Past Meets the Present II.
1340 Words
Julius leaned back in his chair, the soft leather creaking beneath him.
“She really doesn’t remember…” he said again, almost in disbelief.
He stared out the window for a moment, his fingers lightly tapping the armrest. The way she bit her lip when she was nervous. Her left-handed scribbles. The streetlamp. The alley.
Zelda, From school. The girl who used to be his academic rival. And now here she was — in his company, his building, working under his roof — clueless to who he was.
He let out a sigh. “What are the odds…”
Zelda sat at the window seat of the half-full bus, one earbud in, the other dangling as the city blurred past her. Her head leaned lightly against the glass.
She replayed the awkward moment in Julius’s office over and over again.
“I don’t owe you an explanation, Miss Zelda.”
Ugh. Why did she say anything?
“Curiosity kills, Zel,” she whispered to herself, tapping her foot nervously. “And apparently embarrasses you too.”
Zelda let out a long, tired sigh. She leaned her head against the cool glass.
"Why did he have to be so mean about it?" she muttered under her breath.
She replayed the scene in her head — the moment their eyes met, the coldness in his voice, the way he shut her down like she’d committed some crime by asking a simple question. ,"If he didn’t want to answer, fine. I mean... there was no need to be a complete jerk," she grumbled.
Her lips pressed into a pout as the bus swayed. “Fixing streetlights like a vigilante and acting like a villain. Make it make sense.”
She shook her head, half-annoyed, half-curious.
She looked out again, lights blurring past. And yet… something about him at her memory.
She swore it was him. His posture, that familiar jawline even with the cap. But why would the CEO of a luxury tech company fix a streetlamp in her run-down neighbourhood?
Flash- Back.
The afternoon sun filtered through the trees as students milled around the school grounds, laughing, chatting, some chasing after each other with unfinished lunch. Zelda and Emily strolled side by side, their arms brushing as they chatted about nothing in particular — the math test, the weird new substitute teacher, and the cute boy from the literature club.
Suddenly, footsteps approached from behind.
“A popsicle for my lady,” came Julius’s voice, playful and smooth as he handed Emily a frosty treat.
Emily blinked. “Thanks?”
Before Zelda could react, Julius turned to her and — flick! — tapped her forehead with two fingers.
“You?” he said with a smirk. “You get nothing. And with that, he turned on his heel and strolled off.
“Ow!” Zelda rubbed her forehead, scowling. Emily burst into laughter. “That boy so likes you.”
“You’re one to talk,” Zelda shot back, "Since when did you become his...
raising her fingers into a mock peace sign, then bent them like claws. ...lady?”
Emily looked down at the popsicle. “It’s your favorite flavor, though.” Zelda crossed her arms, her eyes darting to the icy treat. “Tch. Julius is such a jerk.”
“Do you want the popsicle or not?” "Of course not. Julius touched it.”
Emily shrugged. “Suit yourself.” She tore open the wrapper and took a huge bite. Zelda watched her with the saddest, most pitiful expression — eyes longing, lips pouting. She looked like a puppy who just lost its snack.
Behind a nearby wall, half-hidden by the shade, Julius peeked around the corner.
He saw her face — that cute little pout — and smiled quietly to himself before slipping away unseen.
Present:
Morning at Jewel Tek buzzed with quiet energy. The hum of elevators, the soft chatter of early staff, and the aroma of strong coffee filled the air. Zelda stood tucked by a corner of the atrium, her usual morning latte cupped in both hands. She took a slow sip, her eyes fluttering shut as she savored the rich warmth. "Mmm… perfect," she whispered to herself with a smile.
Across the corridor, Julius walked briskly beside Adrian. The assistant juggled a tablet and a folder, half-walking, half-speed-talking.
“The innovation booth still needs updated specs. You’ll handle the press release briefing. Go tell the Media Sync team to finalise the display transitions for the luxury biometric line.”
“Got it, boss,” Adrian nodded, quickly peeling away. Julius continued toward his office — sharp, calm, distracted — when his eyes fell on her.
Zelda. Standing there with her latte like it was the most divine thing she’d ever tasted. He slowed, lips tugging into a barely-there smirk.
Then, he said it — low, casual, familiar:
“Lil Zee.” Zelda’s eyes flew open. Her heart jumped.
No one had called her that in years. She spun around, wide-eyed, clutching her cup. Her gaze locked onto him.
He was already approaching, unbothered, unreadable — that same confident walk from school.
She stood frozen as he reached her, then—Smack. A light pat to the top of her head.
Smirk. And then he walked past, hands in his pockets, as if he hadn’t just knocked the wind out of her world.
Zelda stood there stunned, her mouth slightly ajar, the warmth of the latte now completely forgotten.
Later that day Zelda sat motionless at her desk, files spread before her like an unfinished puzzle. But the numbers, words — none of it made sense anymore. Her mind was somewhere else entirely.
Julius.
She blinked. That was really him.
Julius Cortez. From high school. From all those moments she tried to bury. The same guy who used to challenge her, tease her, walk past like he ruled the world. Now — her CEO.
Her fingers clenched around her pen as Mr. Ben spoke during their short afternoon team meeting. Something about task rotations and presentation rehearsals. Zelda tried to jot things down. Tried to pay attention.
But all she could do… was stare. Out the window. Into space. Right past everything.
After the meeting ended, she lingered at her desk, motionless. Her thoughts spiraled.
Why him? Why does it have to be him? Why is he here — again? "Why is he everywhere I go?”
Her hand rubbed at her temples.
Why does he always win? Why did she always have to lose?
Pathetic, Zelda. You're pathetic. "Y0ou always said you were better,” she whispered to herself. “Look at you now… working for him.”
Suddenly—
“Something’s definitely troubling you,” Mira’s voice sang out as she leaned over the desk, her chin resting in her hand, smile playful as ever.
Zelda startled slightly. “What? Nothing’s wrong.”
“Oh please,” Mira chuckled, flicking a paperclip at her. “You look like you just got dumped by an imaginary boyfriend.”
Zelda scoffed, eyes wide. “What are you talking about? I’m fine.”
“No you’re not. You can’t lie to me.” Mira gave her a knowing look. “I see everything.”
Zelda blinked.
“I feel everything,” Mira added, her voice lilting as she swayed side to side, like a mystic with a secret.
Then she leaned in closer, grinning. “I know when love meets confusion… and collides with pride.”
Zelda gave her a dry look. “You’re not even making sense.” “I never do,” Mira winked. “That’s what makes me accurate.”
And with that, she patted Zelda on the back with the same chaotic cheer she always carried, then bounced off to her desk like nothing happened.
Zelda sighed, dragging her hand down her face.
Love? This wasn’t love.
It was madness. It was history returning to mess with her present.
But deep down… some part of her wondered if Mira was right.
- Writer
