I left home as soon as I schedule a date with Chadwick at the pizza parlor downtown. He agreed right away since it was a lunch break — and Chadwick was also a bit of a pizza junkie, which made all the effort to get out of his house a little easier. So, it wasn't hard to convince him to go there at whatever time it needed. It wasn't that hard for me either, because, after everything that happened, I urgently needed someone to talk to.

When I arrived at Pizza Place, the place was almost empty. There weren't many people and the tables were clean as if no one had used them. I seated at a table near the window at the very back of the restaurant, by the left side. The table was slightly more vandalized than all the others, but that table over there was my favorite among them all. I couldn't say why. Maybe because the view from the window looked directly onto the street, and you could see people passing by like a movie.

I remember years ago writing my name there on the old wood. I searched around the table and smiled when I realized it was still there. Noah Johnson. It was my name in my own handwriting. The weird thing was, it wasn't alone. Just to the side, there was a blur, as if the wood had been torn off, spaced exactly four blocks of syllables. I touched it with my fingers like I was seeing it for the first time. I don't remember writing anything other than my name in the wood, much less other people have done the same. Tables were easily vandalized, yes, that was a fact. But they usually had spaces and names, and nothing went beyond the boundaries of the name itself. So I was surprised to see another name torn off. It made me curious to know what was actually written there.

“Noah?”

I was startled when I looked up and saw Chadwick standing there. He was wearing a perfect winter look, even though it wasn't cold. He had that gray bonnet on his head from someone who give it to him last Christmas, and the same oversized sweatshirt that covered most of his body, in addition to the ripped jeans. He looked like the same Chadwick he always did, with only more tired bags under his eyes.

“Hi,” I said, uselessly disguising my own mental fatigue.

“I came as fast as I could. Are you okay? You made me worried.”

Suddenly, looking at him felt like torture. So I just looked away. How could I begin to explain what was happening to me? I felt like there was a part of me dying. I felt it in every step I took, with every breath. Every time I tried to hold into what was left of my own story, it seemed to run away from me. Whatever it was, it was ruining who I was, becoming someone I didn't recognize, not even when I looked in the mirror. In fact, I've come to avoid looking in mirrors. Looking at them was dangerous because I never knew what I might find on the other side. They say the eyes are the windows to the soul, and that's what I heard during most of my childhood. But when I looked into the mirrors, I noticed there was another window there too. Maybe one that I didn't really understand what it was, but every time, it shows me his reflection.

With all of this going around in my head, I tried to pull myself together. But tears were inevitable. Partly, because I felt lost. And partly, because Chadwick might not have been the best person to help me right now. I would have to accept the possibility that maybe I wouldn't have anyone's help to get out of this situation because that mission was mine alone.

“Noah… talk to me man, you're scaring me.”

“Chad… what would you do if you felt the world was about to end?”

Chadwick eyed me suspiciously. He looked nervous like he had a bad feeling.

“Listen, man. I don't know what's going through your head, but we can sort anything out, huh? Do not freak out.”

He didn't understand. And, maybe, it wasn't even good for me to explain it.

“There's something wrong with me. There's something wrong I can't see.”

“What do you mean?”

I looked at him, trying to push away my stormy thoughts. They wouldn't help my investigation. I needed answers.

“Good afternoon, gentlemen, are you going to order?”, a waiter interrupted us in the middle of our conversation.

I looked at him, a little lost. I didn't want to order it because I wasn't sure which pizza they served there.

“I want pepperoni with garlic, please," Chadwick said without hesitation.

The waiter looked at me as if to hurry, but at the same moment, he smiled wide.

“Oh, you around here again.”

I stared at him without understanding.

“Do I know you?”

The waiter frowned.

"Hey, weren't you the one who came here with that chipmunk boy? You almost ran out of my stash of pineapple pizza! Jesus Christ!”

Chadwick smiled, amused.

“Noah? He barely leaves the house.” He said as if it were obvious.

The boy denied it, determined to prove he wasn't lying.

“No. He came here with a talkative boy. They ran out of my stash of pineapple, and then, they did that right there on my table:”, the waiter pointed to the crossed-out names, and when he saw one of the names was gone, he frowned, “Ah… how weird! I'm sure I saw his name written there days ago.”

Days ago. Days ago, was he counting dates? It was time for Noah to ask questions!

“How many days? If you allow me to ask.”

“Uh… I have just got back from vacation. Which means… maybe the July 17th.”

July 17th.

July 17th, that date again. I picked up my own things and immediately left the restaurant. I could hear Chadwick shouting my name in the background, but I didn't even flinch. When I stopped outside the street, I started looking. He should have been here by now, I was feeling that.

“Come on… where are you?" I muttered, already feeling pretty crazy to be doing that.

But it wasn't while looking at the damn crosswalk that I found him. With the same denim jacket, the same neatly cut hair, and the same scared look. The cars seemed to go by at full speed, but none ever hit him. Just as I always saw him every day before I went to work, there he was again: invincible among the cars that passed him as if there were no astral boundaries.

I felt goosebumps on my arms as his eyes locked with mine. I felt my body catch fire and freeze at the same time. I felt as if time didn't exist, as if I had an obligation to not let him slip out of my sight. But I didn't do any of that.

“Noah!” Chadwick yelled while pulling at my wrist, which made me lose eye contact with the boy.

I looked at Chadwick, and realized he was nervous. I had never seen him act like that before, but I couldn't blame him. I was actually acting weird.

“What are you doing? Can you explain it to me?”

“What day did you perform? The day of your show?”

He looked at me with tiredness.

“July 15th. It was July 15th, Noah. Dammit, you were there! You know it!”

"And what happened two days later?"

“Well, we're still right here, aren't we?”

I stared at him.

“I'm not sure about that.”

“What?” Chadwick yelled, getting anxious "Dude, stop it! You're driving me crazy.”

“Listen, there are all these messages on my phone from someone I don't even know. Someone called Alex Diaz. Some are from July the 15th, the day of your concert. Others are from today, and also from the 19th. And…” I was about to show Alex Diaz's chat, when, at the same moment, another message arrived.

MESSAGE

Alex Diaz: Dammit, how you eat!

Alex Diaz: Next time, I'll try to order more pineapples to go. But, don't tell me you didn't like my flavor innovation, huh? ;)

Alex Diaz: I saw your face light up by the very first bite hahaha

Alex Diaz: You are really something, huh, Noah?

Chadwick stared at my phone, frowning. He looked just as confused as me.

"Is this… from now?"

“Yes, I believe so.”

“So who the hell is this guy?”

“That's the fucking problem, Chad.” I looked at the phone screen, noticing news messages of ‘me’. “I have no fucking idea.”

MESSAGE 

Noah Johnson: Unfortunately, I have to admit that pineapple pizza isn't as bad as I thought.

Noah Johnson: Maybe it's because I didn't have you to show me all of this before, Alex.

Noah Johnson: Pizza sucks without you.