood and took cautious steps toward my living room, where I fell backward onto the couch. I pulled out my phone, my reflection staring back at me in the black screen. The deep dark circles under my eyes were solid proof that I had not slept in a month.
I opened the phone and called my mom.
She answered right away. “Kit, honey. You don’t normally call me on Wednesdays. Is something wrong?”
“Just calling to say hi,” I lied, eyes wet and on the verge of tears.
“Work all right?”
“Yeah, work’s fine.”
She asked, “You can make it for your dad’s birthday, right? Next Sunday? I’m making my grocery list.”
I squeezed my eyes shut, jaw clenched tightly. “Yeah,” I lied. “I can definitely do next Sunday.”
