Page 35 of What If It's You?

I checked the T app, which confirmed a Green Line shutdown. Annoying, but typical. I paused on my way out of the office, sinking into one of the geometric furniture pieces in the lobby to send a quick text to Ollie.

TO: Ollie Hughes

All done here but train isn’t running. What time are you done with lessons?

Thinking maybe I could meet you out somewhere for a quick bite before the show?

“Hey, Laurel. You’re still here?” I glanced up to find Mark grinning at me as he busily loaded up his crossbody bag at the main desk. “You’re not going to the D&D movie screening, are you? If you are, I think I still have time to put in a dinner order for you. Iknowthe booze order is big enough to cover you.”

“That sounds tempting, but I’m gonna have to pass tonight. Have fun, though.”

“Oh, I’m not going. As soon as the food shows up I’m snagging my volcano roll and getting the hell out of here. Love my job, but I spend enough time here without making it my entire social life, too.” Mark grinned widely, raising a hand to his mouth and lowering his voice. “But if anyone asks, I was all about the company bonding movie night.”

“Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me.” I smiled, glancing at my phone to see if Ollie had responded yet. If I didn’t hear back from him in…three minutes, I’d just head back to the apartment. “Big plans for the weekend?”

“Nothing crazy. Aaron and I wanted to grab brunch at Space Odyssey. Have you been yet? The décor iswild.”

I gripped the edge of the seat as a wave of dizziness overtookme.

“Umm…no, I don’t think so. Is it good?”

“Good? Yes. Does it live up to the hype? Meh…probably not. But Aaron wants to post a picture of us there to make his ex jealous. I shouldn’t indulge it, but honestly? Roderigo issuchan asshole, so yeah, be petty, sweetie.”

“Sounds like fun.” My nails dug into the stiff vinyl upholstery and I breathed deep, trying to work through the sudden light-headedness. Maybe something was going on with my blood pressure. I checked my phone—Ollie still had two minutes to respond. Swallowing hard against a wave of nausea, I closed my eyes,breathing in through my nose, out through my mouth. When I opened them, Mark was frowning at his computer screen.

“Everything alright?” I said.

“It’s fine. I just…Whoa, Laurel, are you okay?” His eyes went wide. “Do you want me to call someone to help you? I can ping Drew if you want.”

“No, I’m fine. Just been having dizzy spells lately. I’m sure it’s nothing.”

“Do you need a soda? Maybe something to eat? When my blood sugar gets low I getsowoozy.” He stretched to the opposite end of the desk. “I have…lemon cookies, trail mix, oooh, green tea Pocky. Do you want some Pocky?”

“Honestly, I’m okay. I just need a couple minutes to catch my breath.” The light from my phone screen drew my eyes down. A glimmer of excitement lit under my sternum—I’d been worried Ollie wouldn’t respond, sometimes his Friday lessons went late, but I realized now that I was really set on the idea of our doing something spontaneous together—we’d had tickets to the show for weeks, but that was hours away, there was no reason we couldn’t surprise ourselves in the interim. We used to change our plans on the fly all the time, the rush of tiptoeing into uncharted territory together more than enough to outweigh the handful of times it was a total bust. But in the last year or two, routine’s slow, pervasive spread had choked off sudden whims andwhy nots?,ivy killing its host. Somehow, I hadn’t even realized how much I missed the versions of us who made things up as we went, people who took a morning off to ogle the beauty of mouse Petra. I clicked the notification.

FROM: Drew

Coming down now. You can call the uber

Wait…what?

“Oh, no no no no no,” I murmured, clicking open my messages,scrolling frantically, knowing already the exchange with Ollie wouldn’t be there.

“If you think you’re going to be sick, there’s a trash can over there.” Mark’s entire face was crumpled with disgust, his shoulders preemptively angling away from me even as he pointed past me toward the entrance of the building. I blinked at him, not quite processing. But I didn’t have a chance to respond, because seconds later, Drew clattered down the main staircase, a sleek laptop case over one shoulder.

“Is the Uber on its way? Sorry if you were waiting long, Luke had a couple blockers that I needed to help him work through before I could tap out.”

My stomach sank as I took in the tall, handsome man walking toward me, smiling softly, a plain black T-shirt visible between the open plackets of the olive jacket he was wearing.

“Laurel? You with me?” Drew stopped short, waving his hand to catch my attention.

“Oh, umm…yeah, sorry.”

“Laurel wasn’t feeling well,” Mark said, stance still wary.

“Really? I thought you said you were feeling better this morning.”

“I was. This just came on now.” Hopefully the pained twist of my face could be attributed to my mystery illness.

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