The Silicon Valley Connection

13 | faith - moving forward

I finally give in to the third time my snooze alarm goes off, and my eyes squint at the bright blue light.

5:08 a.m. Ugh. Too early for this.

An email from Wayfinder Tech HQ and a missed text from Aidan glow brightly on my lock screen.

SUBJECT: WAYFINDER TECH CHALLENGE

Good morning future innovators! We have a little outreach initiative for you to participate in called "Pay It Forward." Be on the lookout for further information in the coming hours. Study hard!

All the best,

Stacy Brentwood (she/her)

Wayfinder Technologies | Chief Technical Officer

I exit my email and open up my messages.

AIDAN: morning! I hope you are feeling a bit better after yesterday. blood may be thicker than water, but I've noticed the way Marcus cares about you, and if it means putting my own sibling in his place, then that's what must be done.

FAITH: yeah, I'm doing better, thanks. also, I'm sorry you had to hear and witness that. I'm surprised that you didn't just brush it off.

AIDAN: now why would I do that?

FAITH: I...I honestly don't know.

But I did know. And its cause: Reid Paxton.

AIDAN: well, if you don't know, then I don't know.

FAITH: ...fair point. just FYI, you're the only other person besides Marcus that I talked to about that incident.

AIDAN: your parents weren't in the loop?

FAITH: I never got the chance to tell them myself. the administration called them on my behalf, right as I was calling their number. I still don't know what the principal said to this day, seeing as they kind of blamed me in the beginning, but our relationship is pretty much patched up as of now.

AIDAN: that's good that you were able to work things out with your parents despite the messed-up actions of the admin. also, I have a question.

FAITH: and I may have an answer.

AIDAN: how do you feel about developing a MHC word just between the two of us?

I nearly hit my head on the planks above me after jolting to a sitting position, intrigued. My purple bonnet slides off at the sliding contact it makes with the bunk above me and my two loose braids unfurl onto my back.

FAITH: MHC word? mind explaining that?

AIDAN: sure thing. gimme a min.

Indeed a minute later, Aidan's caller ID pops up on my phone. Not expecting a FaceTime call, I roll out of bed, throwing on a jacket over my tee and shorts and shoving my feet into my rainbow checkered Vans. I throw a quick glance at the mirror while brushing my teeth for the morning. After five minutes of detangling my hair from the braids, I shake it out, and after massaging coconut oil into my scalp and grabbing the hair bands to slide them on my wrists, I yank my door open to find Aidan in a grey tracksuit across the hall. When he finally meets my eyes, his hands and phone disappear into his pockets, and he gives me a small smile and wave, with only one of his dimples visible.

"Looks like we had the same idea, not wanting to wake our roommates." He nods to the stairwell ahead of us. "I'm assuming you're going to the rooftop too?"

aidan

Tapping my ID on the scanner, I let her go first before I follow behind and cautiously take a seat next to her in a hammock.

She rolls her eyes, clearly not amused by my humor. "You were saying?"

"Right. A MHC word is just a little something that was developed between my mother and me. MHC stands for mental health check, and it's when someone would give another person a word of their choice when a thought or action of someone or something triggers an unpleasant memory, and the anxiety levels rise higher than what is deemed 'normal' for that person."

I take a deep gulp. "For instance, my MHC word was 'phantom.'"

Her eyes remain intently on mine, with no abrupt reactions. So, I continue. "The 'effector'--the person who says the word, would then need assistance from the 'receiver'--the one who is the support system to anything they need to de-escalate the feeling. The roles are not always limited to the same person. It varies based on the situation." I pause and sigh. "...and now I feel like I've rambled on too much," I mutter, slouching back into the hammock and covering my face with my hands.

Weight shifts in the hanging bed as her hips settle on top of mine. "Well, I think," she gently pries my fingers away, "that's probably the best idea I've heard in a long time, so, thank you."

Marc is probably--no, definitely gonna lecture me on not eating, especially before early preseason practice. Still, I don't regret skipping breakfast this one morning to brush my teeth instead. Because I want to kiss her. Right now.

And spill every broken part of me. But the iron gates at my consciousness stay dead-bolted. After a minute, my voice finally gets its shit together, and I'm able to croak out, "So, do you have a word in mind?"

Her melodic laugh pulls at heartstrings I didn't even realize I could have, considering how it has been shattered for two years. But there's the fact that I'm starting to realize that the woman in front of me is putting the pieces back together.

Her small, content sigh and voice bring me back to the present. "I was hoping to have a bit more time to mull it over, but..." her eyes look past my shoulders and over to the dimming city night lights behind me, "I've always liked the word 'eclipse.'"

Faith's eyes trail down to her fingers, which have begun to trace tiny figure eights on her palms once more--a small habit I've noticed is like her hair twisting and re-twisting.

"I don't know if it's just the space geek in me talking, but I guess I just like the way it sounds."

Eclipse. It's perfect and fits this moment too. Her raven black curls were positioned perfectly in front of the rising sun, creating her own solar eclipse--a ring of pure, illuminating light, amplifying her goddess aura.

Fuck it. The worst that can happen is that I get rejected, which won't even surprise me if it even got to that point.

faith

Less than a minute later, a hand caresses the back of my neck, gently pulling me towards their chest and the potent scent of spearmint takes over my nasal senses. I can't tell if it's from Aidan's sudden lips on mine or from me returning it.

Maybe it's both of us.

Wait. Aidan-freaking-Lim-slash-Brentwood is kissing me. And I like it, even though my mind is telling me not to...clear as the rising sun.

Even if there's no tongue, no spice. It's just a perfect, time-standing kiss.

He pulls away, his eyes filled with something I have yet to uncover. Longing? Realization? Then both of his dimples return with a smile that just might have made my knees like jello. It's always the little things.

Faith: 1, Aidan: 3

He deserves that. Because. Best. Sunrise. Ever.