Sorry

“Are you there, God? It’s me, Kin.” He said as he knelt on the floor of his closet. He prayed for a way out, with no obvious rescue in sight he hoped for a miracle.

               Kin knew he was trapped in the mayhem of his own devising. He had done this to himself and now there was no way out of it. As his hands shook, fingers locked together, he hoped that God had heard his words. Even as his bedroom door squeaked open, and he could hear boots on the hardwood floor he prayed for a miracle. He prayed that just this once his actions didn’t have consequences. He hoped that the last twenty-four hours hadn’t happened.

               It started with the usual routine, a morning coffee from the bakery down the street from his apartment. He would tell himself it would be the day he didn’t order a pastry to go with it yet failed once again at the sniff of freshly baked blueberry muffins. He sat at a table closest to the door, allowing himself to take in each person that passed by. Until he saw her, a woman he recognized from somewhere but couldn’t place it. He watched as she walked into the bakery, past his table, and to the counter.

               “One Strawberry Danish.” Even after delivering her order, her eyes skimmed across the bakery windows as if she was going to ad to it. It was clear she found joy in presentation, each pastry catching her attention more than the last. Kin used the opportunity to jog his memory. He got up from his seat walking past the line that had formed, directly to her.

               “Hi, I’m Kin, and you are?” He flashed her a charming smile. She stood up meeting his eye with an almost disappointed look.

               “No.” She turned her direction back to the cashier and paid for her Danish with a smile. She thanked her with a tip and turned to leave.

               “So, no, how did you find out about this bakery? I live nearby and was walking-“

               “Stop. I’m not interested Kin. I know who you are. We’ve been working in the same office for two years. If you don’t know my name that is a you problem.” And with her words, she walked past him and out the door leaving him standing there confused, snapped out of his days by a snicker from a girl in line.

               “Sounds like you need to mind your business.” He snarked at the woman who found his situation amusing.

               “Sounds like you need to get your head out of your ass.” Her eyes never left him but he took her words to heart.

               “And how would you know that?” Kin asked.

               “You don’t even know the people that you see daily. What is the cashier’s name? I bet she takes care of your order every day, come on what’s the first initial?” She was making perfect sense. He looked around speechless, he knew her face but her name was nowhere to be found in his mind. “Bro it’s literally on her shirt. Hey Karen.” She gave her a wave and Karen smiled in response.

               “You come in here often then?” He asked.

               “Is that a line or are you asking?” She looked at him warily.

               “A line? No thank you, you’re not my type.” He flagged her off and took a step back.

               “Oh, how offended am I, to not be wanted by a man who is blind of others.” She sarcastically looked at him and burst into laughter.

               “Whatever, you wanted me to want you.” He said looking down at her.

               “No, I wanted you to stop blocking the deal of the day but instead I got a front-row seat to you being rejected by a beautiful woman.” She turned to reclaim her place in the moving line.

               “Rejected?” He was now standing beside her. “Kin Jacobs, president of Kappa Si does not get rejected, he gets challenged.”

               “Challenged? Yes, that is what every woman wants, to be made aware of your college credentials and to be considered as a player in your single-player-only game.” She reached the front of the line and greet Karen. “Hey Karen, the usual, and Spike wants two shots of espresso, long night.” She placed a tip in the tip jar before paying for her order.

               “Spike? That sounds like a dog?” He asked judging her order.

               “She’d like to think so.” She smiled at him.

               “What does that even mean?” He asked looking around for a clue. He threw a charming smile toward Karen who nervously looked back at him combing her hair out of her face with her fingers.

               “Karen, no, you’re better than that.” She slammed her hand on the counter as if Karen were in trouble and took her coffees and pastry bag.

               “See, I don’t get rejected. You might but not me.” He gestured to her appearance. “Sweatpants in public.” She laughed at his assumption that she cared what he thought. She continued to walk with him shortly behind her.

               “Look, a girl like Karen has some frogs to kiss, yes.” She gestured to him. “But will she end up with a guy like you, no? why? Because those charming smiles you give to every girl here will only make it so far.” She turned to leave, and he stopped her.

               “It has gotten me pretty far I do say so myself.” He smiled, going someplace in his mind, she surely didn’t want to follow.

               “Consensually?” She asked. He froze in his daze making eye contact with her. He didn’t know how to respond to her question.

               “What was your name again?” He asked, hoping to remember it for further research purposes.

               “I didn’t give it. I prefer to stay off your search bar, who knows what it has seen.” She pushed past him out the door leaving him once again confused and standing beside a long line of people.

               He did what he thought anyone else would do in his shoes. He turned around heading back to the counter, ignoring the complaints from those in line, and flirted his way into the information that he wanted. With a promise to call Karen before the day was out, he got her name before heading to work for the day. He looked for her throughout the day, the woman from before. The woman that took his attention away from his morning news.

               He didn’t see her until the end of the day. When she walked past his desk into his boss’s office. He attempted to get her attention but failed. She walked past him without a care, which only increased his curiosity.

               “Who’s that?” He asked his friend Melvin in the cubicle next to his.

               “Marsha, she’s office manager on the floor above us. I think she went to the same college as you. At least she wore the team hoodie on the college appreciation day.” He shrugged off his guess and got back to work. Kin smiled, realizing she finally had an in, and waited for her to come out of his boss’s office. It took fifteen minutes, but he waited and as soon as she passed his desk, he was ready.

               “Be better! Do better! Better Bulldogs!” He yelled as she walked by. She stopped in her tracks and looked at him. Embarrassed, she slowly made her way to his desk.               

               “What was that?” She asked.

               “It was a quote coach used to say. You went to Coolbridge University, right?” He smiled knowing the answer.

               “What do you want?” She asked, hoping to end the conversation.

               “A date. With you.” He flashed her that charming smile and by her smile that followed, he knew his challenge had been accepted.

               “Tonight. Nine. I’ll email you the details.” She guided her hand across his desk knocking over his pen holder before walking away.

               He arrived on time. A minute before to gather himself before making the way up her path. He didn’t pay much attention to his surroundings, so when a van parked behind him, he didn’t pay it much mind. He got out, focused on his opening line, taking a minute to check his appearance in his side mirror, and as he stood up and the bag was placed over his head.

               He woke up to complete darkness, but he knew where he was. He had recognized the furniture even in the dark. Why would kidnappers bring him back to his own house? He wondered what they wanted as he tried to break free. Suddenly the lights turned on and a face he recognized was looking back at him.

               “Marsha? What is this?” He asked trying to escape.

               “You know, I cried when I found out they hired you in the office. I thought, why must he follow me. The man who took years of therapy to forget.” She got close to him. “And then you didn’t even recognize me. Not until I changed my clothes and then today the first day, I get all dolled up and here you come once again Mr. perfect.” She stood up circling his chair.

               “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m not who you think.” He said struggling to break free.

               “Kinston Jacobs, one of the best point guards Coolbridge had ever seen. President of his frat that volunteered at the shelter for a resume boost and an all-around ladies man.” She said revealing the knife she was holding.

               “Ok, you can google. Now let me out.” He warned her.

               She placed a picture in his lap.

               “I found this in your living room closet. A box marked college grades. You figured if the label was boring no one would look in it?” She dragged the knife across his ties.

               He looked down at the picture and fear set in. He knew where he recognized her from, but he couldn’t say. He was sworn to secrecy and no matter the situation he wouldn’t turn on his brother. He thought about them for a second and remembered the email he received a few short days ago.

               “Matt Draves.” He looked at her.

               “He was first. The messenger of the invitation. I thought about saving you for last, the instigator. Then I got my promotion, which meant I would have to pass you every day and I couldn’t. I would have to mentally prepare myself to walk past you and that, THAT! I couldn’t do.” She smiled and cut the ties around his feet. “But I will give you a chance. One you didn’t give me or those other pictures I found in the box.” She left the knife by the door and walked out of the room.

               In minutes he was free and headed for the door. He opened it and walked out of his home office to find the hallway empty and complete silence. Suddenly the light in the hallway turned off and fear set in. He heard boots against the hardwood floors and knew it was only one way to run. He ran to his bedroom and locked the door behind him before getting into his closet. He knelt and prayed for forgiveness. He heard the door open slowly and those same boots appeared before the closet door. Before he could worry and crash hit the door and he could see something poked its way through. It was pulled back, a chain-like sound before a crash hit the door once more.

               “Spike we want him alive…for now.” A voice he recognized appeared in the silence. “Come out Mr. Frog, we’d like to see that charming smile.”