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“Youdon’t sound so sure.”Hechuckles and raises his eyebrows. “Youseem distressed, soIthoughtI’dsee if you were alright.”
I’mnot sure what to make of his interest, though.
“I’mokay, orIwill be.”
“Good.Ihope so.ThoughtIwould ask.”
Ican’t shake the feeling thatI’veseen him before.Hestarts to walk away, butIgrasp his arm, stopping him.
“DoIknow you?”Iask.
Hiseyes narrow as he looks at me carefully. “Youdo seem familiar.Notsure ifIcan quite place you, though.”
Ilook at the growing crowd. “Areyou leaving, or did you just get here?”
“I’mwaiting for a table.ThoughtI’dhit the head.Haven’tstopped sinceLaramie.”Heglances to the back of the restaurant and then back to me.
“Howlong is the wait?”Iask
Helooks over his shoulder and scratches the back of his head. “Ah, an hour or more.HopingIcan get a seat at the counter before then.”
Thecounter is crowded, and since most of the people waiting seem to be traveling alone,I’mnot sure it will be available any faster.I’mcurious how we know each other soIshrug and gesture to the seat across from me. “Youwant to share the booth?Ijust put in my order.Youwouldn’t have to wait so long.”
Heslips his helmet from under his arm to dangle from his fingertips. “Seriously?”
“Icould use the company, maybe we can figure out if we actually have met before.”
Henods. “Okaythen.”Helays the black helmet on the seat. “I’llbe right back.Ifthe waitress stops, can you get me unsweet tea?”
“Sure.”
“Thanks, man,” he says before walking back to the restrooms.
Ourwaitress doesn’t miss a beat and brings over a menu, another set of silverware, and even has his tea waiting when he returns.
Heunzips and pulls his jacket off, laying it over the helmet.He’swell built, defined muscles that can’t be hidden by his black t-shirt with the words,BeinganEMTis easy.It’slike riding a bike.Ihave to squint a little to read the smaller text.
“Exceptthe bike is on fire.You’reon fire.Everythingis on fire,”Iread out loud.
Weboth laugh.
“It’strue,” he states.
“Soyou’re anEMT?”
“Iam,” he answers. “Wait…”Heshakes his finger at me. “Thedomestic call at theGarrett’sinAlta.Youwere there.”
Iblink, searching my memory of that horrible experience.Iremember theEMTs, butIam not sureIlooked closely at either of them.Imean,IknewO’Connell, but they weren’t really on my radar that night.
Inod. “Yeah.Iwas there.”
Hesmirks. “Inever forget a face.Sohow about you?Whereare you heading?”
“ToChicagoto become an architect, wellI’mgoing to study to become one, anyway.”
Hedoesn’t seem fazed thatI’ma student but instead nods his head.
“Isthat really what you want to do?”
