Second Chances

Confused In Reality

When I opened my eyes, I wasn't in the classroom anymore. I was in my office. I looked over to see Abigail standing in the doorway with a concerned look on her face.

"Mr. Efron, did you sleep here last night?"

"Umm, yeah," I hesitated. "I had a lot of work to do and must've fallen asleep."

"I thought I called you an Uber home," she said mostly to herself.

"You did," I stuttered. "I came back later."

"Oh," she said, looking at the files in her hands. She cleared her throat as she looked up at me. "So, you have a lunch meeting with Mr. George Hamil at noon. Then you have another meeting with Mrs. Levenson about her divorce at three."

"Thank you, Abigail."

She sent me a small smile before turning on her heel and heading back to her desk. As I watched her walk away, I noticed the difference between her here and her in my other life.

In this life, she didn't seem as comfortable with me. In this life, it felt like it was her first year working for me. In the other life, it felt like we had been friends for decades.

Does she have anything to do with what I'm missing? She is the only thing that's the same. . .

* * * * *

Throughout the day, I found myself watching Abigail. She walked around the office with a constant smile on her face. She was kind to everyone who walked by her, helping anyone who asked for help.

I spent the majority of the morning, racking my brain and trying to figure out why Abigail would be in both versions of my life. Abigail started working for me three years ago. Ever since then she's been great. She's done her job well, she gets along with everyone and has been extremely helpful.

"Mr. Efron?"

I jumped at the sudden voice. I looked up to see Abigail standing in the doorway, holding a to-go container of food.

"Yes?" I stuttered.

"I have your lunch," she said slowly as she stood in the doorway. "Are you okay?"

I looked up at her and froze. Suddenly it all clicked.

How did I not remember her before?

"I umm. . . I gotta go."

"Oh," Abigail said under her breath. "Let me get you an Uber."

"I'm fine," I said standing up and grabbing my suit coat off the back of my chair.

"Are you sure you're okay, Mr. Efron?" She stuttered. "Maybe I should get you an Uber or. . ."

"No," I said a little too harshly. I cleared my throat before quickly adding, "I'm fine, Abigail. Thank you. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Okay then," she stuttered as I left. "I guess I'll see you tomorrow."

* * * * *

I anxiously looked through my old boxes from high school. I let out a sigh of relief when I finally found my high school yearbook from freshman year. I flipped through the yearbook, scanning all the faces of the kids in my class. I froze, my breath getting stuck in my throat when I found her.

Abigail Weston.

I slumped back, the yearbook almost falling off my lap. I ran my fingers through my hair as it all came rushing back. Not only was Abigail Weston in a few of my classes throughout high school, we actually knew each other long before that.

In fact, Abigail and I grew up together. We've been in the same school since elementary school. We were actually close friends until. . .

That's what I couldn't remember. Our friendship sorta fizzled in/around/after middle school. I think. . .