Page 9 of Time Loops & Meet Cutes
Sure enough, the new customer is smiling. Everything about him says that he’s a guy who’s relaxed about life. When he notices me looking in his direction, he gives me a pleasant nod before tapping his credit card to pay for his order.
Ah, that’s why he sounds familiar! He’s the man who asked if I was okay at the market. Curious that I’ve now seen him in two different places, but it’s not like I’ve seen him in two places at the same time. Maybe this is just what he does on June 20: he has bubble tea in the early afternoon, then goes to the night market later on. A coincidence, nothing more.
After placing his order, this rather cute guy—fine, yes, I admit he’s cute—looks over at me… and keeps looking. He tilts his head and his smile disappears. “Have we met before?”
He doesn’t remember our encounter at the market, but he seems to have a vague memory of me. Interesting. After all I’ve been through in the past few days, it’s nearly enough to make me throw my arms around him.
But rather than explaining the weirdness that is my life, I shake my head.
“Do you like it?” Lina asks as we look in the mirror together.
“I do,” I say.
My head feels so much lighter. A new me. Temporarily.
I pay for the haircut and add a generous tip, then head toward the night market. At a booth run by a Singaporean café, I’mtempted by the kopi, even though I don’t usually drink coffee after five o’clock. That could have actual consequences: I might not be able to fall sleep.
Though it might be a good idea to stay up later than usual. See how this time loop actually works. Does it reset at midnight? Two in the morning? Whenever I fall asleep? What happens if I don’t fall asleep? Will I break the time loop? Will I have to stay up forever?
Just as my thoughts start spiraling, it’s my turn to order. I ask for a kopi. It’s delicious, and since there’s no one else in line, I figure I can indulge myself again.
“Another one,” I say.
After my second kopi, I’m wired, to put it mildly. A now-familiar child darts into my path, and I manage to avoid him, as does the woman carrying lots of food. But once again, her drink is a casualty.
Yep, everything is exactly as it was yesterday, down to the missing dumpling booth. But there’s a white woman with pink hair standing where the booth should be, and I don’t think I’ve seen her before, though maybe I just wasn’t paying attention.
I’m not used to staying up late, and I’m not sure how to fill the time. A part of me itches to be productive, so I sit at the desk in my living room, turn on my work computer, and pull up the proposal that Tyler emailed me when he left at four thirty. If I’m able to break the time loop, the work I do won’t be in vain.
With a cup of herbal tea to keep me company and my hands shaking slightly—thanks to all the earlier caffeine, I presume—I get to work. I correct Tyler’s copious errors. There are four errors in the first sentence alone. Then I start adding all the things that he missed.
I’ve tried to talk to Tyler about the quality of his workbefore. I’ve worked here a lot longer than he has—he only graduated a year ago—and I’m supposed to be a mentor to him. It’s not just his writing either; everything he does is sloppy. He just laughs and says he’ll do better next time, then never does, leaving me to clean it up.
By eleven, I’m relatively pleased with the proposal. I need to read it over again, but it’s good for now. I back it up in about six different ways, then turn off my computer, change into my pajamas, and rewatch an episode ofMurdoch Mysteries. I start a second episode, but I keep looking at my phone. 11:59…
Midnight. Nothing happens.
Well, that was anticlimactic, and I’ll have to waste more time, which is something I’m not adept at doing. When the episode ends, I turn off the TV and return to reading the book that I started at the restaurant today.
One o’clock rolls around, and I’m still here in my blue pajama shorts.
By two, my eyes are drooping, but I have to stay awake. My phone says it’s June 21, and I feel a surge of hope. Maybe if I stay awake for a few more hours, I won’t go back in time.
Then I remember that I spent rather a lot of money today—a bottle of wine at lunch, a not-so-cheap haircut—and those charges might not go away if the loop is broken. Should I just try to fall asleep?
No. I’ve gotten this far. I won’t give up. I’m not a quitter. Never have been. Besides, I have the money in my account. I’ll be able to save less than usual this month, but that’s okay.
I make myself a large cup of coffee and return to the futon. It’s getting hard to focus on the book, though it’s easier than usual to believe in aliens and spaceships that travel at the speed of light. Anything seems possible right now, perhaps even seeing the sunrise on June 21.
As it approaches three o’clock, my stomach starts to rumble. By the time it’s five minutes to three, I’m getting quite hungry. I pad to the kitchen, open the fridge…
The next thing I know, I’m in bed and my alarm is going off.
Fuck.
5Noelle
June 20, Version 9
