Jay:Just lying in a dark room having an existential crisis.
Aleeza:Oh no. Are you okay?
Jay:I mean, finding out I’ll be dead in a few months is kind of heavy. I thought about going to the campus drop-in counseling, but what the hell would I tell them?
Shit. Maybe I shouldn’t have told Jay about his coat and phone washing up on the beach. I could have investigated it on my own without involving him.
Aleeza:Jay, we will figure this out. I promise. And then you’ll know how to avoid it. You’ll be okay.
Jay:Okay, let’s talk about something else. You posted another octopus on your Instagram today. Why are you so into them?
I check my Instagram, and yes, I posted an octopus mural I saw in early November. He must be checking my feed regularly. He didn’t follow me—I’d notice if Jay Hoque followed me on any social media.
Aleeza:I went to an aquarium when I was a kid, and the tour guide went on for a while about what amazing problem solvers they are, and how they’re really smart. My brother said I was like an octopus because I was into puzzle games. And it kind of stuck.
Jay:You like them because they’re smart?
Aleeza:And I think they’re cool looking. Plus, I love that some octopuses can camouflage themselves to blend into their environment.
Jay:I don’t think you blend in even though you want to.
Aleeza:What do you mean?
Jay:I mean the few times I’ve seen you in person you stood out. I noticed you. But that could be because it’s hard not to notice the person who told me I’m dead.
I exhale. My heart is breaking for Jay. I wish I knew how to make him feel better—even a little bit.
Aleeza:We will figure out how to prevent it.
Jay:But we haven’t yet, have we?
Aleeza:We will. I’m like an octopus, remember? I solve things. I won’t let you go.
Jay:I trust you. But ... I keep thinking about all the things I’ll miss out on if I die. I’m only nineteen.
Aleeza:Things like what?
Maybe this is how I can help him. I’m no therapist. But I can listen.
Jay:Like ... I don’t know. I want to travel. Maybe go see Dhaka, where my mom was born. Or Africa, or India. I’d love to see Japan too.
That reminds me of what Jack said that night, thatwanderlust shouldn’t hurt someone. But it seems unlikely that Jay wanting to travelhas anything to do with this—he didn’t have a trip planned. He was last seen in Toronto, and his things were found in Toronto.
Aleeza:What else?
Jay:I want to work. Like as an engineer. I want to help build sustainable buildings. I want to look at a cityscape and know I had a hand in making them stand there. And I know I’m probably just being a romantic, but I want a family. A wife and kids. A normal nuclear family in a nice house. I want to be a good dad and cook dinner for my wife.
Aleeza:What happened to no commitment?
Jay:I guess my priorities have changed.
Wow. He’s not afraid of commitment anymore. This is huge for Jay. It wasn’t that long ago that he called me naive for wanting my own family. But I suppose learning about his mortality changed him.
Aleeza:Are there things that you’ve always wanted to do that you can do now?
Jay:I already have. Today I spent over forty dollars that I really don’t have on a burger and fries from this pricey place I read about on a food blog. Because I may never have another chance. But I’m not going to tell you the thing I want to do the most ...
Aleeza:Why not?
