My laptop propelled itself out of my arms, made a skidding, crunching sound, and bounced a few feet away from me. I cringed. Despite the fact that I had just been hit by a car, the first thought that came to my mind was, Oh shit! My laptop’s toast!
My life was in that machine. At MS, your laptop was like another appendage; it was an extension of how you functioned. If my hard drive was damaged, I was screwed. If the hard drive was somehow saved, but the machine no longer functioned properly, then waiting a week to get it fixed would be like trying to walk with one foot.
The fact that I had just been hit by a car didn’t really seem to faze me and I was quickly getting over my worry about the laptop. The fact that I might be late to my interview was freaking me out a bit. The worst first impression you could make in an interview was to be late for it. It translated into this person is unreliable and inconsiderate of my time. Not to mention, I had less time now to mentally prepare for my five hour grilling.
I looked around on my hands and knees to locate my laptop. I spotted my machine a few feet away and noticed the battery had fallen out. Shit. Shit. Please let it be okay. As I attempted to scramble back up into a standing position, I noticed one of my Jimmy Choo heels, the ones I bought in Palm Springs last winter, had fallen off. I was relieved to find that the heel was still attached and started crawling towards it.
“Oh my God, are you okay?” The nearby voice was concerned and alarmed. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t see you!”
I didn’t turn. I was so focused on getting my shoe and my laptop and the stupid battery and onto my interview that the voice was just white noise.
He asked again more urgently, “Are you okay? I didn’t see you step off the sidewalk so quickly.”
Still in shock, I looked up and found myself looking into the most arresting blue eyes. They were the shade of the ocean just before a summer storm, almost a gray blue. The color suggested calm, but they were anything but. They were anxious and distressed and I sighed as a wrinkle set between them. I fought the urge to reach out rub it back to a smooth, unfurrowed state.
“Oh, I think that was our fault,” said another voice.
I looked towards the direction of the second voice and saw it was one of the soccer players. His face had a pained, guilty look. I hoped I didn’t lose their ball.
I felt pressure pulling me up by my arm, which shook me somewhat out of my accident-induced haze. Looking at Mr. Blue Eyes’ face again, I blinked a few times to get my bearings. Wow … Not bad. His hand on my arm felt warm and tingly and very comforting. He smelled so good, too, like soap and … what was that wonderful smell?
While I tried to identify the intoxicating scent, I realized he was talking to me again.
“I’m so sorry … Are you okay?” He really did look very concerned. “Do you need me to call for an ambulance?”
I did a quick mental inventory of my body parts. Nothing felt misaligned or in pain. In a panic, I blurted out, “Oh God, no! No, please don’t. I’m fine. Really!”
The thought of sitting in an ambulance or having some emergency team tend to me in the open MS campus was mortifying. My interview! By now, I probably had less than ten minutes to get there. I would need to run to make it on time. I tried to gather the rest of my things with as much composure and dignity as my panicked state would allow me.
“I’m okay, you only just bumped me,” I replied, frazzled. “I’m late for an interview, though, so I have to run.” I stood up as straight as my 5’5” frame would let me and did a little shimmy, trying to shake myself out of my momentary state of shock. I brushed my white blouse and black pencil skirt down tidily, put my heel back on, and tried to pat and primp my long dark brown hair to make sure it wasn’t disheveled before my interview. “Really, I’m fine,” I said. “It’s not a big deal.”
When I looked back up at Mr. Blue Eyes, I caught him watching me and noticed he had a slightly amused expression. He quickly caught himself and the furrowed brow returned. He spoke slowly with his head slightly tilted to his left. “Uh … I just hit you with my car.” He paused to let that realization sink in with me, because I was obviously behaving unlike any sane person would’ve after having been hit by a car. “Don’t you want to discuss it more and we can make sure you’re okay? I feel really terrible about this.”
I just stared back at him with a blank expression. His face was completely mesmerizing. Car. Interview. Blue eyes. Car. Interview. Blue eyes. Shit! Late!
He placed a hand on each of my arms, steadying me, and looked into my eyes. His pupils moved back and forth, left to right. His face was so close I could feel his breath. He did the once over look down my body, pausing slightly at my legs, and back up to my eyes. Satisfied that I didn’t appear to have any injuries, he stared deeper into my eyes.