A Call From the Past
It was near the end of May when I got off my night shift and got a call from my younger self, right before the SAT.
"Eight years from now, am I happy? Am I living abroad, or working at Collins Corporation?
"Charlotte said I don't need the SAT. She's taking me overseas."
He sounded excited, already planning to spend the next few days doing whatever he wanted.
I looked down at the grease on my uniform. Behind me was a cramped factory dorm, a cramped room packed with 12 beds.
"Charlotte's getting married today," I said. "But you're not the groom."
He sucked in a breath. "That's impossible. She said she'd marry me."
Last night, Charlotte Collins texted me.
[Don't come tomorrow. You work at a factory. You'll embarrass me.]
His voice caught. "Who is it? Do I know him?"
I said calmly, "Open the math worksheet in your bag. Finish it, and I'll tell you who she's marrying."
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