Chapter 42: Biscuits (2)
El stared at the door.
Someone knocked.
Demi is on the ground floor.
He couldn't have knocked.
So who—
Knock. Knock. Knock.
His heart stopped.
The knocking came again.
Louder this time.
Knock. KNOCK. KNOCK.
Oreo lifted her head from the sofa. Blinked at the door. Then went back to sleep.
Even the cat isn't worried.
Even the cat knows something I don't.
Or maybe—
Maybe I'm just hearing things.
Maybe I'm just tired.
Maybe I'm just losing my mind.
His phone buzzed.
DEMI: Okay I'm at your door now. Stop ignoring me.
El stared at the screen.
He's at my door.
He came up.
He knocked.
It was him.
It was always him.
I'm just—
He opened the door.
Demi stood there. Chip bag in hand. Grinning.
"Took you long enough. I've been knocking for like five minutes."
El stared at him.
"You knocked."
"Yes. I knocked. That's what people do when they visit other people. They knock."
"But you said—"
"I said I was on the ground floor. Then I walked up. That's how stairs work, El. Basic physics."
El's jaw tightened. "You said you didn't knock."
"I said I didn't knock from the ground floor. Because I couldn't. I was too far away."
"You're impossible."
"I'm accurate. There's a difference."
Demi pushed past him. Walked into the apartment. Looked around.
"Nice place. Very you. Very beige. Very sad."
El closed the door.
Leaned against it.
It was just Demi.
Just Demi being Demi.
No stranger.
No figure.
No shadow.
Just Demi.
Just—
"Come on." Demi grabbed his arm.
"We have a date. Remember? For your mental health. Doctor's orders."
"You're not a doctor."
"I play one in my head."
Demi pulled him toward the door.
El looked back at the apartment. At the door. At the hallway.
No one was there.
No one knocked.
It was just Demi.
Just Demi.
Always Demi.
---
LANDSBURGE STREETS – NIGHT
The air was cool. Not cold. Just... different.
Demi walked beside him. Chip bag crinkling.
"So," Demi said, "where are we going?"
El shrugged. "You planned this."
"I planned the date. Not the location. There's a difference."
"You're impossible."
"You've said that already. Twice. You're losing your creativity."
They walked in silence for a moment.
Streetlights glowed against the pavement. The city hummed in the distance.
"This is nice," Demi said.
"What is?"
"This. Walking. No loops. No dream girls. No existential crises. Just two friends. One night. Zero emotional baggage."
"You brought chips."
"Emotional support chips. They don't count."
El almost smiled. Almost.
They passed a small park. Empty benches. Dark trees.
Demi stopped. "Let's sit."
El looked at him. "On the bench?"
"No, on the grass. Yes, on the bench. What's wrong with you?"
El sat.
Demi sat beside him.
The bench was cold. Or maybe that was him.
Demi stared at the sky.
"You know, for someone who's supposedly trapped in a time loop, you're really bad at relaxing."
El didn't answer.
The knocking stopped.
But the feeling didn't.
Someone was there.
Someone was watching.
Someone—
"El."
He looked at Demi.
"You're doing the staring thing again. The 'I'm about to see things that aren't there' thing."
"I'm fine."
"You're not fine. You're never fine. That's your whole brand."
Demi crunched a chip.
"But that's okay. I'm not fine either. No one's fine. Fine is a lie people tell themselves so they don't have to admit they're falling apart."
El looked at him. "That's... surprisingly deep."
"I have moments. Rare. But they happen."
They sat in silence.
The city hummed.
The stars were hidden behind clouds.
This is nice.
This is normal.
This is what he needed.
Not answers.
Not clues.
Not Kaye.
Just Demi.
Just silence.
Just a bench in a park at night.
"So," Demi said, "tell me about your feelings."
"I don't have feelings."
"Everyone has feelings. You just bury yours under spreadsheets and caffeine."
"That's not—"
"That's therapy, El. Bad therapy. But still therapy."
El sighed. "I don't know what to say."
"Say anything. Say something. Say 'Demi, you're the best friend anyone could ask for and I don't deserve you.'"
"I'm not saying that."
"Fine. Say 'Demi, you're moderately acceptable and I tolerate you.'"
El's eyebrow twitched. "You're moderately acceptable."
Demi gasped. "That's the nicest thing you've ever said to me."
"Don't get used to it."
"Too late. I'm already printing t-shirts."
El almost smiled. Almost.
This is normal.
This is what normal looks like.
Bad jokes. Chips. A bench in a park at night.
No loops.
No lost days.
No dying gardens.
Just Demi.
Just... this.
"Hey." Demi's voice was softer now.
"I know I don't believe you. About the loops. About the dream girl. About all of it."
El's chest tightened.
"But that doesn't mean I'm not here."
Demi looked at him.
"You're my best friend, El. If you're going through something — whatever it is — I'm here. Even if I don't understand it."
El looked at him.
He doesn't believe me.
But he's still here.
He's always still here.
"I know," El said quietly.
Demi nodded. Pushed off the bench.
"Good. Now come on. I need more chips. And you need more air. And we both need to pretend we're functional adults."
He walked toward the street.
El followed.
---
They walked in silence.
Demi crunched his chips. El stared at the pavement.
The city hummed around them. Streetlights glowed. The occasional car passed.
Then El saw her.
Across the street. Kneeling down. Hand reaching toward something small and furry.
A cat.
Black and white. Skinny. Tail flicking.
And the woman feeding it —
Mira.
El stopped.
Demi kept walking for two more steps. Then noticed. Turned back.
"El? What—"
He followed El's gaze. His eyes widened.
"Is that—"
"Mira."
"What is she doing here?"
El didn't answer.
He didn't know.
He couldn't know.
He wasn't her.
He could only see her.
Across the street.
Kneeling in the dark.
Feeding a cat that wasn't hers.
Demi squinted. "Isn't that our boss? The scary one? The one who freezes people with her eyes?"
"Yes."
"What is she doing in this neighborhood?"
"I don't know."
"She lives like twenty minutes away."
"I know."
"So why is she here?"
El didn't answer.
He didn't know.
He couldn't know.
He wasn't her.
He could only wonder.
Mira looked up.
Their eyes met across the street.
She didn't look surprised. Didn't look away.
Just... looked.
Demi whispered, "Dude. She's staring at you."
"I see that."
"That's not a normal boss stare. That's a 'I drove to this neighborhood at night' stare."
"It's just a stare."
"It's not just a stare. It's a stare."
El ignored him.
Mira stood. Brushed off her pants. Crossed the street.
The cat followed her for a few steps. Then stopped. Sat down. Watched.
Mira stopped in front of El.
"El."
"Mira."
Demi looked between them.
"Hi. I'm also here. Demi. Remember me? The funny one? The one who eats chips?"
Mira glanced at him. "Demi."
"Just checking. You looked at me like I was furniture."
"You're not furniture."
"Thank you."
"You're a fire hazard."
Demi clutched his chest. "That's the nicest thing you've ever said to me."
Mira turned back to El.
"I couldn't sleep."
El nodded.
She didn't explain why.
He didn't ask.
Demi looked between them. Confused. "Wait. How did you know he was here?"
"I didn't."
"Then why are you here?"
Mira glanced at the cat.
"I feed her sometimes. She lives around here."
Demi squinted. "You drive twenty minutes to feed a stray cat?"
"She's alone."
"So is every other stray cat in the city."
Mira didn't answer.
Demi looked at El. El shrugged.
"Okay," Demi said slowly.
"So you're here. Feeding a cat. In El's neighborhood. At night."
"Yes."
"And you just happened to run into us."
"Yes."
Demi stared at her. "That's a weird coincidence."
"Yes."
He waited for her to explain more.
She didn't.
"Okay," Demi said.
"I'm going to eat my chips now."
He crunched loudly.
Mira looked at the cat. Then at El.
"I should go."
"You just got here."
"I know." She paused.
"But I wanted to see if you were okay. I saw you. You're okay. So I'll go."
Demi stopped chewing.
"Wait. You drove here to check on him?"
Mira didn't answer.
Demi looked at El.
"Did you know she was coming?"
"No."
"Then how—"
"I don't know."
Demi stared at him. Then at Mira. Then back at El.
"This is weird," he said.
"This is really weird. I feel like I'm in a movie. A romantic movie. With bad lighting."
Neither of them responded.
Demi sighed. "Fine. I'll just... stand here. With my chips. And my confusion."
Mira looked at El.
"Goodnight, El."
"Goodnight, Mira."
She walked back across the street.
The stray cat followed her.
Demi waited until she was gone. Then: "What was that?"
"I don't know."
"She drove here. To check on you."
"I know."
"At night."
"I know."
"And you didn't know she was coming?"
"No."
"But she came anyway."
"Yes."
Demi stared at him.
"That's not normal, El. That's not boss behavior. That's not coworker behavior. That's—"
"I know."
"You know?"
"It's weird. I know."
Demi was quiet for a moment.
"She likes you."
"She's our boss."
"So?"
"So nothing. She's just... being nice."
Demi stared at him. "You're hopeless."
"I'm aware."
"Come on," Demi said. "Let's go home. I need to process this. And eat more chips."