Watch Me Drown

25. Memories

TW: homophobia

(Abby's point of view)

The second I was slid into the MRI tube, I closed my eyes and thought about Julien, specifically a younger Julien, the one I had met in 2020...

***

(Flashback)

Work was slow. Occasionally, someone would come in to get their takeout, but other than that, I stood at the counter and waited. Restaurants had just opened up again, and people were a little wary about eating in the place. It was busier on the weekends. Week days were always boring. I kept reminding myself that it was for the money. Once I got enough, I could move somewhere nicer. Not that where I was living wasn't nice, it was just that...well, I was living in a tiny apartment on top of an Italian restaurant. My mattress smelled like tomato sauce. I worked in the restaurant in exchange for a place to stay. The owner had known my grandmother. My grandmother had set it all up. She knew that I wouldn't stick around my hometown without her.

It was a Wednesday, the slowest day of all. Adelina, the owner, put me in charge of music. I had done it every day since I arrived. That day, I had played a mix of slow Taylor Swift songs. I was humming to "Daylight" when I heard the door open. I was doodling on an order pad, my back to the door, distracted.

"Excuse me? I have a take out order."

Her voice was deep, but a little squeaky and raspy. I could hear a tiny bit of what was left of her accent. It was immediately comforting.

"What's the name for the order?" I spun around.

My voice broke at the end, because I saw her. She had a mask on, just like me, but it didn't really matter when her brown eyes met mine. She looked tired, her eyes not fully open, light circles under her eyes. When she saw me, though, something in her expression changed. Her face lit up and her eyes opened more. Her hair was the same color as caramel. It was messily pushed to one side, a few shorter pieces threatening to fall in her eyes. Her arms were crossed over her chest, her jacket pulled up slightly, revealing tattoos. She was wearing all black, the only spark of color being her fingers. They looked red and irritated. I had a feeling that it was from playing guitar.

We stared at each other, silently falling in love.

"Uh, Julien!" She said suddenly, blinking and looking anywhere but my face. "Julien is the name for the order."

"Let me...I'll go check on that." I managed to say.

I was still in awe of her. I ran back to the kitchen for a minute, to check on her order, and gather myself. Had I ever seen someone so beautiful? She looked like a legit angel! I wondered if I was dreaming, and would open my eyes any second to darkness and my thin pillows. God, I would miss her if it was just a dream. I crossed my fingers, hoping that I was in reality. I felt very relieved when I went back out and Julien was still there.

"Are you new around here?" I couldn't help but ask.

"Not necessarily," She answered. "I just really wanted Italian food."

We laughed a little, then the chef brought out her bag of food.

"You picked the right place," I told her as I handed it to her. "And I'm not just biased because I work here. The food is exceptional."

"Well...maybe I'll have to come back." She said.

Oh my god. We were flirting. How was I doing that? How was she doing that? Who would flirt with me, of all people? I didn't look good. My hair was pulled back in a messy bun that hung by my neck, and my eyes were as tired as hers, maybe more. I didn't bother putting on makeup. I sort of lost the will to put myself together. All I wanted was to get through the day without crying. Also, I was pretty thin. Not healthy thin. I looked a little sick. I didn't eat very much, and when I did, I left half the plate. I had completely lost my appetite. It was one of the lowest points of my life.