“That’s just great!” Samaira sighed, trying the ignition again, hoping to hear the engine come back to life.
“I give up!” she announced. “The one time I have a valid reason I can’t even use it. I already used the ‘my-car-broke-down’ excuse. Twice!”
Chronically late, Samaira was taking a shorter route to work, pondering over a new excuse to give her boss, until the car busted.
All her adult life, whenever someone called out Samaira for her lack of punctuality, she’d joke, “I hate being late. But, I am so good at it, I don’t want to stop!” She never learned, never changed.
Scrolling through her phone, wondering whom to call for help, Samaira was jolted out of her stupor by the horn of a car. Leaning out was Aaron, whom she quickly recognised as the high school heartthrob from almost a decade ago.
“Do you need help with that, Sam?” Aaron asked with a warm smile.
He knows my name! Wait, how does he know THAT name? Samaira wondered, as she nodded her head in affirmation. As Aaron fixed the car, Samaira abruptly blurted, “How do you know that?” Excitedly, Aaron began to talk about his interest in machines and engines. Samaira clarified, “Stop. I meant, how do you know that name, ‘Sam’? Only my close friends call me that.”