star stuff

six

I can't say that I'm not a little disappointed when I see Emma and not Sagan getting out of the elevator. He hasn't been here all day and it's put me on edge.

Emma tosses a carton of Chinese takeout onto my desk, followed by a pair of chopsticks. Pulling a chair up, she sits and takes out her own carton.

"It's from Golden Dragon. I've never been there, but my friend recommended it to me. I hope you like chow mein."

"Thanks," I mutter, not accustomed to pleasantries. "Why are you giving this to me?"

"What, you don't think I'm doing this out of the kindness of my heart?"

I give her a cold stare. No gift comes for free.

She sighs, shaking her head in defeat. "Sagan's at a meeting, and he told me to bring you food because he knew you would work straight through your dinner break if he wasn't there to stop you. Honestly, Juno, why are you such a workaholic?"

I shrug, taking a bite of the noodles. They're good, but Sagan's late mother made better ones.

"I like mindless tasks. I can just shut all my thinking off."

"Why would you want to do that?"

"My mind tends to wander when I think"

The next few moments are filled with silence as we chew our noodles. Our silences have ceased to be awkward, but they're not quite comforting. They'll never be comforting because comforting implies some kind of closeness, which Emma will never have to me.

For the same reason that Sagan can't be close to me--not because I don't want their companionship, well maybe for Sagan, but because they don't deserve the storms that come with liking me.

Instead of talking, I watch the sunset through my window. Being on the highest floor means that it feels like I'm on top of the world--everything looks pretty and I can pretend that I am not a part of the chaos.

That I am a spectator and nothing in the world can touch me. Just like ice.

"What's going on between you and Sagan?" Emma blurts out, startling me out of my reverie and reminding me that I am not the only one in my little world, no matter how hard I wish. "I mean, besides the obvious sexual tension, you guys seem...I don't know. In your own little world."

In a way, we are. In our own little tumbling spiral downward until we crash I think.

Instead of addressing her question, I deflect. "We do not have sexual tension."

She takes the bait, rolling her eyes with an exasperated sigh. "Please. It's like fifty shades all over again. When does he take you to his mansion and throw you on the sofa and--"

"Emma. Stop."

She bats her eyelashes at me. "Not even a little detail?"

"In your dreams."

"Girl, you would be surprised at all the dirty things that happen in my dreams."

"Not me and Sagan, I hope."

"What if I told you that the two of you are all I ever dream about and that's why you're my favoring pairing?"

A pang of nostalgia strikes me as I remember what it feels like to banter with somebody that I'm familiar with. But with that nostalgia comes remembrance of why it doesn't happen anymore.

"You should leave. I need to get back to work."

If my sudden interruption confuses her, she doesn't show it. She just nods and says, "See you later, Juno."