Love All The Way

19| Risk it all

For the next few hours, I have no idea what to do with myself. My office feels too big, big enough that I could lie down on the floor and do yoga if I wanted. Big enough that I can spin and spin and not bump into anything. Big enough that I can't help but feel alone.

I get up and do another lap of the office before settling at the window. This view will never not take away my breath. My mother would say it's just another concrete jungle: billboard after billboard and cookie-cutter buildings obstructing an otherwise endless blue sky, but to me, it's so much more than that. This city means hope: hope to dream and discover and prosper. Hope to be more than we ever thought we could. If there is one thing I love about being on seven, it's the view.

It feels like forever before I head back to my desk. That feeling of uncertainty creeps in again, settling in my bones. Maybe it's the fact that it's been less than an hour, and this place has yet to feel like my own. Yes, that's definitely it.

Determined, I get to work rectifying that. After color-coding my notebooks, I work on sharpening my pencils and organizing my folders. It's therapeutic, in a way, to focus on this, like I'm organizing my way to peace and prosperity. This role will be good for me; I can start a new chapter in an otherwise lackluster book.

I can forget about Milo.

At one point, the others appear at my door like a group of Amazonian Warriors, desperate to glimpse a look at their new member. I scan for Lucas, relieved to find that he's decided not to join them, so at least I don't have to worry about seeing him. 

I get to my feet and walk over, managing to trip on the ridiculously slippy, polished floors. If Milo were here, he'd say something like, That's typical of you, but now the only voice here to say it is the one in my head.

The girls share a look as if to say, who hired this clown before the blonde upfront steps forward and offers her brightest smile. "Hey," she says, offering a hand, "I'm Miranda."

"I'm Kennedy," I say as I take it, "I'm excited to be working with you all. You got any advice for me?" I mean it in a jokey way like maybe there's a bathroom we try to avoid or the coffee machine splutters and covers your shirt, but instead, they take up shop in my office and delve into media-worthy gossip.

"Laurelle has two boyfriends," the redhead, Charter, says giddily. "And the best part is that they don't know about each other. One time, we tried to orchestrate them showing up to the office at the same time, but it fell through."

I blink back, unsure of what to say to that, but it doesn't matter; they're already moving on to the kiss between Allie and the mailman. If I thought the gossip in six was nasty, seven is a whole other level. 

"What was it like on six?" Charter asks. "God, every time I see that Milo I want to jump his bones. I was so convinced he'd gotten the promotion when he came up here this morning." She looks over as if she's realized what she said. "Not that I'm not happy you got it. I think you'd be a better fit up here anyway."

Through all of her babbling, only one thing stands out. "Milo was called up here?"

Miranda slaps some lipgloss on and nods. "Spent forever talking to Laurelle."

"What about Patricia?" I ask. "Was she called up here too?"

"I don't think so." She turns to the mirror and fixes her hair. "Do you know if Milo is single?"

Something territorial kicks in. Sure, Milo and I aren't technically together, and anything between us is dead and buried with this sudden promotion, but I still don't want them lusting after him.

"He's seeing someone," I say, "has been for a while. I mean, relationships between six and seven are forbidden anyway, right?" I don't know why, but I half hope one of them says that I'm wrong, that maybe there's hope for me and Milo.