Tightrope

7

NOW

BECCA

"Good morning, Julie. How's that hangover?" I answered my phone, putting it on speaker as I made my bed, as it was the first thing I did every morning.

"You'll be happy to know it's nonexistent," Julie answered, sounding quite chipper for someone who had drank so much in a single night. A Sunday night.

"I'm actually so jealous of you, I don't really get hungover but I get the spins for like a whole day after drinking as much as you did," I told her.

Last night, I had chosen to drink only one Manhattan and to stick to water for the rest of the night. I had gotten home by eleven-thirty and was asleep by twelve. It was now seven in the morning of my very first day at my new job, and the anxiety was starting to get me.

Julie had been so drunk last night, but it had seemed like she had so much fun, too. As we parted, Julie took my phone and added herself to my contacts as "Julie Hallet (supermarket ass)" and then told me she would call me in the morning.

Apparently, Julie wasn't kidding.

"So, you ready for your first day?" She said so casually as if we had been friends for the longest time, and I couldn't help but appreciate it deeply. I had had a couple of friends thought my life, some of which I loved dearly, but they had always just been that: friends. Will had been the only friend I'd ever considered family, and ever since then, I had never been able to find anything even remotely close to what we had. For some reason, Julie felt like the kind of person who could fit right into that role. She seemed like the kind of person that wouldn't wait to be invited into that role, but would simply settle herself into it without a word.

I liked it.

"I don't know, Julie. I thought I was but I just woke up with the worst anxiety ever." I admitted as I moved to open the suitcase labeled "work."

I pulled out a black suit and a white shirt, as well as a pair of pointed black stiletto heels. I would probably look more professional than I wanted to, but it was my first day, and I had to make a good impression. I needed to show that I was the person for the job and that my age didn't make me any less qualified for it.

"You're gonna do just fine, Becca. You're ready. You're gonna walk in there and show them what they taught you to get that fancy bachelor's degree and master's degree." Julie encouraged me.

"The master's degree is pretty recent," I murmured.

"My point is, you got this, Becca. Don't let the possibility of seeing William again after all these years distract you from what you're really there to do." Julie continued.

"And what's that?" I asked, taking the phone with me to the bathroom as I prepared my things to shower.

"To follow your dreams and land your dream job, obviously. Plus, you got that other great EMT thing, too."

It was extremely weird how well Julie knew me after only knowing me for a day. I had almost forgotten about the second part of my job. When I was a sophomore in college, I got certified as an EMT and worked as one for the next two and a half years. It was in my curriculum as one of my qualifications, and apparently, the Chicago Whispers needed a paramedic to help the team doctor, as well as a publicist for the team. I had been hired to do both jobs.

"You're right, thank you, Julie," I said. "What are you up to today?"

"I gotta go get breakfast with my mom, and then I gotta go work with the dogs," Julie answered.

"Sounds like a nice plan, say hi to your mom for me," I joked, knowing I didn't even know her mom.

"Will do. Have a good day, Becca. You got this!" She followed along.