Chapter 9: Next up
The next day felt impossibly long, as if the world had decided to slow down just to mess with me. I woke up to the sound of my phone buzzing and fumbled to grab it, still groggy. It was a message from Irene.
“Morning! Hope you survived the wrath of your mom ;)”
I smiled, rereading the message a couple of times before responding.
“Barely. I’m grounded for the day, so no wild adventures for me.”
Her reply came almost instantly.
“Grounded, huh? Adorable. I’ll try not to have too much fun camping with my friends without you.”
Camping. My heart sank a little, imagining her laughing around a campfire with her friends, probably looking effortlessly cool and radiant as ever. But before I could spiral into overthinking, another message popped up.
“But seriously, let’s meet during the week. How about Thursday? You like curry?”
I sat up in bed, my heart doing its now-familiar jittery dance. She wanted to see me again. On Thursday. For curry. I typed back so quickly I nearly dropped the phone.
“I love curry! Thursday sounds perfect.”
Her next message was a single smiley face, but it was enough to send me into a whirlwind of excitement. I tossed the phone onto the bed and jumped up, practically bouncing around the room.
“Irene wants to see me again!” I muttered to myself, as if saying it out loud would make it feel more real.
Naturally, the next step was to text Alice.
Me: Irene wants to meet again! Thursday! She asked if I like curry!!
Alice: Wow, exclamation marks much? You’re obsessed.
Me: I can’t help it! She’s amazing.
Alice: I’m happy for you, but you’re literally going crazy over her. Chill. Breathe. Eat something.
I laughed, knowing she was right. But it didn’t stop me from sending her another message.
Me: There’s something else.
Alice: Of course there is. Spill.
Me: I feel like I know her. Like, I’ve known her forever. Even on the date, it was like… déjà vu or something. Familiar, but deeper.
Alice: …Okay, that’s weird. I’m calling you.
My phone rang a moment later, and I picked up, flopping back onto the bed. “Hey.”
“Hey,” Alice said, her tone curious. “Okay, explain this whole ‘I feel like I know her’ thing.”
I hesitated, trying to put the feeling into words. “It’s like… when I’m with her, I don’t feel awkward or nervous, not really. It’s not that I don’t have those feelings—I do—but it’s like I know how to be with her. Like I already know her rhythm, her energy, who she is. It’s weird but comforting. Like we’re meant to fit together.”
Alice was quiet for a moment. “That sounds intense.”
“It is,” I admitted. “But it also feels right. I can’t explain it. And when we were together—during the night and the day after—I felt this connection, like we’re… I don’t know, meant for each other.”
Alice hummed thoughtfully. “Hold on a sec.”
I heard shuffling on the other end, and then the unmistakable sound of her tarot cards being shuffled. I raised an eyebrow, though she couldn’t see it. “What are you doing?”
“Making a spread,” she said casually. “This is too weird not to consult the cards.”
I waited, listening as she muttered under her breath, laying out the cards. A moment later, she gasped. “Oh my God.”
“What?!” I sat up, my heart racing.
“The cards—Emma, it’s all here. Soulmate bond, karmic connection, the whole nine yards. This is big. Like, universe-level big.”
I stared at the ceiling, my mind spinning. “What does that even mean?”
“It means,” Alice said dramatically, “that this relationship is fated. You and Irene are tied together, like, cosmically.”
I groaned, burying my face in my pillow. “Great. No pressure.”
Alice laughed. “Relax. Just see where it goes. It’s not like you’re proposing or anything.”
Her words echoed in my mind long after we hung up. Was Irene feeling the same thing? Or was this just me, swept up in my own emotions? I wanted to know—needed to know—but I also didn’t want to scare her away. After all, you can’t ask someone to marry you after just one date.
As the week went on, my excitement grew. Irene and I texted sporadically—mostly light and playful messages, with the occasional flirty comment that made my cheeks burn.
“I hope you’re ready for the best curry of your life,” she wrote on Wednesday.
“Bring it on,” I replied, trying to sound confident.
By the time Thursday rolled around, I was a bundle of nerves and excitement. I spent an embarrassing amount of time choosing an outfit, settling on something casual but cute—a soft sweater and my favorite jeans. I wanted to look like I wasn’t trying too hard, even though I absolutely was. After I got an “okay, stay out of trouble” from mom, I took off.
I arrived at Irene’s place just as the sun was beginning to set, the golden light casting a soft glow over the tall windows of her building. She greeted me at the door, her smile as dazzling as ever. This time, instead of a leather jacket, she wore an apron over a simple t-shirt and jeans, her hair slightly mussed as though she’d been rushing around the kitchen.
“Ready for curry night?” she asked, her voice warm and inviting.
“Absolutely,” I said, stepping inside, the smell of spices hitting me instantly. “It already smells amazing in here.”
She grinned, leading me to the kitchen. “Don’t get too excited yet. It’s still a work in progress.”
The kitchen was large, more like a dining hall, with sleek white counters lining the right wall and a spacious dining table surrounded by soft, cushioned benches in the center. The atmosphere was bright and airy, sunlight streaming in through tall windows that overlooked the street. Irene moved around effortlessly, her movements smooth and confident as she added the finishing touches to dinner.
“Can I help with anything?” I asked, stepping closer.