The weekend was nice, finally hanging out with most of my friends. They’ve either moved away or had kids, and the few times we hang out, we make fake promises that we’ll hang out again soon. This is why it bothers me when Sheyla chooses not to hang out when we all come together. It’s so rare, and she was always the life of the party. I don’t know why I’m surprised. It's been years of her slowly ditching us. Always work being the excuse. But it was nice to finally hang out with her solo.

  It was so easy being in high school. We were all together, forced to hang out every day, but we made it fun. Any mistakes we made, we were just kids learning. Now, we’re dumb adults who should know better. It’s not as fun as I thought it would be on this side of life.

  My phone has been vibrating with Victor sending me updates every chance he gets. He left after dinner to visit his sister across the country for a few weeks, and he has been sharing pictures of his trip since he took the train.

  

  

  

  I heart all his texts, but I’m not really sure what to say back. If I type, wish I was there with you too, If I don’t type anything at all, it’s also bad because he might get the impression that I’m mad at him or something. It’s a delicate balance, and now Sheyla is in my head about hurting him. The truth is, I don’t want to hurt him, but I don't want to stop having this relationship. Eventually, I type in the word Enjoy!

  Phones ring every 10 seconds, emails come and go every 5 seconds, and I lose track of time. My head starts hurting, and my stomach rumbles, signaling it’s time for lunch. I look in my lunch bag, wishing with all my being that I didn’t forget my lunch this time. When I open my bag, it has a container filled with washed spinach. Once again, I took the wrong container in my rush out of my house. My headache grows stronger.

  I make my way over to the new vending machine to see if there’s anything that could hold me up till the end of my shift. If I find something partially healthy, that would be a plus. I curse myself for not checking the container first. Then, I curse myself for being unable to live independently; I feel guilty about thinking that way because my family needs my help. It’s not my parents’ fault they were laid off, my grandma’s for wanting to live her older days with her son, or my sister’s for breaking up a toxic and dangerous relationship and having a shitty salary despite all the years of school and teaching the younger generation.

  Lost in my thoughts of self-pity, I bump into someone’s chest as I turn the corner into the break room. My eyes take a second to adjust to who I bumped into. As my focus takes shape, I see . The guy I didn’t think existed in this reality. The guy I’ve only ever met in my dreams.

  I don't think I'm capable of having such a boring dream as my morning so far. This him. He somehow morphed out of my brain into a real human being.

  I have no words. I can’t believe it! I daydreamed about him every day. This is… unimaginable.

  His hazel eyes search deep within mine as I stand there, tilting my neck up to process the tall man in front of me. I study every pore on his face. He has the five o’clock shadow I’ve felt with my hands and those full lips I’d like to bite. His gray, collared work shirt covers the chest I bumped into, but the short sleeves reveal his tan, muscular arms. The very same ones that have been holding me in my dreams every night.

  He’s real, somehow. My breathing shallows as I try to keep it together so as not to cause a scene. The first impression I give him can’t be me fainting. He’s going to think I’m messier than I really am. I feel my eyes blinking rapidly to confirm his existence in front of me, and it’s not my brain playing tricks on me. I’m sure my face can’t hide how confused I am as I try to comprehend how it’s possible that he’s flesh and blood.

  After I admit to myself that what I’m looking at is, in fact, real, I take stock of how I look today. My hair is naturally curly, which my mom hates. She always tells me it looks messy, while straight hair looks tamed, combed, and more professional. But I didn’t care to straighten it today because a bun was much faster, since I’m rushing in the mornings and sharing one bathroom. My face doesn’t have nearly as many layers of makeup to hide all my acne scars from my youth. I didn’t even put on eyeliner today, just mascara. The cherry on top is my period in full blast today, making me feel bloated and gross.

  Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

  “Whoa! I’m so sorry!” he says with the smile that has melted the hearts of my co-workers, and now I’m joining that club. He has perfectly straight teeth and a shy dimple on his left cheek. It feels like I already know him.

  “No, I’m sorry. Jeez, I don’t know where my brain is at,” I say, trying hard not to stumble over my words since they are not the words my brain is thinking.

  “No, sorry. I’m rushing over here like a maniac. I should be more careful.”

  Jordan and Veronica sit in the reception area, with a clear view of the breakroom to their left. They are laser-focused on me even though Jordan is on the phone. He points at his computer and wiggles his fingers, signaling that he had messaged me as he promised. I can see in their eyes that they are enjoying this. I stand up taller, pretending I have confidence and my uterus isn't contracting like a punishment for not bearing a child. If there’s one thing I know straight men like, it’s the shape of a woman, and if there’s one thing my mom gave me that I’m grateful for, it’s curves.

  “We can stand here and apologize to each other all day, but unfortunately, that’s not going to feed me,” I say, trying to sound confident. I offer a smile.

  “I wouldn’t want to keep a lady hungry.” He smiles back.

  “Thank you, but this lady is going to try and get lucky today and find something good in our vending machine to eat because I forgot my lunch. So there’s a good chance I will still be starving by the end of the day.”

  His eyes widen. “Oh no! I just restocked, and I can say you have good snacking options, but I’m not sure about meal options.”

  “It’s ok, I’ll make something work.” I take a step away from him. “Thank you for… restocking our… machines. They need that, for sure. From time to time.” I’m an idiot. I stop talking and walk away, cursing my bleeding vagina for my brain.

  I can feel his eyes on me. I make sure to stand in a way that doesn't scream Aunt Flow. If I could wear PJs while menstruating, that would be the ideal scenario, and these loose, black slacks are the closest thing I have to that. I wish with all my being I could pull these pants off.

  “Well, if I had known you were in such a predicament, I would’ve insisted your employer stock more meals.”

  “I’m sure you would’ve.” I smile again. Then, I bend over to take a better look at the bottom row.

  I tap my card and decide to get some ramen that’s made in two minutes in the microwave. I debate getting two, but I don’t want him to see me get two. One of my friends was ghosted after she ate her entire meal because that was unladylike, even though we have stomachs just like everyone else. She also ate a salad of all things. Still, that’s enough to scare me into being vigilant about this. I immediately realized I didn’t have to be worried about that because he left. What a tease. I suddenly felt like my energy was depleted.

  “Oh, my cheeses!” Jordan rolls into the break room with Veronica like a pair of high school children. “I sent you a message!”

  “Sorry, I didn’t see it. I’ve been slammed with the work of three people they think one person could do.”

  “What did he feel like?” Veronica asks me. I couldn’t tell if she was joking.

  I smile, soaking this all in. “ the guy you’re all obsessed with?”

  “Oh, please, stop pretending you didn’t just see what we see,” Jordan says as he fumbles making his coffee.

  I smile as I pop my ramen in the microwave. I remembered my dream again. Could it seriously be that I dreamt about ? Or is he coincidentally similar enough that my brain is playing tricks on me?

  After getting my ramen out and dismissing everyone about my interaction with the infamous Delivery Man, I return to my office to eat there instead. I needed a safe place to fantasize about him. I think back to my love candle. Just as I sit down at my desk, I hear a knock.

  “Sorry to interrupt,” he says.

  My heart nearly skips a beat. “No, it’s ok. How can I help you?”

  “Well, I felt bad about you not having lunch, so I went ahead and got you something from the Indian place across the street. I figured it was safe to get you a vegetarian plate since I don’t know your preferences, and it’s much healthier. If you’re fully vegan, I can get you something else.”

  I struggle to say anything as he approaches me to give me the food in a paper bag. Nobody has ever been this nice to me. In what world did I wake up in today?

  “I— wow, you really didn’t have to go through all that trouble,” I manage to say.

  “It was no trouble at all.” He winks. “I’m Gabriel, by the way.” He reaches out his hand.

  “I’m Bej,” I struggle to say as I feel his rough skin just as I’ve felt them in my dreams. “How much do I owe you?”

  “Nothing at all.”

  “No, come on. Let me pay you back.”

  “This one is on me. If you’d like to repay me, just be around when I deliver the goods more often.” He smiles big as he walks away. “See you later, Bej.”

  He disappears into the hallway. My heart couldn’t beat any faster if I worked out, and my smile couldn’t be any bigger if I tried. The serotonin that just busted into my brain is more than any drug could ever accomplish. I can’t tell if this guy is trouble or if he’s the answer to my single existence.

  Finally, I have his name. Gabriel. It’s perfect. He’s perfect.

  A realization just crossed my mind. I don't know when I'll see him again.