Page 7 of Alessia
2 - Harper
What the fuck just happened? Here I was minding my own goddamn business and all of a sudden, this tornado almost makes a pavement pancake of me. My heart is still in my throat although less than before.
Alessia…
I love how her name sounds. My lips start moving and before I know it her name rolls off my lips and I hear it out loud. Chills run up my spine. I shake my head and wipe my eyes with my hands. I need to get home. I love this rooftop, but I really need to get to the store before my next shift starts.
I turn around, walk to the door and start the walk down the stairs back to the dressing room. Lost in my own thoughts, I turn the corner and hit something hard but soft.
“Sorry!” My face turns red with embarrassment, and hands gripping my arms to steady me.
“Am I literally going to keep bumping into you from now on?” a familiar voice says. I look up and see Alessia holding me. Seriously I never see her and now twice in an hour?
“Hi Alessia, I guess we are.”
She laughs and it sounds so melodic. That chill up my spine returns. Okay I need to get a grip on that, and soon!
“I’ve got to run; Doctor Bob will kill me if I’m late to my shift again.” She lets go of me and starts to walk away before I can say anything.
She stops, turns around and walks back. My brows furrow.
She stops before me, leans in and grabs something from my pocket. When I look down, I see she took my notepad and pen. Alessia flips to the page where I wrote down her name and starts writing. She looks at me with a mischievous grin, closes my notepad and gives it back. Then she has the audacity to wink and walks away.
I walk to my locker and open up my notepad and quickly find the page where her name was. There it is, in cute swirly handwriting.
I never got your number so now you have mine.
310-555-3911
-xx- Alessia
I tear out the page and put it in my bag, maybe I’ll use it later. I start undressing, throw my scrubs in the laundry basket and put on my leggings and oversized sweater. Iunbraid my hair and let it hang loose so my aching scalp gets some rest. I throw my bag over my shoulder and run out the door into the spring Los Angeles air.
An hour and a half later, I’m home and crash down on my couch. I turn on the tv and flip through the channels. I settle on the news channel and grab my phone from my bag, a piece of paper swirling to the ground. I grab it and look at it. Oh, fuck; I almost forgot about Alessia’s number. I stare at it for a while and then I crumple it up, I walk over to the trashcan and let go of the ball of paper.
I sit back down on the couch and start going through my social media. Reels and TikToks consume me. Masked men, book recommendations and thirst trap women fill my afternoon. At 3 PM my alarm goes off, the reminder that I need to get back to the hospital for another shift.
I walk over to the counter and grab a banana, I’ll eat dinner at the hospital tonight, just need something to ease the rumble in my stomach.
Out of the corner of my eye I spot the crumpled-up number of Alessia, lying on top of the trash. I walk over and look, no stare at it. I bite of a piece of the banana..
It feels like that stupid piece of paper is mocking me, calling to me.
With a lot more force than necessary I throw my banana peel on top of it. Good riddance!
I grab my bag and keys and walk to the door, one last look to see if all the windows are closed. My eyes glance over the trashcan again, like it’s pulling me in.
I stomp back and grab that stupid piece of paper. I pull out my phone and open my messages.
Happy Now?
I jank the door closed behind me and walk down the stairs to the parking lot. When I get to my car my phone chimes.
