Page 79 of I Love to Hate You
I nod, too, understanding that it’s going to be a while before I get any answers. However, I’m not going to give up.
“Ready,” I say, and the long day of onboarding begins.
* * *
I’m stunned by how fast a day can go by when all you're doing is filling out paperwork. Somehow, the day that I was so excited for ends with a whimper instead of a bang. There’s no exciting task that Maya and I had to carry out to prove ourselves to a room full of our fellow employees who still think we’re wet behind the ears. There was no meeting for us to speak up in, showing how strong-minded we are. In fact, by the end of the day, we never even met with Mr. Conner, the man who essentially chose to bring us on full-time. The day concluded silently, and when we left HR, even the interns had already vacated the building. There was no one but Maya and I walking side by side to the elevator, having gone the entire day without talking about anything at all.
“Not exactly the first day we expected, huh?” I say when we’re in the parking lot.
Maya looks at me, but there is no fire in her eyes. “Yeah, not exactly. I think tomorrow will be better.”
I reach out and take one of her hands in mine. “Listen, I know you're having a bad day and don’t want to talk about it, but I want you to know that I’m here for you. I won’t pry, and I’ll wait until you're ready to talk about whatever it is, but if at any point tonight you want to talk to me, just call me. I’ll come right over, and you already know I don’t give a damn if your father doesn’t like it. I’ll be there, Maya. Okay?”
She tries to smile, but her cheeks just don't seem to have the energy, and all she can manage is to press her lips together while she nods, barely able to keep eye contact with me.
“Okay,” she says. She pops her door open and lowers herself into the front seat. “Thanks, Kendrick.”
“Of course,”I reply.
Maya closes her door and doesn’t hesitate a second before starting the car, pulling on her seatbelt, and driving away, leaving me in the lot alone.
The rest of the night goes by just as quickly and quietly as the day did, and although I grow impatient and too worried to stay away, the text I send to Maya in the evening goes unanswered, and I spend the entire night wondering if she’s okay. I even get up from my couch and grab my car keys, but end up putting them back. She didn’t answer. She clearly wants to be left alone, so I decide to give her the space she wants and head to bed without hearing a word from Maya.
Like she said in the parking lot, I think tomorrow will be better.
Forty-Six
~ KENDRICK~
I grab my phone the second my eyes fully open, and I’m thrilled that there are a ton of new notifications. I pull down at the top of my screen and look through each one: an email that should have gone straight to my junk mail, two Facebook notifications from a post I made three days ago, a Facebook Messenger notification from someone checking up on me because they just heard about Simon’s death, five Twitter notifications related to who is the greatest basketball player of all-time, four Instagram likes from people I don't know, and ten likes on TikTok, for a grand total of twenty-three notifications that are not from Maya.
“What the hell?” I whisper to myself as I get up and begin getting ready for the day. We’re supposed to have a final check with Rose first, and then meet with Wyatt Conner to start game planning for the Nasir Booker campaign. It takes everything in me not to be instantly annoying first thing in the morning, but I force myself to not text Maya. She’s probably up and getting dressed just like me, so I’ll give her space. Everything is fine.
Twenty minutes later, I’m in a black button-up and slacks, with white and silver shoes that match the buttons on my shirt. I give myself a once over in the mirror, nodding silent approval at my appearance before grabbing my keys and heading to the car.
Closing the door is like the sound of straw breaking the camel’s back. I’ve waited long enough, I’ve given her enough space to do whatever she needs to do, and now I have to know that Maya is okay. When I press her name in my contacts, I don't even feel bad about it. I’d rather her be bothered by me and know that she’s good than to continue with the torture of not hearing from her. The phone rings four times and switches over to her voicemail prompt, making my stomach drop like a roller coaster ride.
“Hey, I’m just calling to check on you,” I say in my message. “I’m not sure what’s up, but I’m worried, so please call me when you get this, even if you're already on your way to Bell Liberty. I just want to hear from you and know that everything is straight. Just call me, okay? Hope to hear from you soon.”
I hang up and drop my phone into the cup holder as my heart continues to remind me of how anxious I am by beating faster. Even if I denied it in my head, the pounding of my heart would keep me honest, and it stays that way the entire drive to BLM.
In the parking lot, I scan every car and know in seconds that Maya’s is not here, and it only makes me more nervous. I park and get out, then stand in front of the entrance until the last possible minute before I’m officially late to just my second day as an employee. Maya doesn’t show, and my ride up the elevator is filled with intrusive thoughts and a heart rate so fast it makes me lightheaded. I could panic right now, but I have to keep it together. There’s still a possibility that she was dropped off by her father today. It may seem unlikely, but it’s a possibility, and I hold onto that thought like a security blanket as the elevator doors open.
The BLM offices are flowing as usual. People from every department fill the space, some of them just having conversations, but most of them working diligently. Phones ring in places I can hear but can’t see, and invisible people answer all around me. So many voices coming in all at once, and none of them Maya’s. As I walk down the hall and pass the conference room where the interns and Denver are already conversing at the table, Samantha sees me and tilts her head upward, saying “What’s up?” through the door before giving her attention back to Denver. I return the gesture, but I know the look on my face doesn’t match the greeting. Luckily, Samantha focuses on whatever Denver is going on about, and I continue to the HR department where Rose just happens to be walking by as I cross the threshold.
“Hey, Rose,” I say, grabbing her attention. “Maya didn’t come by here, did she?”
“Nope,” she responds quickly. “Then again, we actually finished up all of our paperwork yesterday, so there’s no need for you guys to come back here. You're good to go. Is everything okay? You know that old cliché about having seen a ghost? Well, that's how you look right now.”
I shake my head. “I’m okay. I just haven't heard from Maya since we left here yesterday and I’m starting to worry. It’s cool, though. Maybe she’s already in Mr. Conner’s office.”
“Maybe so,” Rose agrees. “I’m sure she’ll turn up.”
“Yeah,” I say unenthusiastically, before spinning around and walking away.
I walk as fast as I can until I reach Wyatt Conner’s office, and find him sitting behind his desk in an office twice as wide as the conference room I’m accustomed to. His cherry wood desk is covered with pictures of who I assume are friends and family, as well as awards he has won in the industry. There are more awards fastened to the wall in cherry wood picture frames, as well as his diploma from Drexel University. There's a couch and a few chairs with matching maroon coloring, and a small cherry wood table on the far side with four chairs aimed at a smart board in the center of the wall. The board is covered with words that don't mean anything to me, but I can tell it’s a strategy for marketing a product. I walk in and notice every single detail of this office, which only makes the thing that is missing even more glaring. Maya is not here.
“Good morning, Kendrick and Maya,” Mr. Conner says when he sees me, then he does a double take. “Oh, no Maya?” I stare at him as all of the intrusive thoughts I fought away earlier begin to win the war in my head. “Kendrick, is everything okay?”
