Partners in Crime

Click-clack, click-clack, click-clack. My typing was annoyingly loud. I remember as a child I used to wake up at the brink of dawn and log into my computer to use this online typing test that I was obsessed with. The typing test showed how fast you could type with WPM. The only problem is that now my typing speed has increased but I can’t seem to type quieter. 

My siblings used to hate this so they threw pillows at me until I was banished to the living room. Little runts. Even if we didn’t get along much as kids, I still really miss them. My older sister is in Canada right now (living the free healthcare life!). My younger sister is out and about in Chicago doing who knows what. I guess that's one of the depressing parts of adulthood no one tells you about; living away from the people that make home home. 

“No!” I shouted. I have just lost this ridiculously obsessive snake game on my laptop. I cautiously checked to see if anyone was watching me from my cubicle. Phew. I was supposed to be working on finances for the company. If you saw the excel sheet I was working on, you’d have the same reaction!

“Adara, may I speak to you for a moment, please?” I switched tabs as quickly as I could and calmly turned around. Growing up in a strict household really teaches you how to lie and act normal no matter the circumstances. 

I smiled. “Of course.” She led me down the prison-like hall and took a right. We stood in front of her office. Her office was exactly like the rest of the building; dull and boring. 

She carefully took out keys from her skirt pocket (I need a skirt pocket desperately) and fumbled around with the lock. Ever since the break-in three months ago, she’s put a lock on her door to make sure it never happens again. Talk about being prepared. 

The robber broke into her office (there was no lock so the robber technically didn’t break-in) and stole her macbook, two dress suits from her closet, her pure diamond engagement ring, and her pair of raycon wireless earbuds. It was a catastrophe. Some of the evidence suggested that it was an employee. I have some suspects in mind, but the last time I tried bringing it up, my boss just shooed the idea off and insisted that she trusts her workers. 

After fumbling with the doorknob for a solid thirty seconds, she opened the door to her office. No employee has been in here since the break-in so I looked around, trying to get used to her office again. It was still as bland as ever.

“Take a seat, Adara,” the boss said. I cautiously sat in the white leather rolling chair that sat across from her. She placed her hands onto the desk. “As you know, we have a holiday party on the 20th every year.” Oh no. “I know you don’t celebrate Christmas or any winter holidays but I would love for you to come. You’ve just worked so hard these past few months and I want you to relax, sit back, and enjoy for once.” I wanted to tell her that my idea of relaxation is sitting in my one-room apartment living room, cuddled onto the couch with my cat Willow with no human interaction and a cup of hot chocolate. 

“I would love to!” I said instead. 

She smiled. “We’re actually doing a potluck this year, so if you can, could you bring your mother’s samosas? If not, it is totally fine.” I would love to bring my mom’s samosas, however, my mom and I aren’t exactly in contact anymore. She lives extremely close to my apartment so it’s a miracle that we haven’t bumped into each other. Everytime I see her face or see her face I’m reminded of my terrible teenage years. She used to yell at me no matter what I did. I was working a part-time job, had an IB diploma, president of SGA and other clubs, kept up with my social life, and managed to join two sports teams at my school. Despite all of that, she still didn’t have the slightest grace on my mental deprivation. I was yelled at every morning the second I woke up for my grades. You want to know what my grades were? I had an A+ in five of my classes, an A- in one, and a C in one class. Those are actually pretty good grades considering everything else in my life. I now understand that my mom just wanted the best, but those few years of my life were absolute hell.

Instead, I smiled. “I’ll try my best to bring those samosas, but I’m not completely sure because I’ve been very busy lately.” That was a lie. 

“Great!”

Sigh. I was cuddled onto my cream colored couch with my cat Willow and was having an amazing time until I remembered my mom’s samosas. The holiday party was a day away and I haven’t even called my mom. Ok. I can do this. Heart beating rapidly, I grabbed my purse from the door knob in my room and put my mom’s phone number on the dial. Bzz-bzz. That ringing sound my phone makes didn’t help calm my nerves at all.

Someone picked up the phone.

“Hello?” my mom said. I haven’t heard her voice in ages. Nightmares of my teenage years began flooding back. I’ve already come this far, I can’t back down now.

I gulped. “H-hi mama, it’s me, Adara.” I heard a gasp on the other side of the phone.

“Adara, honey,” mom squeaked. “Why haven’t you called me? I’ve tried calling you all these years and you haven’t answered or picked up. What’s going on?”

Oh no. I could feel tears burning at the back of my eyes. “Why are you acting like you don’t remember?” I snapped. There is no way I’m letting her forget. 

“Honey, I’m sorry. I regret it. I do. I just really need to see my daughter again.”

It was silent for a few seconds before I spoke. “I’m coming over.”

After talking to my mom for god knows how long, we went shopping for the ingredients you need in samosas. I’ll admit, I was a little tense at first. I thought she’d be madder or start yelling again, but instead I felt peaceful. I haven’t spent time with people in a while and it felt nice to know I had someone who cared. 

 After frying the samosas and putting them into a woven basket, I headed back home with my Honda CRV. Once I got home I hastily put the samosas into the warmer so that they wouldn’t turn stale the next day. I checked my pink watch from Five-below (I know, cheap!). 10:00pm?? I thought. I really need to get to sleep. I changed into my pajamas, closed the light in the living room before running back to my bedroom so that the darkness demons wouldn’t catch me. As I closed my eyes and fell into a deep sleep, I dreamt of scenarios where the party would turn out to be as horrible as I expected it to be. 

I woke up to blurry vision and eye crust. Rubbing my eyes, I checked my clock. 9:30am. Oh no. The party was at 11:00am. Shoot. I quickly hurled myself out of bed. No time to fold. I brushed my teeth, did my morning prayers, and ran to the closet in less than 10 minutes. 

Hmm. What should I wear? I thought. Not like there’s many options. I grabbed a simple dress. It went up to my ankles and was sage green with puffy sleeves at the sides. I threw on a cream colored hijab and ran out the door with my keys in hand. I started up the engine then realized I forgot something. Oh no. The samosas. 

I ran as fast as the laws of physics could take me without locking my car. Who cares, anyways? It’s not like a thief would want to steal my three-year old starburst I had kept in my car. As I made it into my house, I opened up the warmer, grabbed the samosas, and headed out into my car. Not caring what the police thought, I accelerated at 40 miles per hour and finally arrived at the party. 

As I walked in, I almost didn’t recognize the prison-like workplace. Holiday decorations filled up the room and made it look almost magical. Oh no. Everyone here was wearing red, green, or white. Great, now I’m sticking out like a sore thumb. Thankfully, most people were already here so the attention wasn’t turned to me. If I creeped around everyone, maybe I could get away without talking to anyone-

“Oh my gosh? Adara?!” Meghan shouted. Oh no. 

I plastered on my lovely fake smile. “Hey!”

“I’m so happy you finally made it to a holiday party! How’s it been going?” Meghan said, smiling. She was a co-worker of mine that I hated for no reason. Okay maybe there was a reason. I was jealous. She always has the perfect outfits, a perfect smile, perfect skin, perfect hair, perfect body, perfect personality. Everything about her was better. 

“I’m doing great! How about you?” 

Meghan pouted. “I broke up with my boyfriend, but you know it’s all good. I guess he wasn’t meant for me.” She shrugged.

“I’m sorry that happened,” I said, standardly. As Meghan and I chatted it up, some of my other co-workers began to join the conversation and before I knew it, I was overcoming one of my greatest fears; social interaction. It was….surprisingly great. 

Meghan was wearing a red dress suit with a black stain at the breast pocket. Hm. That’s weird. The boss had a dress suit exactly like that with a black stain at the breast pocket. Weird. As if my mind had somehow been read, the boss came up to the two of us. Meghan tensed up a little.

“Hellooo ladies!” she said, holding a red cup of booze. Oh god, she is definitely drunk. “I adore that suit you’re wearing, Meg. It looks so familiar!”

Meghan awkwardly smiled. “Y-yeah! I got this at Macy’s!” I guess Meghan had been the one I’ve been suspecting the whole time. I knew something was up with her. She was definitely the culprit of the office robbery. Slowly, I tapped Meghan on the shoulder and led her into the hallway. Thankfully, the boss was too drunk to notice.

“What is it?” Meghan said, confused. 

I gaped at her like it was obvious. “You’re wearing the stolen dress suit.” That was a little too blunt.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she lied. “I bought this by myself at Macy’s.”

Rolling my eyes, I said, “The receipt?” 

“I don’t carry it wherever I go, silly,” Meghan said. “And besides, I saw you stealing all those donuts she used to buy. If you keep my secret, I’ll keep yours.” 

Oh shoot. She’s good. “Deal.” We shook hands firmly. 

“I guess you could literally call us partners in crime,” she winked. We both cracked up even if that was one of the cheesiest things a person could say. 

I smiled. “Partners in crime.”

I guess you could say I had one sweet holiday.