With a solid eyeroll and deep, steadying breath, I turned around and backtracked. There was no way I could show my face in that apartment empty handed. Anyone who thought the devil’s idea of punishment was bad had obviously never been chased down the street by a hungry, one hundred pound cat.
I jogged the last bit and stepped through the automatic door. Lofi music played over the stereo in a relaxing flow of happy chords. I walked head down through the aisles and only wanted to die a little bit, trying to silently breathe so no one could hear how close to my second-death I was.
”Luci, if you can hear me, I want you to know that I think it’s absolute bullshit that I’m supernaturally strong and could likely run for hours but still feel like I’m going to die at the end.” Then, to myself, I whispered, “Gotta lay off the ramen.”
The pet food aisle was looking a little too bare for comfort. All of the rich people shit was taken, leaving behind dried up kibble and synthetic fish powder. All of which were not Jesus approved.
“Fucking, Jesus,” I grumbled for the umpteenth time that night and stomped to the refrigerated meat section. I needed something that said, ‘I’m sorry I’m late getting home, your highness’ and not ‘I forgot about your food so I hope this makes up for it.’
“Come here often?”
I startled and whipped around, surprised to find–
“Batman?”
Those same warning bells prickled the back of my neck.
“I’m sorry,” he said with his hands up. A genuine, boyish grin lit up his features. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“Your presence didn’t scare me.” I straightened the non-existent wrinkles from my sweatshirt and cleared my throat to buy myself some time for composure. “It was your pathetic attempt at a pickup line.”
“Ouch.”
What the hell was he doing here?
Perhaps he’s following you,came an icy whisper.
I shoved the devil’s suggestion aside and shook off the antsy feeling in my gut. Joe’s clean, woodsy smell wafted my way.
I turned to face him fully, crossed my arms and popped out my hip. “Next time, try something… more.”
“More?” he laughed, the sound light and jovial. “Can you give me some pointers?”
His hunter green Henley was pristine, his jeans crisp, and the golden retriever energy rolled off in waves.
Everything about Joe was likeable. Maybe even loveable.
“Something along the lines of, ‘Damn. Came here looking for a snack and found a five course meal on aisle ten’ would have worked better”
“Seriously? That’s what would have worked?”
“No,” I scoffed in mock offense. “I said it would workbetter. Sure as hell would have beat ‘come here often?’”
“Touché, Ivy.”
Joe watched me through an awkward beat of silence. When I sucked my teeth and turned back toward the refrigerator, he snapped out of whatever wet dream he’d fallen victim to and cleared his throat.
“I was going to buy a filet and a pint of ice cream to eat alone in the dark, buuut,” he drew out. “If you’re free, I’d love the company.”
My first thought was Jesus fuck this guy doesn’t quit. But, then again, I really didn’t want to be alone.
I was worried about Caramel, stressed about the red band circling my wrist,spiraling about my place in this stupid world...
Fuck it.
“Oh?” I answered slyly. “And where would we be dining on your dollar?”
“How does a walk through the park with a chili dog sound?”
