Lachlan

I

The coffee shop is crowded. Professionals in suits having meetings cause apparently an office isn’t good enough. Young adults gathered around with their friends, gossiping and flirting. The atmosphere is buzzing, per usual. I managed to snag my favorite spot by the window, it’s relaxing to watch the palm trees blowing gently in the breeze. Sometimes I will venture onto the patio to enjoy the Florida weather, but it makes me want to close my eyes and take a nap. But I need to focus, I have work to do. The door chimes over and over again as customers make their way in and out. Having forgotten my headphones,  I try to tune it out as I work on my lesson plan for the next week. Teenagers have proved to be a challenge and I never thought I would have such a hard time as a teacher. I had just graduated college only a year ago and thought the smaller age gap would help me connect with these students, but I was so wrong. 

An hour passes quickly and I take a moment to stretch my arms over my head. I should get another iced coffee, I think as I glance at my mostly empty cup, the condensation pooling on the table underneath. There’s only two people in line so I quickly scurry over. I can’t help staring at the back of the head of the person in front of me. He has short blonde hair, some freckles along the back of his neck. He has a plain white t-shirt on and black jeans. Tall and slim. The stranger turns his head slightly and I quickly look away. Life has been rather lonely since the breakup two months ago, I haven’t been able to bring myself to do anything more than occasionally look at other men. No apps or speed dating for me. My roommate, Roxanne, told me I should really try to get out more. Marc was never coming back and it was for the best. I didn’t deserve to be lonely and mope around. But I just wasn’t ready. 

The stranger steps forward as his time to order comes and as he speaks I notice a faint accent. He sounds like he is from Europe, Irish or Scottish maybe. It causes goosebumps to raise on my arms and I quickly run my hands up and down my skin. Get yourself together girl. You act like you have never seen a man before. But then as his transaction is finalized and he turns to walk to the other counter, I notice he may not be a man at all. From what I can see his face is so young. I flush with embarrassment as I realize I have been ogling a possible teenager. I keep repeating “He could just have a young face” in my head as I try to push him from my mind. I order quickly, dreading standing near him at the other side of the counter. I give him a wide berth to wait a few feet away, thankful he seems oblivious to my eyes and thoughts. He grabs his coffee and I heave a sigh of relief that he will be leaving soon. But as he turns he comes much too close to me and I catch a full on view of his face. A young face, but he could definitely be over eighteen. I keep my face turned away but inhale sharply as out of the corner of my eye I see him glance at me. Why are you torturing me universe? Time seems to go in slow motion as he finally passes, a slight breeze carrying the smell of cologne hitting me in the face. My chest is thumping dramatically as the door chimes, signaling his exit. I quickly grab my coffee and return to my chair with a thud. I try to resist looking out the window but my curiosity gets the better of me. It’s a mistake. He catches my eye as he climbs into the driver’s side of a black Mustang with tinted windows. My eyes shoot away as I internally kick myself. It feels like an eternity passes before I have the courage to look up again. And the car is gone.

II

Monday morning comes too soon as I pull into the parking lot of South Broward High School. Students already clutter the parking lot, chattering excitedly. It is too early for me to be excited to be here. I take a few deep breaths before getting out of my car. I smooth my black pencil skirt and make my way up to the front doors, my black heels clicking against the sidewalk. The halls are crowded and loud as I meander through the river of people. I finally make it to my classroom and unlock the door, relieved there are no students waiting outside to enter.. I come to a dead stop as my eyes focus on my desk. A bouquet of roses and sunflowers lay across the middle. I take a few steps closer, feeling as if the flowers will jump up at me. I always used to talk about how pretty the combination was, I had wanted them for our wedding. Surely they couldn’t be from Marc. He hadn’t tried to contact me at all. I can feel sweat starting to bead on my forehead as I stare at the flowers. It is probably just all coincidence. I am snapped out of my thoughts by students making their way into the room. I push the bouquet off to the side of the desk as I turn to greet the kids. 

The day passes quickly and I am relieved when the final bell rings. 

“Don’t forget your papers are due on Friday. Make sure you use the right formatting and that it is at least three pages. Cite your sources. Anyone with questions please touch base with me tomorrow. Do not wait until the last minute, please.”

I say goodbye to them as they pass by and sit to finish some things up before heading home. I get through the stack of tests that needed grading and start to pack up my belongings. I glance at the bouquet once more, considering dumping them. But I would feel like a real jerk if they were from someone else. It’s possible Roxanne could have sent them as a way to cheer me up since she will be on vacation with her parents for the next week and a half.  I gather everything up, cradling the flowers in one arm as I make my way through the hall. Most of the students have gone except for extracurriculars. I round the last corner and crash into someone coming from the other direction. Hands reach out to grab my shoulders as I teeter off balance, nearly dropping everything.

“You okay?”, the person asks.

I’m flustered but am finally able to compose myself. “Thank you, I am f-fi...”

I glance up and am met with an intense green eyed stare. No way. The guy from the coffee shop. I quickly take a step backwards and out of his reach. An eyebrow quirked at me, waiting for me to finish my sentence.

“I’m fine.”

“Very good. Sorry didn’t mean to run into you,” he continues, granting me a quick smirk. My eyebrows furrow in frustration. There’s no way in hell I would run into him again. Was he a student here? He had to be. There would be no other reason for him to be here. I feel bile in the back of my throat as my shameful thoughts from seeing him over the weekend resurface.

“It really is f-fine. S-sorry I am in a rush.” I rush to continue past him and hear him speak to me from behind.

“Pretty flowers. You should put them in some water.”

I nod quickly over my shoulder and get to my car as fast as possible. I close myself in, trying to calm my breathing. There is no way my luck is this bad. My hands are shaking and I rub them up and down my thighs. What is wrong with me? Why am I acting like this? I didn’t do anything wrong. I acknowledged that he was possibly a kid and I shouldn’t have any further thoughts about him. If he really was a student here I wouldn’t be able to avoid him forever. I needed to be normal and stop being psychotic. I couldn’t help but wonder why I had never seen him before, yet here were two encounters in the span of just a few days. I kicked my heels off and threw them onto the passenger side floor. Deep breaths, deep breaths. I pushed the start button and raced towards the comfort of home. 

III

The bottle of moscato is almost empty as I cry over cheesy Lifetime movies. The week passed so slowly, my anxiety getting better as each day passed and I didn’t run into him again. The large apartment felt empty without Roxanne’s presence. We had been friends since grade school but I had just moved in with her after the breakup. I let Marc keep our downtown Orlando apartment and I took a new job here in Hollywood. Roxanne didn’t need the extra money considering her parents paid for this place while she worked on finishing her Master’s. But she insisted she would appreciate the company.  I typed out a quick text to her wishing her a good weekend and how excited I was for her to get back next week. The buzzer for the building entrance made me jump as it sounded through the living room. I quickly got up and pressed the button to admit the delivery guy into the lobby. 

“Sixth floor,” I said quickly through the speaker. 

My stomach was rumbling, impatient for dinner. It only took a few minutes for there to be a knock on the front door. I quickly opened to reveal the delivery guy. For a moment I was slightly taken aback by his appearance, long dark hair and a cap pulled low over his eyes. 

“Here’s your pizza m’am. I need you to sign the receipt for me.”

“Sure, no problem,” I replied, recovering quickly. Who was I to judge some kid’s appearance? “Let me set that down on the counter real quick.”

He handed over the pizza box and I scurried it over to the kitchen counter. The smell of the fresh pie almost made me drool. I set it down and then...there was a sharp pain. And darkness.

Why can’t I move my hands? My legs either. What is going on? I feel like I am moving though. I am having such a hard time opening my eyes. Why does my head hurt so bad? Did I drink too much? I mean I know it was a whole bottle, but it was a small one. There’s no way. Wait...is that someone’s voice?

“I think she drank too much on an empty stomach, I’m taking her to the hospital now. I’m sure she will be fine.”

Wait….

My body lands on a hard surface with a thud and I’m finally able to open my eyes. There’s a small dim light over me. I feel so claustrophobic. I try to sit up but quickly realize my legs and arms are bound. I feel tears streaming down my cheeks as I struggle to move. There’s some kind of duct tape across my mouth and a pitiful moan escapes from my throat.

What the hell is going on? Where am I? I manage to roll onto my other side and my scream is muffled as I come face to face with blank eyes in a bloodied face. Dear god, what the fuck is happening? I panic as I continue trying to free any part of my body. No no no, this isn’t happening. A hand pushes me down firmly against the hard surface and I feel my eyes go wide as long hair brushes against my face. The delivery guy? He uses his other hand to pull his hat off and the hair comes off with it. I freeze as I recognize his face. He smiles down at me, almost tenderly. 

“I’m sorry it had to happen this way darling.” He runs a finger down my cheek and I jerk my head away. “But don’t worry, everything will be okay.” He holds my face in his hand and leans down to kiss along the tear stains.

Then he pulls back and slams the trunk closed, leaving me in darkness.