The movement on my left pulled me back into reality, and as I turned back toward my table, I realized it was Johnny, sliding back into his seat. I couldn't even remember why I wanted to leave. I couldn't remember a single thought I’d had just minutes ago, but I could still feelhiseyes on me.
"Are you okay?" Johnny asked as he sat down, pulling his chair closer to the table. "You look flushed."
"Uh, yeah," I lied. Because I wasn't fine. Not even a little bit. The more I sat there looking at Johnny, the more I wished I’d matched with the other guy on the app, because just looking at him had sent my nervous system into overdrive. And wasn't that what I wanted? "I think it got just a little too hot in here."
"Oh, I hear you. This one time I was changing the lights for Mimi and—" Here we go again.
I almost rolled my eyes, but as he launched into yet another story about Mimi's aquarium, I glanced to my right to see if my mysterious guy was still there. I couldn't help the wave of disappointment that rushed through me when I found his table empty. The profound loss echoing through my body wasn't something I wanted to examine right now. I haven't felt it this sharply since I left my country., Still, I couldn't stop staring at the empty table, the sadness taking a hold of my body.
"And then I moved this?—"
"Johnny," I stopped his tirade, because I couldn't spend another minute listening about a goddamn fish. I loved them. They were cute. But man. "I swear to God, if you don'tstop talking about your fish, and only about your fish, I will stab this fork through your eye."
Johnny blanched and pulled back a bit, a look passing over his face that I could only describe as comical. Comical because he definitely didn't expect that to come out of my mouth, and as if he didn't know what to say, his mouth opened. Then closed. Then opened again. And I couldn't stop the laughter that tore through my lips.
"You look," I continued laughing. "You look like a fish right now."
In hindsight, this probably wasn't going to win me a second date, but he was asking for it.
Between the constant talk about Mimi, then telling me I should lay off carbs for tonight, he was definitely asking for the side of me I didn't allow to come out all that often. Or at least, I didn't allow it to come out on this side of the world. One thing I noticed once I moved to the United States ten years ago was that people weren't as chill about some things as they were back home in Bosnia and Herzegovina.
So I learned to hide my thoughts, and learned to put a mask on to show them I could fit in. But no matter how hard I tried, no matter how many friends I made or how many promotions I earned, I never felt like I fit with any of them. How could Ifit in when my childhood looked nothing like theirs?
How could I fit in when I'd spent the better part of my childhood learning how to recognize minefields and what to do if I ever ended up in one of them, instead of being a carefree kid, playing wherever I wanted? How could I fit in when I couldn't ignore the monstrosities in our world, when something similar had happened to my country, to my people, to my family?
And how could I imagine my future with a man like Johnny, who was as vapid as they came, when I wanted to talk about stars, history, conspiracy theories, what made us the way we were and where we saw ourselves going? Not fucking aquariums for two hours straight, and fish that were cute but completely irrelevant in this story.
"You know what," I chuckled again, wiping the tears from my eyes. "It was great meeting you, Johnny, and I'm sure you're a great guy, but this wouldn't—" I never got to finish my sentence. I never got to say my goodbyes. I never got to get up from the table and go home.
Because all hell broke loose.
The first shot sliced through the air out of nowhere, stopping the time, stopping everything for just one second before everyone started screaming.
I looked at Johnny, but the motherfucker was nowhere to be seen, so I did what they taught us if the shooting ever started again in post-war torn Bosnia. I went down, straight to the floor, hoping this was just a nightmare I’d soon wake up from.
But destiny had other plans.
2
AJLA
When I wasseven years old, an organization came to our primary school to runa workshop on what to do in dangerous situations and how to react if we ended up in the middle of a shootout. Well, let me tell you one thing—no one fucking told you how frozen you’d be as bullets ran over your head, or that you wouldn't even think about moving from the spot.
The movies lied to us, people. They. Fucking. Lied.
The people closest to the exit managed to escape out of the restaurant, but the rest of us? The rest of us were huddled on the floor, shaking, crying, praying, begging for this shit to stop. I couldn't even see who was shooting or what was happening, because somewhere between hitting thefloor and guns blazing all around me, I ended up underneath the table covered by a massive table cloth, with just a little bit of space through which I could see a few other people in the similar position.
And that fucker I came here with was nowhere to be found. For a second,I thought he might’ve been shot when he simply disappeared. But when I tumbled down on the floor and didn’tt see him bleeding out and praying for Mimi, I knew he’d fucking ran away, leaving me there.
My phone was somewhere on the table, and while I liked to pretend I was a reincarnation of Lara Croft from time to time, there was no way in hell I was getting out of here any time soon. At least not until the police came.
And where were they anyway? Shooting like this in the middle of Redmont couldn't go unnoticed. Granted, I'd only been living in the city for about a year, but someone must have called the police. I wanted to be the brave soul that would get out of my little hiding place and grab my phone, but truth be told, I was scared shitless. And I didn't want to die.
God, I really, really didn't want to die.
I haven't told my mom I loved her. I haven't seen my grandma in two years, and I wanted to be there when my little sister got married. I still wantedto adopt a dog or a cat. I wanted to feel loved. I'd spent years of my life chasing my career, chasing these wild dreams of success, only to figure out that success was subjective. What meant everything for one person meant nothing to another.
My position at Altay Inc. was amazing, and as a Director of Marketing and PR, I should've been happy. Elated, even, that I got to live a life many dreamed of. But I wasn't living. I was existing. Going through motions Subjecting my entire life to my job without looking over the fence to see that there were other things I could be focusing on.