Chapter 13

THIRTEEN

SOPHIE

Temporal lobe, generalized seizures, tonic-clonic, cluster, absence … Sophie’s eyes burned. After crashing hard on Friday from a self-induced sugar coma, and using Saturday for chores, errands, and catching up with Maya, she’d spent most of Sunday researching everything she could on epilepsy. And the more she learned, the less she knew.

It wasn’t Sophie’s place to ask questions or find out what type of epilepsy Ella had. However, her urge to learn more consumed her. What was it like the first time she had a seizure? Did it hurt? How could a kid handle that, go to school, and deal with all the shitty social pressure that comes along with being a kid? How was college? How often did it happen?

Sophie continued reading as the metro bumped down to the office. Focal onset aware . People can be awake during a seizure? After hours of reading yesterday, she definitely understood that what she knew as a “grand mal” seizure was now called a tonic-clonic seizure, and not every person with epilepsy had these types of seizures.

The bus pulled up to the corner, and Sophie hopped off. She turned the corner and saw Ella making her way up the sidewalk, and Sophie’s heart skipped a beat. Skipped a beat? She breathed through the sensation. Since last week, it felt as though a barrier had broken. The lines, the boundary, had somehow blurred, and Sophie loved it. She saw glimpses of a personality that she hadn’t known existed, absorbed sparks and tingles she hadn’t felt for years. Ella had made her laugh, hard, on Friday, and it felt damn good. And she was funny . Who knew? She played off her deliciously devilish innuendos as playful and innocent, but a flash, something twinkly and mischievous, sparked through her gaze, and Sophie went home desperate to know more.

And it didn’t help that the vision of Ella saying “licking glazed fingers” had seeped somewhere deep and warm into Sophie’s subconscious, producing pretty incredible dreams Friday night. Although, admittedly, it might have just been the sugar eating at her brain cells.

“Ella! Hey!” Sophie called out, and increased her steps.

Ella turned around and smiled, and dammit . Now the skipped heartbeat took a lunge and morphed into thumps.

“Hey!” Ella pushed her glasses up with her index finger and moved toward Sophie, with a full, white-toothed smile.

Maybe it was how Ella walked, or because she was at an incline, but Ella had a bounce to her step that Sophie hadn’t seen before. In fact, Sophie could swear Ella was damn near jumping.

Damn, she’s pretty adorable.

“I was thinking about you this weekend. I almost sent you a text,” Ella said as she joined Sophie.

Hmmm. Sophie kept her face neutral, refusing to show how much she thought of Ella over the weekend as well. She sincerely doubted Ella had the same thoughts as Sophie did, or prompted the same internal energy. “Oh yeah? Got visions-slash-nightmares of project plans in your head.”

Ella let out a soft chuckle. “No. I was wondering if you recovered from Friday. My dad and I stopped at Alki Bakery on Saturday, and I couldn’t even imagine having any more sweets.”

Sophie held the building door open for Ella. “Man, he must have a gut of steel. I had to stop by the grocery store on Friday and grab some Tums. My belly hurt so bad.” They stepped into the elevator and ascended. “But I think it was good to go through that exercise. So many ideas got tossed around, something must have sparked the team.”

The office was still, even more than usual, and the motion-detected lights flickered alive. Sophie tossed her bag on the chair next to her and pulled out her red marker to cross off the date on her calendar. Twenty-five days left until launch. Her stomach lurched into her throat. So much still had to be done, but at this point, most was out of her control. She could confirm statuses, mediate, set timelines, and funnel information. But she wasn’t a creator.

“What’s on the agenda for today?” Ella asked as she plugged in her laptop to the docking station.

Sophie turned on the monitor. “I have to clean up all the notes I took on Friday morning. Honestly, I should’ve sent those Friday night, but after the doughnut fiesta, no one was going to look at them.” Talking about delayed notes caused a pinch in her chest. After the massive working hours the last several weeks, and gorging on sweets, the last thing the team was going to do was review anything she sent. But she needed to send them ASAP, because as soon as 9:00 a.m. hit, the team would need the information to continue with their work.

“Perfect.” Ella clicked against her keyboard. “I can work on updating the task assignments.”

Sophie checked her watch. Dammit. The metro had been delayed this morning, which pushed everything back by fifteen minutes. She needed a full hour to edit, review, and send the notes.

She clicked her mouse over the screen and froze. Wait… what? No. No… this couldn’t be. Her fingers flew, clicking and clicking. Where the hell were the notes? She always used this app. But instead of notes, facing her was a big, fat blank screen. Her heartbeat clouded her vision. Did she take them somewhere else? No… she wouldn’t have. She searched, clicked, global searched, and clicked, again. What in the actual hell? She was the most diligent, organized person she knew. How had she messed this up? Sickness snaked through her stomach.

Gone. Everything was gone. Not a single thing had been captured from arguably one of the most important meetings of the week and she wanted to puke. “Shit.”

Ella glanced up from her screen, her eyes narrowing in concern. “Everything good?”

“No.” Her tongue was sharp, as heated panic spread across her chest.

Ella’s eyes flickered down, and Sophie’s gut turned. Sophie laid a gentle hand on Ella’s arm. “Sorry. I’m not mad at you. I’m livid with myself and in total panic mode.” Without those notes, they were royally effed. She could try to recreate them, but she couldn’t recite the finer details from memory. Maybe she should go to IT to try and recover what was lost, but that would be a minimum of a few hours and she didn’t have any hours. She didn’t even have seconds.

“What’s happened?” Ella asked.

Sophie slumped back into her chair, her eyes refusing to meet Ella’s gaze. She loved her role, loved being hyper-organized. The validation she received daily from her work filled her inexplicably. But now, she wanted to curl into a ball in the corner. “I lost the notes I took Friday morning. Everything’s gone.” The words felt like sandpaper ripping her throat.

“The notes from the round-one call on Friday?” Ella straightened. “I took notes. Maybe I can help?”

Sophie’s ears perked. “You did?”

“Yes. You told me to take notes on everything, remember?”

A smile filled Ella’s tone. She tapped the keyboard, turned the laptop to face Sophie, and scooted closer. A waft of rose and mint hit Sophie, and she tingled against the scent, before something else hit her. Shock. Right before her, on Ella’s screen, lay perfectly buttoned-up, time-stamped, highly organized, master class-worthy notes. The air returned to her lungs.

“Ella! What? Holy sh… These are amazing.” She threw her arms around Ella and squeezed.

Ella went stiff.

“Oh my God.” Sophie yanked herself away. As a staunch supporter of consent before touching of any kind, she felt icky. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean…” Her palm flew to the back of her head.

“No, it’s totally okay.” Ella cleared her throat as her cheeks swept with pink. “I’m really glad I could help.”

For the last week or so, Sophie had found herself looking forward more and more to work, knowing she’d spend time with Ella. Even though years had passed since something like this happened, Sophie wasn’t in total denial about what was bubbling inside—the electric zings, the extra care in picking out outfits, the lightness in her chest when Ella arrived. Besides the one-night stand with the nameless woman from the happy hour last year—which didn’t count as having feelings —it had been a long time since Sophie festered like this. Everything happening inside was certainly more than what one should feel for a co-worker. But as Sophie re-scanned the pristine notes, something else took over—gratitude. She was thankful she and Ella were on the same team. “Do you want to send this out?”

Ella’s mouth opened, then closed. “Are you sure?” Behind the chunky frames, her eyes grew wide. “This is your project. You’re the lead. I’m just a bystander.”

The humility in her voice struck a chord. Ella did not realize the level of ass-saving she just performed. Beyond that, she’d gotten zero credit for all the time she’d spent in the office working on this project. “You deserve everyone knowing they came from you.”

Ella tucked a dark lock behind her ear, and her lips twitched into a grin. She leaned toward the screen and squinted hard for several moments while scrolling through the page. She poised her fingers, hit a few buttons, and leaned back with a satisfied sigh.

The next few hours blurred. Sophie’s fingers and brain struggled to keep up with the pace. Pings bounced in from everywhere, carrying messages like “what’s the timing?,” “where we at with approval?,” and “client meeting set for tomorrow.” People buzzed by, juggling laptops and coffee as they rushed to their next meeting, while chatter and swearing filled the space.

Mid-message to the legal team, Ella tossed a granola bar on Sophie’s desk.

“How did you know?” Sophie ripped open the wrapper and chewed, hoping to quiet the rumbles in her stomach.

Ella blew the top of her bangs from her face and opened her own wrapper. “You’re like the Snickers commercial, where the person is hangry.”

Sophie huffed through her nose. “See? A proper ad. How long ago did that come out and you still reference it?”

“Good lesson. Got it.” Ella nibbled on the granola bar. “Sure is quiet without my dad here today.”

Sophie coughed. She may have warmed up to Ella, but not enough to where she would talk smack about her dad. She fully subscribed to the universal language that you can always talk crap about your own parents, but never about someone else’s. “Is he back tomorrow?”

“Yes. Sounds like this week is heavy on?—”

Crunch . A shrieking, violent sound of shattering glass and a sickening metallic crunch ripped through the room. Sophie’s toes gripped into the shaking floor. The faint sound of Ella gasping and clutching her chest sounded next to her. Sophie blinked the room into focus and touched her limbs to see if they were intact, as her pulse thudded in her neck. One, then two, then three full seconds passed before the room boomed back to life. People yelled across the room and bolted to the window.

Ella remained frozen, her cheeks nearly stark white, her eyes unblinking.

The fear traveling Ella’s face made Sophie want to hug her, but she refrained this time. Instead, Sophie pressed her fingertips to Ella’s shoulder. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah… I, uh…” Ella patted herself and her gaze darted the room. “Was that an earthquake?”

It was definitely something, but an earthquake seemed unlikely. Sophie joined her co-workers, who were pressed up against the window. Her breath fogged the pane, as the scene unfolded. Nine floors below, chaos had erupted—billowed smoke, a gaggle of yelling onlookers, and honking halted traffic. Sophie squinted and leaned in, making out what looked like three or four collided cars, and a delivery truck that had slammed into their building.

“Oh my God…” Ella whispered, with her hands flattened against the glass. “I hope no one got hurt. Did anyone see what happened?”

A man ran down the sidewalk carrying a fire extinguisher, people paced like caged animals with phones glued to their ears. Panicked pedestrians pulled people from the cars, doors flung open, a woman’s scream reached them all the way on the ninth floor.

“Everyone all right?” Malcolm asked as he rounded the corner and joined his team at the window.

Sophie nodded as murmurs swirled the surrounding space.

“That guy must’ve come out of nowhere.”

“Should someone call 911?”

“Someone down there probably did.”

“Don’t want to overload the system.”

A piercing alarm cut through the conversation, and Sophie threw her hands over her ears. “Warning. Fire. Warning. Fire.” The speakers roared with the mechanical voice and the security lights flashed. Ella’s brows knitted so close together they almost became one, as she covered her ears and closed her eyes.

Sophie pulled Ella close to her, the deafening siren slicing at her eardrums. Beneath her palms, Ella trembled. “It’s going to be fine, okay? I got you,” Sophie whispered. The blinking lights didn’t engulf the entire room, but she didn’t know if they could still trigger a seizure. “We have earthquake and fire drills every quarter. It’s probably not even a real fire, more a precautionary measure.”

Ella kept her eyes closed and chewed her lower lip. “Okay.” The words sounded pushed out, with no level of confidence attached.

Within a few seconds, the office team emergency response snapped into order, fixing neon hats on their heads, and bellowing orders through a bullhorn. “Everyone needs to evacuate. This way please. Stay calm, move quick.”

Ella opened her eyes, fear filling her face. Her chest lifted in heavy breaths, and she slammed her left eye with her palm. It took Sophie a moment to recall an article she read about closing one eye during strobing lights to help stave off the trigger.

“Come on.” Sophie tugged Ella towards the desk as the team hurried to grab a few items and follow the line out the door. “We don’t know how long this will last. I’ll grab our laptops and backpacks and we can work from Starbucks or something until they let us back in.”

The calmness in Sophie’s tone was a bit of a farce, but it wasn’t the car-accident situation making her uneasy. Riding the metro alone since she was ten, she’d seen the most random things in the city, and little frazzled her. Accidents, drug use, fights, film crews, protests, unicycles. But seeing a normally poised Ella with a flushed face and fear-laced eyes tore through Sophie.

After shoving their belongings in a bag, Sophie led Ella to the door, and walked hip to hip with the other building mates down nine floors. Sophie carried both bags as Ella gripped the side of the railing with her free hand, still covering her eye with her other. The shuffling of workers filled the stairwell. Moans that people were being too cautious, some jokes that folks were getting out of a meeting they didn’t want to attend, and others wondering if people got hurt filled the cement echo chamber. The faintest sensation of claustrophobia took over as Sophie tried not to imagine what would happen if someone tripped.

Outside, Sophie inhaled a mist-filled breath and peeked at Ella, who blinked open her left eye. First responder sirens wailed in the background, and the emergency response team waved people away from the scene. “This way! Keep walking!”

Ella’s color slowly returned. She grabbed her backpack from Sophie and slung it over her shoulder. “Thanks for carrying this.”

The tone was too sheepish, and Sophie tried hard to push away the sympathy, but she couldn’t help it. Even before her epilepsy research rabbit hole, she knew flashing lights could trigger a seizure. Obviously, Ella was human and had feelings just like other people, and seeing her like this, obviously scared, fragile, and uncertain, made Sophie want to wrap a blanket around her and sit with her until she returned to her normal, feisty self.

After walking for a block, Sophie pointed across the street. “Let’s duck into that coffee shop by the lights.” She pushed the chirping signal, then scooted through the intersection.

Apparently, the entire building had the same thought as every coffee shop on the block had lines out the door.

“Keep walking?” Ella asked.

“Looks like it.”

They crossed the next street and headed closer to Belltown. The surrounding traffic was still gridlocked, but idle motors took over the honking. Ella’s braced shoulders returned to a less militant stance, but her smile was gone. “Are you sure you’re okay? Things like that freak me out, too.”

Ella’s chest lifted in an inhale. “I thought for a second I had a seizure.”

Huh? Sophie’s head cocked. “Really?”

“Only a split second.” Ella sidestepped an approaching pedestrian. “It’s probably more PTSD than anything. But when something way out of the norm happens, it takes my brain a moment to reconcile the disorientation, you know? It was just shocking, that’s all.”

That actually made sense. When Sophie was around twelve, she and her dad were in a minor fender bender. She had that same reaction, wondering for a hot second if she was hurt. “I get it. I mean, I’ll never fully understand what these situations are like for you, but I can conceptually understand. But the sound of the truck hitting the building…” She shuddered. “So scary. I’ve never heard anything like that before.”

Yes, she researched over the weekend about epilepsy, but she was hungry for more knowledge. How did Ella manage her symptoms? What did it actually feel like? Was she awake or unconscious during a seizure? All the questions seemed so invasive, and the very last thing she wanted Ella to think was that Sophie felt any less about her. In fact, Sophie’s feelings were nearly the opposite. Ella was rising to superhero status. But she refrained from telling Ella that, as she didn’t want to be seen as glamorizing the disorder.

At this point, no words was probably the best option.

Sophie stepped over a dip in the sidewalk and turned the block. Great. Another line out the door. “Good God. It’s the coffee-apocalypse.”

“You going through withdrawals yet?” Ella raised her eyebrows, and oh , if that teasing tone didn’t do something to Sophie’s insides.

“Not yet.” Sophie jutted her chin to the opposite street with a public park. “We could sit on a park bench and hotspot from our cells, but the mist is going to shift to rain any second and we’re gonna get cold and wet.”

“I’m no expert, but I think they frown upon laptops getting wet.”

“Ha. True.” Sophie slowed her steps. Heading back home was the most logical decision. But she’d grown used to spending more time with Ella than anyone else in her life, and the idea of working solo from her apartment didn’t sound fun. She liked having a co-worker she could rely on. She refused to allow her brain to think it was anything but that, but the belly tingles had other ideas. “I guess we could work from home. I know we need to be locked at the hip, but we could just do a Zoom call and share our screens?”

Ella slowed to a full stop. She glanced at Sophie, at her watch, then back to Sophie. “I have an idea.” A grin spread, wide, full, and beautiful. “Want to come home with me?”