I soundlessly turned my head, trying to clear it out of the deep sleep I had just awoken from. I looked out the window from my seat on the train, groaning when I realized that the wheat fields I had fallen asleep to were still flying past. I leaned back, sitting my cd player back on my lap, and listened to the old Bowling For Soup cd that I refused to give up. I looked at the watch on my wrist, and groaned again when I found that I still had another hour on the blasted train.

It was at this point I began cursing myself for being so cheap and choosing the train instead of the plane, which would have only taken one hour instead of three, and wouldn’t have given my back such an ache. I looked around at the other passengers, who looked even more uncomfortable than I did. The middle aged man sitting next to me was scrunched up something horrible, due to his being nearly six feet tall. His bald head was at an odd angle, and if I didn’t know better, through his slight snoring, I would have questioned whether he was still alive or not.

My own position was much more comfortable, as I was only five feet tall. My weight was lower than one hundred pounds, and I was told most of the time that I looked like I was still a young teenager. That usually put a damper on my mood, though, because I was nearly twenty six, and out of college for nearly three years at that point. My blue eyes and deep red hair made people take notice of me, and they usually figured out quite soon that redheads do have fiery and, more often than not, uncontrollable tempers. I loved the tanning bed my mom finally gave me, even if it was going to cause me great pain in the future, and I had gotten breast implants for my college graduation present from my older siblings. You may think that could cause me to look quite fake, but I didn’t overdo either of them. My tan was overtaken by my millions of freckles, and my chest was only upped about one cup size, to a mid-C.

I couldn’t wait to get this train ride over, I thought to myself as we passed yet another wheat field. How many were there, anyway, I wondered to myself. I couldn’t believe so much wheat was actually being used. I didn’t eat it. I thought it tasted absolutely disgusting! I sighed again, as I looked at my watch. Still another fifty minutes before this hell was through.

If I wasn’t so nervous, I could have possibly went back to sleep. Unfortunately, my stomach was all knotted up, my brain was buzzing like crazy, and I couldn’t quite calm either down. This was the first time I would see my best friend and her wife in nearly four years! After their elopement, and during my last year of college, Maria, the best friend, moved to Chicago to live with her wife, named Amara, and I hadn’t been able to find a spare second to visit since the big day. I had missed them both so much, and vice versa, so when I had mentioned on my blog that I was thinking of accepting a job near their neighborhood, they immediately offered me a place to stay while I was getting settled into their city.

My new job, the one bringing me to Chicago without any clue what I was doing, was for a PR company called “Cascade Communications.” It wasn’t a completely bottom level position, but it wasn’t the vice president position or anything like that. I was an assistant to one of the major agents in the company. The pay was the best that I had been offered so far, plus the company had worked with establishments like Harley Davidson and many movie stars. It had an amazingly impressive itinerary if I ever saw one.

I checked my watch again, tired of contemplating the horrific ideas of what those wheat fields have been used for. Another fifteen minutes had passed by. I looked around with frustration, and noticed that the guy beside me had a little snippet of drool rolling down his chin. I grimaced and turned back to the window. I noticed with triumph that the wheat fields had disappeared in the few minutes I had turned away. Now, I saw a few farm houses every mile or so. And then… Crap, a corn field. What is going on with these people? I mean, my parents live on a small farm, but what on earth are these people thinking?

I got out a notebook from my backpack and started writing. I was hoping that someday I could publish some of the writing I do. Unfortunately, I know that I’ll never be as good as Maria is with the flowy words and sweet plotlines. My writing is mainly for my own joy and self realizations. She, on the other hand, was working with her publisher to finish off her latest book of poetry, the second to be published. I heard from a reliable source-- namely her-- that her next anthology would be poems from her childhood and teen years. I’ll have to get the first book signed while I’m staying with them, I thought to myself.

I must have dozed off again, while I sat with my pen in hand. The train jerked to a stop and caused me to wake up. The whistle was the part that got to me. I always hated train whistles, because I thought they sounded quite a bit like an alarm clock. Waking up to an alarm clock is not my favorite way to wake up. In fact, alarm clocks usually make for a very bad day when they wake me up. Especially when the window ends up open and the alarm clock flies through it.

I gathered up my things as I muttered about evil whistles, blurry contacts, and forgotten ideas. I was finally able to step out into the isle of the train and fight the crowd out onto the platform. I was trying desperately hard to separate myself from the large group of travelers, as I was not a people person when I had just woken up, when I heard my name squealed from somewhere in front of me. I didn’t even have to look around before I was tackled by my wonderful friend. I stumbled for a few steps as I tried to regain balance, then started squealing back.

“Oh my God!” I squealed .

“Oh my God!” Maria squealed

“I can’t believe I’m here!” I squealed.

“I can’t believe you’re here, either!” she squealed.

“It’s been forever since I’ve seen you!” I squealed.

“I’ve missed you so much!” she squealed.

Amara stood a few feet away, attempting to get a word into the conversation, or squeal fest.

By the time we started jumping around and stopped making coherent thoughts, she was looking like she’d try to kill one of us. Amara was not a squealer.

“Let’s get your luggage, shall we?” Amara asked when we’d finally calmed ourselves down.

I settled into their guest room quickly, considering most of my stuff was in storage back at home until we were able to find me an apartment. I had decided not to have anything shipped until after I had somewhere to put it all.

Maria walked in as I dropped to lay on the bed.

"Tired, old friend?" she asked, leaning herself against the dresser.

"I just got off a three hour train ride. My ass is numb. I’m hungry. I need a shower. I am so nervous about this job. I need all to go shopping for the essentials. And I don’t look old, do I?" I ranted as I stared up at the ceiling.

"Well, jump in the shower first. Then we’ll go out for dinner and stop by the nearby Wal-mart. Then you can come back here and drop dead for the next ten hours."

"If I wasn’t so hungry, I’d just do the drop dead part," I said as I stood up. "Can I borrow some shampoo and conditioner?"

"Already in there," Maria said as I slumped past her into the guest bathroom. Nearly an hour later, after a long shower, drying my hair, and a searching my bags for my makeup, I was ready to go.

It didn’t take us too long to get caught up, as we’d kept in touch through email and blogs throughout the four years we had seen each other. We talked for a while, discussing the things we’d be doing that week and what we were all up to.

At some point through the meal, old college friends were brought up.

"Oh, Crystal, have you talked to any of your friends from State recently?" Maria asked, glancing across the room at the waiter. She had been trying to get his attention for ten minutes.

"Well, I saw Suzy about a month ago, and Kieome emailed me last week. I haven’t been in touch with anyone else. I feel so bad," I said, taking another bite of my huge chicken salad.

"What about the guys? Have you kept in touch with Kam or anyone?" Maria questioned.

"For a while after college, I would call Kam at least once a month. I lost touch with him, though, when I switched from land line to cell. I haven’t talked to Mike or Ryan at all since graduation. I miss them all. What about you all? Seen any of your old friends lately?" I asked back.

"Nope. It’s so sad how we all lose touch. I can just imagine walking down the road one day and seeing my old roommate. It would really shock me," Maria said.

"We did see Kim a few weeks ago, though. She popped in for the weekend," Amara said, finally getting tired of seeing Maria attempt to get the attention of the waiter. "Excuse me, Waiter?!" she yelled.

"Thanks, dear." Maria said.

"No problem, honey."

"Aww, so sweet," I replied to the spectacle before me. The waiter finally made his lazy way to our own precious table in the back, and Maria ordered us up a round of alcoholic beverages.

"Still no relationships, huh?" Maria asked with a laugh.

"Of course not. I’ve updated my mantra, though. It’s no longer boys suck. It’s men suck," I said, rolling my eyes with a smile.

"We know that," Amara laughed at me.

"Yea, but I’m straight," I laughed along with the two of them, and we continued to catch up. We paid the tab and left after sending that pesky waiter on a few more trips to the bar.

We went to Walmart after to pick up my things, then back to the apartment. I passed out a short while later.

At around two the next afternoon, I woke up. My body ached, my head pounded, my stomach churned. “Stupid alcohol. So damn tasty, but you screw me over every time,” I muttered. My robe and house shoes were laying on the dresser, so I slumped them on and shuffled into the kitchen.

"Are you finally awake, sleepy head?" Maria asked me, smiling at me from the kitchen sink, where she was washing dishes.

"Awake? I think I’m dead. Dead people don’t wake up." I sat down and started beating my already pounding head on the hardwood table.

"Drink too much?" Maria asked, as I heard the sink begin to run.

"Little. Always do that. Should stop," I said, not being able to bring myself into full sentences at that moment. A glass of water and two Tylenol were sat down in front of me. I looked up at them, then at Maria.

"Hey, I remember being taken care of by a certain red-haired best friend when I would get totally sloshed back in our party years. Now it’s my turn," Maria said, turning back to the dishes that she was washing.

I smiled at her, realizing just how much I’d missed her, and tried to gulp down the little devil pills and the water.

"Thanks, Ria," I replied. "Where’s Amara?"

"Work. She won’t be home until late. Double shift at the hospital. Something about a basketball team," Maria shrugged.

"Ah. Does that happen a lot?" I asked.

"Just when the Bulls play a game. It’s usually crazy, and she just recently got the job of on-sight doctor."

"Wow, she must meet a lot of hot men! Good thing she’s already married," I teased.

"Ha, ha. If you’re going to be like that, I’m not inviting you to the basketball game Amara got us tickets for." Maria started putting up her dishes.

"Basketball’s not my thing, remember?" I replied. Maria started laughing at me, realizing I was referring to the last basketball game I went to in college. I had gotten drunk, fallen down the bleachers, gotten hit with the basketball, was pulled onto the floor by my friend Kameron, and almost let it slip to my gorgeous seven foot tall crush that I was completely in love with him. It was a horrible night and I swore basketball off forever. I couldn’t even bring myself to watch the NCAA games every year.

"Oh, yea, I remember!" Maria said, laughing out loud, gaining herself an evil look from me. She was the one that had gotten me drunk that night. That was in our junior year, right after my twenty first birthday and just weeks before the elopement had taken place. She had developed a conspiracy with Kameron against me, and I’d never let her forget it. Or maybe she hadn’t let me forget it. I couldn’t decide; it was embarrassing for me, whichever way you wanted to look at it.

"Loser," was all I said as I stood up and made my way back to my room to fall on my temporary bed.

I fell back to sleep almost instantly. When I woke back up, my clock stated that it was nearly five or six in the evening. I walked back through the apartment, trying to find my friend. I couldn’t find her.

"Maria!" I whined. "Where are you?"

"Aww, is she awake now?" I heard her voice coming from a room near the back of the apartment.

"Yes, and she is hungry. What’s for dinner?" I asked, walking to the doorway of that room. "Hmm. Impressive," I stated when I saw that the room was set up like a small study. Her desk and computer were in one corner while her bookshelves and a large, comfortable looking chair were sitting beside a large window.

"Thanks. Want to go out somewhere? We can go to the diner down the road. It’s crazy cool." Maria spun around in her chair, looking at me with a smile.

"Let me put on some makeup and clothes. I’m freaking starved!" I turned and walked back into the guest room, closing the door to get ready. Five minutes later, I was ready to go.

"Are we taking a car? Catching a cab? Is there a bus?" I asked as we walked down the stairs.

"Ha, it’s only a few blocks down, Crys. We’re going to walk. Saves money."

I stopped on the last stair and looked at her. "Walk? Ria, dear, you do remember that I’m lazy, right? I don’t walk?" She turned and laughed at me.

"Come on, Crys! It’s just a few blocks. Wouldn’t kill you to get into shape." She grabbed my arm and began pulling me out the door.

"But my ex-boyfriend liked my pudginess!" I whined, following her lead. She laughed and we walked.

"Your ex-boyfriend isn’t your boyfriend anymore. He’s a loser. What was his name again? Elbert or something? All I remember is that it sounded dorky."

"His name was Elton. And you are walking entirely too fast! Out of shape, here!" I replied from my three or four steps behind her.

"Elton, pft! Sounds like he’s gay," Maria said, shaking her head and waiting for me to catch up.

"Elton was not gay. He was far from gay. He had four girlfriends other than me. He was by far the least gay boyfriend I’ve ever had," I replied as I stood in front of her.

"Who cares? He’s gone. Just another block or two to the diner. Do you think you’re going to make it?" Maria asked as she started walking again.

"Short legs suck," was my only response as I pouted behind her, my arms folded over my chest.

The diner was small, like a little mom and pops thing from Grease or something. The booths were bright red with white horizontal stripes. The overhead speakers were probably the only parts of the place that wasn’t actually right out of the sixties. The music, though, I believe I recognized to be "Johnny B. Goode." We played that in my high school marching band when I was still but a teen.

Maria was laughing at me singing along with the song when our waitress zoomed up on a pair of old school roller skates and wearing a poodle skirt and a pink sweater.

"Wut can I getch y’all?" the girl said. She couldn’t have been more than sixteen years old.

We ordered a couple of burgers and decided to share some fries, and also ordered a root beer float a piece. It only took about five or ten minutes to get the food back to us.

As we waited, we discussed the logistics of ice cream.

"Who do you think was the first person to ever think of putting ice cream in root beer?" I asked Maria, dipping my straw in and out of the tall mug.

"I’m not sure, but I bet it was a woman. Woman are so much smarter," she replied.

"I wouldn’t be so sure of that. Women are smarter, but I don’t think a woman would sit around putting ice cream in soda. I think a woman that smart would be using it for something a little more useful."

"Root beer floats are very useful!" Maria replied.

"You know what I mean. I wonder how many other soft drinks they tried out before they decided root beer was the right one."

"I’m not sure about that, either. I think other soft drinks would just be gross."

"They would, but if you don’t know, what are you going to do? They had to experiment, or we’d not have root beer floats, either."

"I guess you’re right there," Maria said, picking up her spoon for the ice creamy goodness.

"I think the person that created root beer floats should be given the Pulitzer Peace Prize." I laughed as the waitress passed by, giving us a very strange look.

"Pulitzer? Why not the presidency?" Maria asked, catching the giggling bug.

"Well, I’m willing to bet that the guy, or girl, is dead now. I wouldn’t want a dead president. That would be much worse than any we have now or have had in the past."

Maria stopped scooping her ice cream and looked at me through her lashes as her giggling subsided. "I wouldn’t be too sure of that," she said.

The waitress stopped at our table, saying, "Chaysebuh-guh, no onions, extra pih-ckles?" I raised my hand a little and she sat the masterpiece down in front of me. "I gue-us that makes this un yours, right?" Maria nodded, trying to keep the smile from her lips. "And your fries and the bill. If y’all need me, just holler, okay?" She turned and walked back to her post at the register.

We really tried not to burst out laughing at that moment, but I looked at Maria, and Maria looked at me. If we hadn’t looked at each other, we probably could’ve held it in. But we made that big, serious mistake, and couldn’t help but laugh for the next ten straight minutes.

I finally had to pee so bad that I was forced to leave the table, giving us ample time to calm down apart from one another. While in the restroom, I washed my face, because the tears streaked down my face would have set us both off once again.

We ate in silence, both knowing one word would cause us to laugh again. When we were done, we split the bill and left, hoping that the girl and other restaurant patrons would forget we were ever there.

"Wow. I thought our accents were bad," Maria said, giggling a little once again. "She was definitely a southern girl."

"Totally," I replied. "Good food, though. I haven’t had a good cheeseburger since college. I miss that food."

"It was pretty good back then. I think I may miss it a little, too. But Amara’s a pretty good cook."

"I think I wouldn’t know."

"Oooh, you know what? I’m craving watermelon!" Maria said, turning to look at me.

"Craving? Hah, you make it sound like you’re pregnant or something!" I laughed. At least, I laughed until I noticed that she wasn’t. "Maria? That’s funny right? Cravings aren’t specific to pregnancy."

"Well, I guess they could be."

"What do you mean they could be?!" my high pitched squeals were heard. "Maria Danielle Tudor Marcum! You’d best be explaining yourself, young lady, because that is not funny to do that to your best friend!" I blocked her path on the sidewalk and stood with my arms crossed and one foot tapping wildly on the pavement.

"Well, Auntie Crystal, it’s only seven months now. You’re the first to know!" Her face spread into a wide grin and I could tell that she was trying not to squeal.

So I started it for her. We squealed and we hopped and we hugged, right there in the middle of the Chicago sidewalk.

…

After dinner, we hung out and watched movies at the apartment. Amara finally came in at around midnight.

We heard the door unlock, and Maria yelled, "That you, baby?"

"No, it’s the serial killer that’s come to scalp you and cut your fingers into his salad," Amara replied, walking into the tv room.

"Rough day, dear?" Maria asked sympathetically.

"Those basketball players are hell to deal with. Such babies." Amara rolled her eyes. "Dahling, we need to discuss our special plan later. Some things have developed." I looked back and forth between the two girls, both known to be evil, and who were both smiling mischievously.

"I can’t help but think I’m missing something important," I said to no one in particular.

"You are," Amara replied. "But I’m beat. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, Crys."

Amara walked toward the back bedroom, leaving us to our movies, and my questions to the other Maria.

"What, pray tell, am I missing?" I asked sweetly, giving my best friend a glare.

"Oh, honey, don’t ask just yet. It’s complicated. We’ll get it all fixed up, then we’ll tell you. It’ll take a while, though. Be patient." She laughed when my eyes narrowed toward her.

"Why don’t I trust you?" I drawled with a sneer.

"Probably has something to do with that basketball game. You still don’t know everything that happened that night." She handed me the remote. "You can finish watching the movie, if you want. I’m beat. Night, wonderful, trusting friend!"

"I guess I’m headed off to bed, also. Night, mischievous, evil friend!" I replied.

Waking up the next morning was not nearly as hard. I had set my alarm clock for seven, because it was my first day on the job at the PR company. I was nervous. My stomach was bubbly with the butterflies. As I woke up, I realized I was wide awake. I jumped in the shower, dried and curled my hair, added a little light makeup, did all the other essential things in record time.

Unfortunately, I stood in front of my closet for a half an hour trying to figure out what I wanted to wear. I knew I should’ve laid out my outfit the night before, making it easier on myself and saving a lot of time. But that wouldn’t be characteristic of me, though. I’ve only laid out my outfits once or twice in my life, and it caused me even more frustration when I changed eight times the next morning.

Today, though, I only had three choices, so changing eight times was not an option. I had my blue and black pinstripe dress suit. I had my black and pink pinstripe pant suit. And I had my solid black pants and the black blazer with yellow lace. My black open toed heels would match any of them, and I had a shirt to match all of them.

"I can not believe I can’t choose between three outfits!" I cried as I stomped my left foot, already in the heels.

Amara knocked on my door. "Crys? You okay? I heard something fall."

"I’m just fine, except for my insanely indecisive personality!" I threw on a robe and opened the door for her. "Help?" I wimpered.

She laughed at me.

Five minutes later, we had chosen the blue and black pinstripe, and I was ready to leave. I walked through the hallway, expecting to get out of the apartment without returning to the bathroom. I checked my reflection in the mirror one last time.

No, I realized. I was not ready to go! My hair didn’t look right. Oh, well, back to the bathroom with the hair products!

Another half an hour later, I was finally on my way out. I didn’t allow myself even a glance into the mirror this time, for fear that I’d catch another glaring imperfection and have to go back.

I didn’t have to be there until ten for a quick orientation and training. I left at eight, in my little Chevy Geo that had been delivered the day before. Why so early, you ask? For the simple reasons that I can’t drive well, I get frazzled easily, and I do not know the roads of Chicago at all. You wouldn’t believe how much I hated driving.

My first stop sign was just a few feet away. I stopped. I looked around. I sighed. All was well so far. I snail crawled forward for another few feet, until my next stop sign. "Okay," I said to myself. "So far, so good. I can up the speed to twenty miles per hour."

And so I did. I stopped at the next stop sign, and turned left, as the instructions indicated. The next two stop signs also went well. I felt comfortable and was able to calm myself enough to drive like a normal, nearly sane person. The next stop sign was okay, also. At least until the guy behind me decided not to stop.

My car was pushed forward a few feet, jerking my head down onto the steering wheel. The car also twisted a little, causing my car to face the left of where it originally was sitting.

"Oh, geez. Oh, geez. Oh, geez, no!" I could not believe that the worst had really just happened. I was being safe, damn it! I was not speeding. I did not stop suddenly! Why, oh, why, oh, why today of all days?! My brain was screaming all of these thoughts as I tried desperately to catch my breath.

This was the first wreck I’d ever had while driving. I was not in the position emotionally or psychologically for a wreck, even if it is not serious.

I finally convinced my lungs that the air I was trying to fill it with was not poisonous, and I also promised myself that I was not going to start crying. I pried my fingers from the steering wheel, then took a deep, calming breath as I opened my drivers side car door.

"I will not cry. I will not freak out. I will stay calm," I said as I stepped out in my four inch heels.

The guy must have jumped from his 2003 Jaguar XKR immediately, because he was already running his fingers across my bumper from his squatted position between the two cars. He looked up at me when he noticed I had gotten out of the car, and smiled.

"It looks like minimal damage. I am so sorry," he rushed out of his mouth, standing to his full height. My brain stopped at that moment. My mouth dropped open. This guy was taller than the sky. I haven’t seen anyone so tall since Mike and Kameron in college. This guy was huge! His eyes, though worried at the moment, and a little bit panicked, were green, with touches of brown slipped in at intricate spots. His hair was wavy and just long enough to lay over his eyes perfectly. The thing that got me the most was the fact that the hair was blond. I had always been quite impressed with blonds. His complexion was fairly dark. He had a great tan that just matched with his hair. He had two beautiful dimples when his perfectly pouty lips curled upwards. He was completely gorgeous, and had the muscles to compare. His arms weren’t huge, nor was his chest, but you could see the muscles through his large sweater. His dark colored blue jeans also looked very nice, if you get my picture. Wow, I thought to myself, did I wish I could have pictures…

And why exactly did he look so familiar to me?

"Are you okay?" he asked me when he realized I wasn‘t going to say anything in just that moment. "I really am sorry; this is all my fault. I should’ve been watching, but I was in a rush to get to practice. My coach is going to kill me! By the way, my name is J.L. Brown." He looked to me again, holding his hand out for me to shake it.

The car, the wreck, my job- it was all flew out the window like a mockingbird.

"How tall are you?" I asked in amazement.

The guy laughed, causing me to snap out of my reverie. "I’m six eight. Why, am I tall?" he asked.

"Just a little. I haven’t seen someone as tall as you since college," I said, smiling. "Now, gosh, we just had a little accident. I shouldn’t be asking questions about your height. Sorry. My name‘s Crystal Roberts," I said, laughed at my own ditzy nature.

"Yea, the damage doesn’t look bad. A few scratches. Your back bumper may need to be replaced. I am really sorry. It was all my fault, so I’ll pay for all the damages. We public figures can’t have law suits running around. You’re not hurt, are you?"

"No, I’m fine," I said, shaking my head and looking at my car. Wait, I snapped my head back up to eye him. Did he just say… "Public figure? Why exactly do you look so familiar to me? I need to know if I was hit by a famous celebrity. Might need you to sign my car or something," I smiled up at him, craning my neck entirely back.

"Hah, some say I’m a celebrity. Are you sure you’re okay, first, though? I mean, you’re getting a pretty big bump on your head. Looks like it’s about to turn blue, too." He leaned over to touch it, but I backed away as soon as his fingers made contact.

"Ouch. I do have a little bit of a pain in the head. I think it’s where I hit my head on the steering wheel a few minutes ago,” I frowned as I touched my forehead.

He laughed. "Yea, I think that’d do it."

"Could’ve. Now, tell me why you look so familiar. What celebrity are you? I know you’re not Tom Cruise. He’s not that tall, even if you are as hot as him."

"Well, do you watch basketball?" he asked, flirting along with me.

"No, not really. Not since I was in college. Is that horrible?" I asked, grimacing a little.

"Not horrible, although I can’t imagine my life without basketball. I wouldn’t have this sweet car, or a job," he said, looking over to the car, then back to me with a smirk.

"Oh, let me guess, are you a famous basketball player?" I asked. I was hiding my excitement well. Basketball players were always my biggest crushes in high school and college.

"Yes, can you guess what team now?" he asked, testing my intelligence.

I played along, though. "Hmm. Let me see. Could it be, since we are in Chicago, the Bulls?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Good, at least you know your teams. I wouldn’t be able to talk to you if you didn’t. Anyway, I have to be getting to practice. Can I have your number or something so I can get a hold of you later? You know, to pay for that bumper?"

"Yea, because that bumper, it’s going to cost a lot, and you’d better pay for it." I tried to say that seriously, but I couldn’t help but laugh at the end.

"Well, if it’s that important, then we’re going to have to get together immediately to work this out. How about tonight at eight?" He smiled like he knew I’d say yes.

He’s a smart guy. "That is an excellent idea." I gave him the address and number to the apartment before saying goodbye and started my trek to work again.

It took only a few minutes from there, now that I was thinking about something, or someone, other than the road. That had to have been the best wreck anyone had ever been in!

I finally made it to work, safely, although I was still a little freaked. I parked in the parking garage, thinking to myself, "Oh my gosh, I now work at a place that has their own parking garage!" As I was still an hour early, I called Maria on my cell.

"Hello, Reeves Residence," she answered, sounding still groggy.

"Maria, oh my gosh! I was in a wreck!" I said immediately. I waited for a second for her to wake up, taking it to prepare for her reaction.

"What?! A wreck?! Oh, wow! Are you okay? Is the car okay? Is the other guy hurt? What am I saying, you were in your Geo, of course the other guy’s not hurt!"

"Maria, it’s okay; seriously, calm down. I’m okay, except for a nasty bruise on my forehead, and the car is just going to have to have the bumper replaced. The other guy, who I have a date with tonight, is going to pay for all the damages, and it was the best wreck of my life!" I said, squealing a little at the end.

"Date? With someone you were in a wreck with? Only you, Crys, only you," she said. I heard her laughing over the phone.

"Yes, a date. See, I stopped at the stop sign, and the guy behind me didn’t. It spun my car and I hit my head on the steering wheel. It hurt like a mo-fo, I’m telling you. Then I got out and was dumfounded when I saw this like, fifty foot guy standing at my bumper." I paused, waiting for a reaction, but all I heard was laughter.

"So, okay, he wasn’t fifty feet tall. He was six eight, but, hey, that’s tall. Apparently, his name is JL Brown, and he plays basketball for the Chicago Bulls. Oh, my God, Maria, you should’ve seen this guy’s car! It was hot! I mean, it was a Jaguar, that’s how hot it was!"

"A Jag? Impressive." She yawned. "I think I approve of this guy."

"He was impressive. Gorgeously impressive. You’ll have to pick out an outfit for me to wear tonight. I’ll go crazy if I have to make a decision like that." I head Maria giggle a little more at that.

"Okay, I’ll pick out something incredibly cute and stylish for you, and I’ll have it ready by the time you get off work."

"Good. Oh, gosh, Maria, I haven’t dealt with an athlete since college. That’s never good for me. Do you think this is really stupid?" I asked, getting worried. Athletes tend to force me to become out of hand, even for Maria and Amara.

"Oh, I think it’ll be just fine. I’ll have to stay up pretty late tonight to wait for you to come in, won’t I?" Maria asked.

"Of course. Well, I’m going to try to figure out where I’m going and what I’m doing here, and I’ll call you later to give you the juicy details of my first day on the job!" I said, opening my car door.

"Okay. I’m going back to sleep now. Talk to you later." She hung up the phone.

I took a deep, jittery breath and stepped out onto the pavement. I made sure to lock my car door and grab my purse, then made my way across the garage to the nice elevator I had seen driving in.

I was not calmed by the lone sound of my clickity clacking heels, though I normally love to hear them. I was not calmed by the emptiness that was this insanely large garage, because it intimidated me to no end. I was also not calmed by the blasting thoughts that my brain was pounding through my head. I was so nervous. Good thing I didn’t eat breakfast, I thought as the elevator doors opened and I stepped inside.

The sound system was playing a concerto by Bach. I remembered it from high school band, but I couldn’t remember the name exactly. I hit the button for the fifth floor, where I was supposed to go straight down the hall, past the secretary’s desk, through the third door on the right, to meet Ms. Alexis Grey.

The door opened on the fifth floor of the over twenty floor office building, and I looked out. I took two deep breaths, then stepped out of the large metal box with as much confidence as my gentle soul could muster. I started straight down the hall. That seemed obvious, seeing as how there were no turns, doors, or anything. The walls were a brilliant blue color. I smiled, thinking how gorgeous it was, even under the harsh fluorescent lights that were beating down from over my head. Not very far down this corridor was the little alcove that housed the secretary’s desk. I continued walking past the middle-aged brunette woman as if I belonged there.

At this point, I was glad that I had on the clickity clacking heels, because they gave me the confidence to act like I belonged here.

"Excuse me, miss? You can’t go back there!" the secretary announced to my back.

Darn. Busted. I turned back, smiling. "Oh, I’m sorry; I was told to go straight to Ms. Grey’s office. I’m her new intern," I said, holding one hand over my heart and the other stretching toward her. The woman was wearing a yellow sweater that clashed with her pale complexion, and deep navy pants and shoes. I tried not to sneer a little, but failed, as she looked down at her itinerary, and I noticed that the roots of her hair were grayed.

"Ms. Grey? Oh, yes, she did mention that a new intern would be coming in today. I’m sorry for the misunderstanding. I still need you to wear a name tag and get a security pass a little later. It’s a rule around here, and rules mustn’t be broken, you know." The lady smiled, looking older than she had only moments before. She almost seemed like someone’s sweet old grandmother, except for the obviously colored hair, bad fashion sense, and even worse attempt at a face lift.

"I will do that just as soon as I can get a moment free. Right now, though, Ms. Grey is expecting me, so am I free to go in?" I smiled, hoping that the old woman got the point that I was not going to be killing anyone without my security pass.

"I guess so, Dearie. But if you come through here again, I’ll need to see that pass," she said with her lips pursed. She busied herself with the papers, pretending the nuisance had disappeared.

I rolled my eyes and continued along this trek. I began counting the doors on the right. One was easily seen, two was right around the corner, and three was right on the end of the corridor.

I took another couple of deep breaths as I stood to the side of the door. I gathered all my courage and knocked.

"Come in!" a voice called from inside. I opened the door, and walked in. A petite woman, about thirty five, was sitting at the desk located in front of a very large window. She had blond hair, a darker complexion than I had, and what looked to be blue eyes.

"Ms. Grey? Hi. I’m Crystal Roberts, your new intern? I hope I’m not interrupting you or anything," I said, noticing she hadn’t even looked up from her own rattling papers and computer desk.

"Oh, Crystal, yes. Could you hold on one second?" she asked, finally looking up. "Have a seat; I’m just finishing this report for the Instinct Corporation."

"Oh, okay. Take your time," I stated, having a seat like she had asked. I was shaking, I noticed, as I sat there. I hated being nervous, but I couldn’t stop it. I took a deep breath, yet again.

I looked around the office, trying to calm myself as she finished up her work. The pictures on the wall were in beautiful golden picture frames. One picture was of herself with a man that looked to be about the same age as the she was in the picture, but it looked to have been taken when they were still around the teenage years or early twenties. Another picture looked like the same two people, the man in a tuxedo and herself in a beautiful, full wedding dress. Other pictures included one of an older couple, which I assumed were her parents, and one of the older couple, the younger couple, and another couple, looking a few years younger.

There were also pictures of Ms. Grey with company heads from her numerous clients with Cascade Corp. I noticed one was with Arnold Swartzeneggar. Wow, I thought.

"Okay. All done. Sorry about that," Ms. Grey said, snapping me back to reality.

"Oh, that’s quite alright. I’m early; really all my fault," I said, smiling.

"Early is better than late any day," she said. "I like my employees to be early. It’s a good personality trait that all employers will appreciate."

"Well, I’m glad you like that," I laughed. "So, what should I know exactly about my job. Important duties and the such?" I asked, clasping my hands together in my lap.

"Oh, you’ll just be doing errands and things, mostly. You’ll be accompanying me to my meetings, taking notes, running for copies, and other things like that." She smiled at me.

"Well, that doesn’t seem too hard. I think I can deal with that."

"Oh, dear, I know you can. I saw your resume, remember? Very impressive," she said.

I blushed as I said, "Oh, I guess it was. Really, I was so glad to get this job. I looked into the companies you’ve worked with, and that’s a much more impressive resume than mine could ever be."

She laughed. "Well, I guess we’re both impressive, then. Shall we get to work?" I nodded enthusiastically. "Okay. First, I want you to read over this report that’s printing, and here’s a red ink pen. Grammar and spelling can sometimes skip its way over the computer and I’m horrible at both. You see that little door right off to the side? That’s going to be your office." She pointed toward a door on the right side of the room.

I stood and walked to the door. My own office? I didn’t know that was part of the job!

“My own office?” I asked. “I wasn’t expecting that!” I tried to hide my enthusiasm, but Ms. Gray saw right past it and snickered a little as I went inside the door.

I sat at the desk, reading the report. The room was empty, except for a desk and a cabinet. It was a lot smaller than Alexis’ office, but it was still my office.

I looked around for a moment, then went back to the report. A few lines down, I looked around again. I tried to concentrate, but the excitement of actually having my own office was causing that to be an incredibly difficult task.

After about half an hour, I finally got through the report the first time. I had a few marks, grammar-wise, and a few spelling corrections, as well. I decided to try to read through it again, to find the ones I missed. The second time only took about fifteen minutes. There were quite a few more marks.

I stood up and walked over to the door adjoining my office to Ms. Grey’s. I knocked, hoping I wasn’t interrupting anything.

"Come on in!" she called. I did what she said.

"I finished reading over the report. I found a few errors, but everything else was great," I said, smiling as I laid the report down on her desk.

She said thanks, then gave me a few more errand running jobs. As I was leaving to do those jobs, I decided that the security pass would have to be gotten in the next few minutes.

As I stood in the line at the administrative office on the bottom floor, I tried to pretend that I wasn’t having the best day of my life. I put on an exasperated face and stood like I was being impatient. That’s how your supposed to stand in a line; if you don’t, they think you’re weird and won’t assist you.

The line wasn’t long. Only three people were in front of me. It took less than five minutes to have my security badge made up, but I did make sure to pretend I was annoyed.

The lady making the badge did her best to look annoyed, too. She snapped at me before I even said hello. People that deal with people on a daily basis are so cranky, I thought to myself as I took a seat to have my picture snapped. I smiled, but she told me not to. I stopped smile, and she snapped at me for looking like this was an inconvenience. I finally just said, "Gosh, no need to be so angry. My boss is waiting for me to get back; could we just take the picture?"

She raised an eyebrow, but snapped the picture as I was rolling my eyes.

Of course, I should’ve known. She was waiting until the most awkward moment to take the picture. What else? People that work with people on a daily basis are just evil, I thought as I looked at the picture afterward.

"Thanks," I said with sarcasm before leaving.

The day flew from then on. I went about town, doing small errands, like getting Alexis’ dry cleaning and picking up some things for her at the local pharmacy. Going back upstairs, I found the badge and clipped it to my jacket. The lady started to stop me, but I flashed the badge and she smiled her old lady smile.

It was only four thirty when Alexis told me she wouldn’t need anything else from me. I bounced out into the parking lot, feeling like the day was the most accomplished day I’d had since college.

I made it back home without any damage done to my car or my person, thankfully. I was still in shock about the wreck as I stood behind my car shaking my head. I double checked to see that the doors were locked and went into the building.

My key, my brand new key, fit into the hole in the door of the apartment I was a guest in perfectly. That made me very happy, also. I was starting a whole new life with old friends and a new town, a new job, a new boyfriend, even a possible new car. This was so crazy that my euphoria level was about to burst through my feet.

I opened the door and walked in, closing and locking it behind me. I saw containers on the kitchen table, which was visible from the front door, through a large arch off to the left side of the foyer. I walked through and saw Maria looking into the refrigerator.

"What’s up, Maria-chan?" I asked, smiling as I laid my purse and jacket on the counter. In junior high, Maria had a small, well, large, obsession with the Japanese language and culture, and being a close friend, I had picked up on quite a bit of it. Through the years, she’d calmed it, but was still very much into dropping a few foreign words and phrases every once in a while. We had always planned on a trip to Japan, but neither of us had ever

"Amara was supposed to be home tonight, but she can’t make it. Double shift, again," Maria looked up from the refrigerator and gave me this look that nearly broke my heart.

"Aw, Maria. You’ll be all alone tonight!" I cried, looking at all the food laid out on the table, probably waiting on a cancelled date with a wife. "Do you want me to stay home? That is Chinese, isn’t it?" I eyed the General Tsao’s Chicken. It was my absolute favorite, and I couldn’t bring myself to pass it up, even if it was in the place of a hugely tall, gorgeously built hunk of a basketball player.

"You can’t stay at home! You have a boy! A basketball boy!" Maria replied, crossing her arms in protest and giving me a death glare.

"I’ll reschedule, no big deal," I said. "No one is more important than my best friend!" I paused. “And, you know, nothing is ever going to be more important than Chinese. . .”

She rolled her eyes at me, then replied, "Oh, I know. What if we invite him over here. He can eat Chinese with us, and I can make sure that I approve of him first!" She knew I was far too stubborn to allow her to stay home all alone.

An hour later, J.L. was sitting on the sofa with Maria and I on either side of him. Maria, too, had first reveled in his height as soon as she had opened the door.

He had called only minutes after Maria and I had decided that I would stay, and I had explained the situation to him. Of course, he said he understood completely, and said that if one of his teammates was depressed, he’d invite them along on whatever he was doing, also.

While we were on the phone, we decided that we’d all watch a movie, which he said he’d pick up and bring over to us. When he got there, we attacked the food, so we could do a little chatting before the movie. When Maria started asking him for his "stats", I decided it was time to watch the movie instead of talk. I liked this guy, but I wasn’t sure yet if I liked him enough to listen to basketball talk for him. I did enough of that in college, and it didn’t get me anywhere!

Time passed quickly, at least for me, because I fell asleep right after we started the movie. I vaguely heard laughter in the background as I snuggled closer to the warm couch cushion, then suddenly felt something wet over my head.

I screamed. "WHAT THE HECK?!" I said, bolting upright from where I was laying on the couch.

"You were asleep," Maria giggled uncontrollably, then innocently said, "We didn’t know how else to wake you up."

J.L. was grinning like a mad man, too, as I glared at him.

"Nice way to end a first date, basketball boy," I said, noticing the clock said it was nearly midnight.

"You slept through it!" he replied. Maria continued giggling as she left the room, headed, I suppose, to her bedroom to give us our "date space," as she often referred to it in college.

"Sorry. I’ve had one of those days," I said. "Let’s see, I started a new job, I got into a car accident, my best friend got stood up by her girl, and I met a great guy. It’s been hectic."

He smiled down at me. "Well, I was late for ball practice, ran into a beautiful girl, literally, got mobbed by a bunch of teenyboppers, and found out I was benched for the next game. It’s been hectic on this side, too."

"Maybe next time, I’ll stay awake," I said, walking him to the door.

"Yea, maybe. I’ll call you, okay?" he said, winking before he walked out.

"Sooooo," I heard someone say from behind a wall. Apparently, Maria had not went to her room.

"Sooooo?" I replied, walking back to where she was.

"What’s the verdict?" she asked, grabbing my arm.

"I don’t know, yet, Maria. We’ve just had one date. And I slept through it. Who’s to say that he’ll ever call me again?" I asked. "It’s late, and I have work tomorrow. I need some sleep." I walked into my room and shut the door in her face.

Honestly, I thought as I pulled on some night clothes, I don’t think I was feeling the guy. All in all, I think we were more suited to be friends, and not close personal bed buddies. Or anything else of the sort.

Plus, he reminded me a little too much of Mike.

I sighed, as I started to think about Mike. I had never really gotten over that crush. He was on my college’s basketball team, and was a little taller than this guy. He was a model for some high end magazine before he even graduated high school, and was one of the greatest guys I had ever met. I liked him throughout all four years we were in the same school, even traveling with the basketball team so I could cheer him on at the away games. From the minute I first saw him during my orientation, I had fallen so deeply in crush with him.

I had lost touch with him and his roommate, Kameron, after only a year, but I knew that anytime I saw a white basketball player, I would automatically think of Mike.

I sighed once again as I drifted off to sleep, dreaming of that boy like I had almost every night since I had met him.

I woke the next morning to a screeching alarm clock. The clock soon found its way under my bed. That early in the morning, I didn’t like loud noises. I wasn’t a morning person, as I’ve mentioned before. The lack of thought caused me to forget how to make the absurd contraption shut the heck up, so I gave in each morning to throw it somewhere that the sound wouldn’t be as annoying.

In college, I went through four a semester when I took to throwing the things out the seventh story window.

I stumbled to my closet after taking care of the evil noisemaker and grabbed my green blouse and a pair of white dress pants. My stilettos were still packed, so I emptied my entire suitcase onto my bed, then left the mess to pick up later that night. I jumped into the shower and pulled on the clothes within a record time. I pulled my hair back into a loose ponytail, applied my makeup, and deodorized before grabbing my bag and walking out the door. I checked my watch, seeing that I’d made it out in half an hour.

I felt like crap. My entire head was pounding, though I wasn’t sure why, and I was tired as heck. There was no way that today would be a productive day, I thought to myself as I pulled my car out of its parking spot. I made it to work without incident, thankfully, and then pulled into the parking garage. My excitement over the building had subsided. Now, all I could think was how much I hated how dark and unhappy it looked. My parking spot was far too far away from the elevators, and it was cold. That place sucked, I decided, pushing the button for the elevator.

Alexis didn’t give me much work for the day. A few errands around noon so I could catch lunch out, and three reports to read over. She let me go around five, seeing that I’d been sitting there for an hour without anything to do. The woman was so organized that she was able to finish everything herself. I don’t think she really needed an assistant, but I was sure glad I was the one they picked.

I got home around five thirty, ready to collapse into my bathtub with a martini. My mind had been almost worshipping that idea since noon. As soon as I walked in, though, Maria went on a rant about how I had only an hour to get ready and my clothes were already laid out and I should hurry.

I looked at her like she was crazy as I leaned against the wall. "What on earth are you talking about, woman?" I squinted at her.

"The game is tonight. You have to get ready. We’re going to be late. Hurry!" she cried. I didn’t budge. "Come on, Crys! Amara got us tickets to the Bulls’ game. We have to go. You have to look cute. We’re leaving in half an hour. Get dressed!"

"Basketball?" I asked, raising one eyebrow, assuming she would get my point.

"You are not refusing to go to this game. That was our junior year! That was a long time ago. You’re going to have fun tonight! I promise!" I still didn’t budge. Maria grabbed my hand, shoved me into my room, and said, "No food until you get ready!"

I began to get dressed.

An hour later, we were walking down the bleacher steps of the Bulls’ game. Maria was still dragging me by my arm, and I kept grumbling about beer and basketball.

She pushed me down in a seat, courtside, and sat next to me. "If you shut up and try to have fun, I’ll buy you a basketball player," she said, trying to bribe me.

"Whichever one I want?" I asked, pouting.

"Whichever one you want," she replied with a smile. "Do we have a deal?"

"Deal. But you have to get the one that I want. And it doesn’t necessarily have to be on this team," I said, shaking her outstretched hand.

"Oh, trust me, I have a feeling it will be." I looked over at my best friend, trying to figure out why she had begun giggling again. It was odd, and a little scary.

At that moment, though, the basketball team started rushing onto the court. I saw JL at the very back, still in his warm-ups. I remembered that he’d told us he’d been benched. I couldn’t help but wonder why now.

I didn’t get to wonder long, as I happily scanned the rest of the team to see which one I would be asking for later that night.

I glanced over to Maria as I realized what all the plotting and secrets and evil giggles had been about. "You…" I gasped for breath.

"Yes?" she asked in an innocent voice.

"You absolute witch." I said, pouting again for a completely different reason.

"Aw, such a sweet compliment, Crys!" she said. "So, have you decided which one you’re going to want?"

"I am not speaking to you," I replied, turning my head back to the court.

Right there in my sight, on the court, now doing a lay-up, was that same college crush that I had not been in touch with in almost four years. Mike. Tall as ever. Bouncing a basketball, like never before. And he looked gorgeous. Just the same as he did way back in the day.

And it broke my heart to see him out there, bouncing that basketball.

“Are you going to speak to me at all tonight?” Maria asked.

“I’m not sure at this point. This was very mean.”