The Girl in the Elevator (ONC 2022)

12. Dimple of Cheek

Three weeks later, Sam strolled into a building. He walked confidently, his new suit and tie crisp and clean, his shoes buffed to a perfect shine, and his hair carefully combed and slicked back. He'd double and triple-checked to make sure he hadn't forgotten something this time. He even asked his Gran to check him over, and after telling him his shirt was inside out and he'd forgotten to do up one of the middle buttons, she kicked him out of the house.

Not that Sam minded. He appreciated her input a lot.

Today was important, you see. He had a job interview. And he wanted to make the best possible impression he could. Gran always said she appreciated a smartly dressed man, so Sam figured that was the way to go. So he'd made sure to get up at three this morning to make sure he had lots of time to get ready, and now here he was, seven thirty-two sharp.

He ran out of time to have breakfast, but that was okay. Being on time was important – after all, that was how he got fired from his last job.

He went to the reception desk, and smiled at the kindly woman there. She had gray curls and smiling eyes, and it made him think of the librarian he hung out with when he was kid. His grandmother would leave him at the library most afternoons to "get educated", but Sam mostly just followed the nice librarian around because she gave him caramel candy to suck on.

This lady had a nametag pinned to her lapel that read Lydia. Sam read it carefully, doing his best to remember it. People didn't like when you constantly had to ask what their name was. (He conveniently forgot that the nametag was there for a reason, but let's give him points for effort.)

Lydia gave a warm smile. "How can I help you, dear?"

"I'm here for an interview," Sam informed her. "With Doug and Lucy at the bakery shop."

"You are?" Surprise flickered over Lydia's expression. She looked him up and down and her eyes twinkled. "Well then, my dear. You'll want to go up the eighth floor. The shop is just to the right. You can't miss it."

"Thank you." Sam thought she was just as nice as the librarian. Well, almost as nice. Lydia hadn't offered him any candy.

He hurried to the other side of the room, where the elevators were. It'd taken him a lot of time and effort, but he was sure that he'd gotten over his fear of elevators. Ever since the Commandoes had brought him back home, Sam hadn't seen them or any strange aliens. There was no sign of strange things, and so life had settled back into normalcy.

Like Tea had promised, the aliens were gone. And Sam hadn't brought them up, either. Not even to his grandmother. Some secrets were meant to be kept, and aliens were one such example.

The only remnant Sam had of his day at the spa was the half-healed scar on his chest. He still didn't know where it came from, or even if what Tea said was true. Either way, Sam didn't feel any different, so he was probably fine.

Besides, he had new and better things to look forward to. Like this ride in the elevator that would take him to his (hopefully) new job.

Sam pushed the button and waited, bouncing lightly on his heels. This building was only 10 floors high, so he didn't have to wait very long. With a gentle ding, the elevator arrived at the lobby floor. The doors slid open. And Sam, smiling brilliantly, took a one step towards the welcoming elevator car.

He stopped. His smile faltered.

Then he stepped back.

"Oh," said the pretty girl in the elevator. "I'm sorry. Weren't you coming on?"

Sam shook his head side to side. This girl looked harmless, with her round glasses and long brown braid draped over a shoulder, but nope. No way. Elevators were one thing. But when they came with a girl in it, Sam drew the line.

Without responding, he turned and ran for the stairs. He charged up two flights, heart pounding, before the adrenaline began to fade. He slowed, grasping onto the railing, and panted for breath.

It's only eight floors, he told himself. If he had to climb eight flights of stairs twice a day, it wasn't so bad. Right?

He groaned, sagging against the rail.

"Are you okay?" The soft voice came from above.

Sam lifted his head. Peering down at him from the next flight up was a young woman. Her round cheeks were dimpled in a smile, her brown eyes twinkled like a sea of stars. A little taken aback, he opened his mouth and failed to make a sound. Those little dents in those soft cheeks were – he had no words. He stared at them, awed.

"It's tiring," she said, "but I take the stairs every day. It's better than standing around in an elevator, you know?" She gave a little laugh, a bubbly sound that reached directly into Sam's chest and tickled at his heart.

A goofy grin spread across his face. "Yeah," he said. "I hate elevators."

He didn't think it was possible, but her face brightened even more. "What floor do you need to go to? I'm on the ninth."

"Eighth. I have a job interview at the bakery." Sam resumed climbing up the stairs, hurrying to catch up with her. She waited for him, the dimples deepening in her cheeks.

"That's great! Then let's climb together."

Sam didn't need to be asked twice. He already knew that he liked the girl on the stairs a whole lot more than the terrifying girl in the elevator.

END