Leah on the Offbeat(83)

I can’t believe he didn’t say good-bye.

I thought—I don’t know, it’s stupid, but I thought we had some kind of moment. I mean, the universe basically scooped us up and delivered us to each other. That’s what just happened, right? I don’t even know how else you could interpret it.

Except he vanished. He’s Cinderella at midnight. It’s like he never even existed. And now I’ll never know his name, or how my name sounds when he says it. I’ll never get to show him that the universe isn’t an asshole.

Gone. Totally gone. And the disappointment hits me so hard, I almost double over.

Until my eyes land on the trash can.

Okay. I’m not saying I’m going to dig through the trash. Obviously not. I’m a mess, but I’m not that messy.

But maybe Box Boy is right. Maybe the universe is calling for plan B.

Here’s my question: if a piece of trash never makes it into a trash can, can you even call it trash? Because let’s just imagine—and this is totally hypothetical—let’s say there’s a crumpled shipping label on the floor. Is that trash?

What if it’s a glass slipper?