Maya and the Fluorescent Aisle at the Grocery Store

Maya and the Fluorescent Aisle at the Grocery Store

I was at the grocery store after work, still in my office clothes, trying to find the pasta aisle, but the layout kept mixing with my old high school hallway. I turned a corner and there was Maya from accounting, except she also felt a bit like this girl I sat next to in chemistry senior year. She smiled like she knew me better than she does and asked if I wanted to split a cart because the line was getting long. I kept losing track of what I was buying. Every time I looked at her, I felt that stupid flutter like I was fifteen, and I couldn’t remember if we were coworkers or if I’d already asked her out. We walked forever down the same fluorescent aisle. I wanted to say something normal and instead I just handed her my phone because I thought I’d dropped it, even though it was still in my pocket. When I woke up I was embarrassed how much I wanted her to text first.