Chapter 12 Noelle
12 Noelle
“Dumplings?” Cam asks, gesturing to a booth.
“Not tonight,” I say. “That’s what I had for lunch.” And it’s been the main food group in my diet for a while now. “Feel free to get them for yourself, though. Those ones are pretty good.”
“Yeah?”
“I had them at a festival, um, earlier this year.”
Yes, it’s a little awkward that I can’t tell the entire truth about my life, but it’s nice being at the market with Cam. I’ve been here countless times before, yet it feels different tonight. Like I’m seeing it with fresh eyes. There’s an older couple dancing to the music. I vaguely remember them from before, but now the sight makes me smile. I examine the cupcake booth, wondering which flavor Avery would enjoy most. Perhaps I shouldn’t wait until I escape the loop to do something for her birthday.
We turn down another row. I place my hand on Cam’s arm so we don’t get separated in the crowd. He doesn’t seem to mind, which is excellent, because now that I’ve started touching him, I don’t want to stop.
Cam is no longer wearing a Leaside Brewing shirt: he’s put on a plain navy T-shirt instead. Nothing fancy, but this is just a casual date, even if I am an heiress.
He comes to a stop. “How do you feel about bulgogi poutine?”
“Could be weird, but I’d definitely try it.”
“Okay. I’ll get it and you can taste some of mine.”
He smiles. Even though he smiles a lot, that doesn’t dim the impact. I feel like he’s just glad to be here with me.
“Sounds like a plan,” I say.
“What are you thinking?”
I look around, and my gaze lands on a place selling samosa chaat. I gesture to the picture.
“How about we get our food, and I meet you over there”—he points to the benches—“when we’re done?”
I nod my assent and give his arm a squeeze before standing in line. I watch the young woman deftly assemble my dish with chickpeas, samosa pieces, yogurt, two different chutneys, and small pieces of crispy noodle. Then I grab a napkin and head to the benches. Cam isn’t here yet, and since I’m at the market at a different time from usual, there’s seating available. I sit down and wait for him.
A few minutes later, he still hasn’t arrived, and I start to worry. What if he’s abandoned me? What if there was a beautiful woman next to him in line, one who actually knows something about beer, and—
“Hey.” He’s suddenly standing in front of me. “Something wrong?”
“Nope! All good.” I don’t want to admit that my brain had started spiraling. “Your poutine has cheese curds.”
“Of course. It wouldn’t be poutine without them.”
“I’m not sure it goes with bulgogi and everything else there.”
He shrugs. “We’ll find out.”
I recall the first time I met him at the market. He was carrying a tray of food then—was it also the poutine? Or does he eat something else on June 20 if he’s not on a date with me?
Cam sits beside me, his leg brushing mine, as though we’ve tacitly agreed to conserve space so that someone else can use the other end of the bench.
Or, you know, we just want to touch each other.
I release an undignified giggle.
“What’s up?” Cam asks.
“I’m just, uh…” I decide to be honest. “I’m happy to be here. So much good food—though I still have reservations about yours—and good weather.”
“And good company, I hope.” He winks at me.
“Yeah. It’s not often that I get to socialize with regular, down-to-earth people who…” I don’t know much about being rich, to be honest. “Don’t own multiple vacation homes.”
I’m running this joke into the ground, but he doesn’t seem to mind, and he’ll forget this tomorrow anyway.
Actually, I prefer not to think about that. Even if I’m acting this way because there are no consequences, a part of me still hates the idea of him forgetting it.
I use some hand sanitizer, then dive into my food. I start with a little piece of samosa and chutney, which is deliciously tangy.
“Good?” Cam asks.
I’m still chewing, so I merely nod.
The smile slides off his face, and he pauses with a fry halfway to his mouth. “I just had the strangest sense of déjà vu. Like, I’ve been here before, at this market with you.”
I stiffen and think of the first time I saw him. I was crying on this very bench.
“Yeah?” I say with a casualness I don’t feel.
“But I have the sense it wasn’t happy.”
“Do you know what causes déjà vu?”
“I think it’s due to processing errors in the brain. I guess you just made my brain misfire.”
In his case, I suspect the déjà vu is caused by something different, though I don’t understand exactly why it’s happening.
“Well, I’m honored,” I say, not sharing my suspicions.
He laughs, and I marvel at the fact that I’m sitting here with him, after all those failed attempts at kissing.
He eats a fry and a piece of bulgogi dotted with green onions and some kind of sauce. Then he holds the paper tray of fries toward me. I help myself, making sure I get both bulgogi and a cheese curd.
“Not bad,” I say, “but mine’s better.” I hold it out so he can sample.
We eat our food in contented silence for a minute. Although we’re not making conversation, there’s lots of noise around us: food sizzling on a grill, children shrieking, K-pop in the background. The aromas of many different cuisines mingle together… and then there’s Cam’s clean, soapy scent.
“What did you do before the brewery?” I ask.
“I have a degree in life sciences.”
“Were you planning on going to med school? Did you go to med school?”
“Nah. For a while, that was my plan, but I didn’t have the marks for it. Worked in a lab for a couple of years.”
I tilt my head, trying to picture him in a lab.
He chuckles. “Yeah, I didn’t love it. Then my friend Darrell got into brewing, and I became interested too. Quit my job to work at a brewery in the east end, took some classes, and a few years later, this happened.” He gestures at his shirt. “Oops. Forgot I changed.”
“You put on a fancy outfit for your date.”
He holds my gaze for a long beat, and eventually, I have to look away because it’s too much. I’ve lived this day numerous times, yet it’s never been like this . It makes me wonder about all the other routes my life might have taken, if one day had gone a little differently. Maybe some random choices on a March 7 could have altered my path.
“You’ve got some chutney… there.” He points to the corner of his mouth.
I reach up to wipe it away.
“No, other side.” He leans toward me, his face just a few inches from mine.
My heart thumps quickly in anticipation. My skin prickles in awareness. He’s so close, his lips parted ever so slightly.
This is it. He’s going to kiss me.
But then he hands me a napkin, and I paper over my disappointment with a smile and an overzealous “Thanks!”
Once we toss our empty trays in a nearly overflowing trash bin, we continue walking around the market. Night is starting to fall, and now it feels more like, well, a night market. Strands of lights twinkle against the darkening sky.
“Dessert?” Cam asks.
We survey the options, and I settle on halo-halo, something I’ve never had in my many trips to this market. He considers getting cheesecake but ultimately goes with red-bean taiyaki.
The benches are full now, and I hesitate before leading him up the stairs and around the civic center. Despite the busyness of the market, it’s not crowded here, but there’s no place to sit, so we lean against the wall instead. We’re not alone, not really, but it’s as good as we can do before my ube ice cream melts.
The ice cream is delicious, but the flan—oh, the flan is possibly the best thing I’ve ever eaten in my life, and I close my eyes and groan. It feels unfair that I’m enjoying this by myself, so I pick up a tiny piece with my spoon and hold it to Cam’s lips. He tastes it, and I try not to be jealous of a fucking plastic spoon for the contact it gets with his mouth.
Once we’ve finished eating, he steps away to throw out my cup, then returns to the wall. I’m leaning with my shoulder against the brick, and he mirrors my pose.
“This was a really good day,” he says.
“Yeah, it was.” My favorite iteration of June 20 so far.
He doesn’t say because of you , and I don’t either.
But I can feel it, unspoken in the air.
“I’m glad my jet touched down in Toronto today,” I say.
Cam chuckles before his expression turns serious. He lifts one hand to cup my cheek, slowly moving it higher until his fingers slide into my hair. There’s lots of opportunity for me to pull away, if that’s what I want.
But I don’t.
When I wrap my arm around his waist, he sets his mouth to mine.
The kiss is a little awkward at first, and I’m probably the one to blame for that. It’s been so long since I kissed someone—not counting that brief attempt with Avery—and we both angle our heads the same way and bump noses. But I persevere—and then it’s exactly right. His arm is secure around my back, which is good, because I feel off-balance.
Again, I blame it on the fact that I haven’t properly kissed anyone in years, but even if I had… I think it’s him, and the wonder of this day. He tastes faintly of sweet red bean, and joy, and magic.
“Noelle,” he murmurs.
Before I can string any words together, he returns to kissing me. My hands toy with the bottom of his shirt, eventually slipping underneath so I can touch his warm skin. God, he feels amazing. I kiss him like there might not be a tomorrow, like this is the only night we have.
“How did you end up at the brewery today?” he whispers.
“I don’t know. I was wandering… and I just did. Even though I’m not much of a beer person. Except for that…” My brain can’t recall the style of beer that I liked. It starts with an h , but that’s as far as I get.
It doesn’t matter, though, because his lips are on mine again, as if he can’t get enough. With Cam, I’m not just some person who fades into the background, who keeps her head down and does her work. I don’t know exactly how he sees me, but I like it. I like—
My phone buzzes insistently in my purse.
“Ignore that.” I grab a fistful of his shirt and pull him closer. I’m not used to feeling so greedy, but—
It keeps buzzing.
“Look,” he says, “as much as I’d like to stay here with you, it’s almost ten o’clock, and I’ve got a busy day tomorrow. I should head home, but if you can keep your jet in the city a little longer, I can spend all of Sunday with you. If you’re interested, that is.”
I try to ignore my disappointment. “Yes, I’d like that very much.”
Which is the truth. I just don’t know if Sunday is a thing that can happen to me. The existence of something as mundane as a Sunday in June? It seems like a miracle now.
But maybe the kissing will break me out of the loop, and I hope it’s this version of June 20 that he remembers. I don’t want to be a stranger to him.
Sure, kissing Avery didn’t work, but that could be because she’s not my true love. After all, in fairy tales, it’s always true love’s kiss that causes a transformation. I can’t believe I’m thinking those words to myself, but there it is.
As we walk to the subway, I circle my hand around Cam’s upper arm, like I did earlier. This time, it’s not so I don’t lose him in the crowd; it’s just so I can maintain our connection a little longer.
Before we head to opposite platforms, he plants a kiss on my cheek.
“See you soon,” he says, and I don’t know how to respond, but he’s walking away already, hands in his pockets.
While waiting for my train, I check my phone to see who interrupted my kiss, but since I’ve never had a text at this time on June 20 before, I have a pretty good idea of who it is. My suspicions are soon confirmed.
AVERY: I broke up with Joe again. But this time, I phrased it differently, and I guess it set him off.
AVERY: OMG I can’t believe I was with him for so long. Do you know what he told me? He said I’d come crawling back because I’d soon realize that I can’t do any better.
AVERY: That I was LUCKY he even took a second look at me
AVERY: That ASSHOLE
Despite the dreamy night I’ve had, it doesn’t take long for fury to build up in my veins. I can’t remember the last time I was so righteously angry on a friend’s behalf, perhaps because it’s been a while since I’ve had a friendship like this.
ME: Ugh. He’s a piece of shit. Do you want to come over so you don’t have to stay there tonight?
AVERY: Yeah. If it’s okay with you?
Avery arrives at my apartment half an hour after I do. Her face is red, and I pull her against me and give her a hug.
“I hope the breakup gets me out of the loop,” she says. “It better. If I wake up next to him again, I might be tempted to smother him with a pillow.”
“I don’t blame you. I hope we both get out of it.” I pause. “I kissed Cam tonight, so maybe that’ll work.”
“Really? I thought you’d given up on it.”
“I walked into a brewery, and there he was, behind the bar. We started talking, and…” I shrug. I don’t want to talk too much about me. Avery’s the more important one right now—she just ended a long-term relationship.
“That’s good,” she says. “I hope us both changing our love lives will do the trick. I’d hate to get out of it by myself, only to find you had no idea who I was.” She covers her face with her hands and releases a very emphatic “ Fuck .”
“Would some food help?” I gesture to the coffee table, where I’ve laid out bags of sour cream and onion, ketchup, and regular chips. I also have Cheetos and Oreos, since I wasn’t sure what she likes. I stopped at a convenience store on the way home.
She hesitates.
“If I don’t have anything you like…” I begin.
“No, no. Just deciding since I can’t eat everything.”
“You could,” I say. “We could dump some of everything into a bowl.” The time loop has made me think of wacky things that never would have occurred to me before. After all, tomorrow—
Well, it might actually be June 21. I want to move forward in life—and I definitely want Cam to remember me—but I still feel a pang at the thought of having actual consequences and not being able to buy any food I like without a care for the cost.
“Nah, I’ll just stick with the sour cream and onion.” Avery grabs a few chips, then offers the bag to me.
I shake my head. “What do you want to do? Do you want to, um, talk about it more?”
God, that sounded awkward.
“Not now. Maybe tomorrow. You said you’re watching Suits , right? Let’s do that. Whatever episode you’re on works for me.”
We watch two before turning in for the night. We fold down the futon, and I get some extra pillows and blankets from the closet. She’s lucky I have them; I’ve never had an overnight guest at this apartment before.
“Noelle?” she says. “No matter what happens, I’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay?”
I nod, then head to my room and turn out the light.
What day will it be when we wake up?