“Let me guess,” Jay said, watching me rummage through my things. “You brought a book?”
I gave him the side-eye.
“You’ll wish you’d brought a book when we reach hour six.”
“I don’t need a book,” he said confidently. “Just a pen, paper, and some tic-tac-toe.”
“You’re kidding, right?”
He grinned. “Not in the slightest.”
The first speaker took the stage a few minutes later, launching into a detailed presentation on the latest advancements in periodontal surgery. I kept the book as a backup and decided to take notes on the first few speakers in my little notepad. And it turned out to be pretty interesting.
The next speaker talked about anesthesia, and I remained fairly focused for that one, too.
It was the third speaker that I yawned and started to feel the effects of waking up early.
A few seconds after my yawn, something tapped my hand. I turned to find that Jay had slid a small notebook—one that had come in the goodie bag—toward me. Already drawn on the page was a tic-tac-toe bracket.
I raised an eyebrow, but he just looked at me in complete silence, all seriousness.
He really was going to try to play tic-tac-toe with me?
I sighed, took my pen, and scribbled an X in the middle.
He took the paper back and wrote in an O.
We went back and forth a few times, and Jay won the first three rounds.
My innate competitiveness surged, and I grabbed the notebook to create a new bracket. Jay chuckled under his breath.
As the speakers droned on, we played almost thirtyrounds of tic-tac-toe, and before long, the first half of the conference was over. There would be a short fifteen-minute break before the second half.
“Well, that was fun,” Jay said, and a small laugh escaped me.
“We still have, like, four more hours.”
“Good thing you brought a book then,” he winked, then reached up to loosen his tie a little. “Would you like some water?”
“That would be great, thanks,” I replied, suddenly feeling very thirsty.
Jay nodded and weaved his way through the rows of seats toward the refreshment table. I took a moment to stretch and check the time. It was almost two o’clock. The last speaker wouldn’t finish until around six-thirty. I stifled a groan.
I told myself I could stick it out for a few more hours and hoped the next round of speakers would be engaging enough to keep me awake.
Jay returned a few moments later with water, and I gratefully took the cup.
“Thanks,” I said to Jay.
“No problem,” he said, settling in next to me again.
I drank the entire contents of the minty water. As I set my empty cup down, the first speaker of the second half of the conference stepped up to the stage. I turned my attention back to the microphone, feeling a little more awake after hydrating.
I was pretty far from the stage, so I didn’t recognize him at first.
But then he started speaking.
Suddenly, my surroundings felt faraway, and I couldhear my heartbeat in my ears. It felt like the room was shrinking.
