Call Me Again Yesterday

The phone buzzed against my sweaty temples. The air was sour with the stench of stale pizza and sweat that was painted across the hard crusts like sauce. I kicked an empty tissue box across my bedroom floor, and my nose wrinkled as a brown, shiny-backed insect skittered away.

The line connected. ‘Hello, Cassidy speaking,’ a quiet yet hopeful voice said from the other side, as if she was expecting me to tell her she’d won the lottery. Even so, it was a nice change from the begrudged sixteen-year-old boys who had barely gotten their adult voice who usually answered the phone.

My name was Cassidy too. I was going to bring it up but I’d likely never hear from the girl again –she was probably just some worker at one of the greasy fast-food restaurants I had on rotation for at least one meal a day. I even had a spinner –a random name wheel labelled with my favourite meals, though I always secretly hoped it would land on pizza.

‘Hi, I’d like to order a pizza, please,’ I said. ‘Large. Pepperoni. With garlic knots on the side.’

Other Cassidy paused. ‘I think you have the wrong number,’ she said. ‘I’m not –that’s not me. You meant to call someone else.’

‘Sorry, what?’

‘I don’t work at a fast-food place. I’m an intern –a medical student. I’m going to be a doctor,’ she told me proudly.

I felt a gear in my brain shift. My stomach knotted. But I didn’t know why.

‘That’s awesome,’ I said through gritted teeth. ‘Good luck to you. My name’s Cassidy too, by the way.’ It was a sort of jealousy that made me say it –a bitter envy that made me resent her.

‘Oh, nice! I always like finding a name twin.’ Cassidy said gleefully. ‘Well, I won’t keep you any longer. I hope you get your pizza.’

I felt my heart sink in a strange disquiet. Maybe it was just the name, but there was something about Other Cassidy –something pure; something familiar.

‘Thanks,’ I mumbled. ‘I hope medical school goes well. Tough, I hear.’

‘Yep! Pretty hectic schedule. Love it, though. I’ll get to make a difference in people’s lives.’

I sniffed, crumpling up a discarded tissue into the palm of my hand. A bald spot of carpet covered only by specs of dirt stared back at me.

‘Yeah, I thought that too,’ I mused. Other Cassidy was starting to annoy me. ‘Until Joline –m—my sister passed. S –sorry. That won’t happen to you. Guess it was just not meant to be.’ I huffed a laugh; the kind that’s a necessity to dam the river of tears from erupting down your face.

‘Oh, I’m so sorry to hear that,’ Other Cassidy’s voice softened. ‘Wait, um, did you say your sister’s name was Joline? Um, my sister’s name was Joline, too. Um, is. Is Joline.’

‘Oh, cool,’ I said blandly. ‘I guess we have more in common than we thought.’

‘I –I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought that up. Um, are you a student, too? No, I’m sorry. You just said –I’m sorry. I’ll shut up.’

‘No, it’s fine,’ I said quietly. ‘It’s not your fault. I dropped out of med school right before graduating. Just couldn’t handle it all. But it’d be great if Cassidy became a doctor, even if it wasn’t this Cassidy.’

Other Cassidy snorted dryly. ‘I’ve still got half a decade to go,’ she admitted. ‘But I’ll do my best. I actually do work, part time. At a greasy fast-food restaurant. I don’t know why I lied when you called. I guess it’s not something I like to flaunt.’

I could feel my heart pulsing against my ribcage. Among everything else in my room, an apron still with smears of sauce and cheese was buried in the Leaning Tower of Dirty Clothes that I swore I’d wash one day.

‘Is it Domino’s?’

‘Sorry?’

‘I mean, do you work at Domino’s?’

Other Cassidy hesitated. ‘Yeah,’ she said slowly. ‘How’d you know?’

‘Uh, lucky guess, I suppose,’ I muttered. ‘You said you have a sister called Jolene too, right? Was she –is she, um, younger than you? Two years younger? My sister, she was two years younger.’

‘Yeah, she is,’ Other Cassidy said. ‘Wow, crazy how much we have in common.’

‘Yeah, crazy.’ I said wistfully. ‘Would you do me quick a favour?’

‘Yeah, sure. What is it?’ Other Cassidy replied.

‘What’s the date?’ I asked.

‘Uh, let me check,’ Other Cassidy’s voice faded for a moment. ‘July sixteenth.’

‘Thanks. And what year?’

‘Huh?’

‘What year is it?’ I repeated. I could feel my heart in my mouth now.

‘Twenty-seventeen,’ Other Cassidy said, a note of incredulousness in her voice. ‘What’s wrong?’

I couldn’t bring myself to say it. I shuddered, my phone slipping from my hand. My eyes blurred with tears and the screen of my phone clouded with perspiration.

‘I –uh, it’s nothing. Sorry. Just please, promise me, in two years you’ll go get therapy. Don’t quit medical school. There’s so much out there for you, if you only can see it. Promise me, Cassidy.’

There was so much I wanted to say to her. A checklist of things that had gone wrong –that I’d done wrong –that I regretted. That rectifying could put me on another path.

‘I promise?’ Other Cassidy said hesitantly. ‘What’s going on? Are you okay?’

I felt something shift beneath me. Something vanish. My bones pressing against the hard carpet floor, for once in my life. The Leaning Tower of Dirty Clothes vanished, my walls that were painted with dark, greasy streaks faded into colour and were suddenly bedazzled with glossy, framed certificates.

‘Oh my god,’ I breathed. I breathed. The window was open. The spring air was fresh with the scent of pollinated flowers and punctuated by the faint hum of an oscillating fan. ‘Oh my god, Cassidy. You did it. I’m so proud of you.’

‘I did what?’ Other Cassidy spluttered. ‘What’s going on? Is it something to do with the fact that we have the same name?’

‘You’ll figure it out, when the time’s right,’ I said, my voice sounding lighter.

‘I’m hanging up now. I hope things work out for you, name twin.’

The line died and the dial tone played in my ear.

‘You made sure of it.’