Page 114 of Lucky In Love

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re adolescent?”

“Ouch. I’m only trying to get you to engage in conversation.”

“See that’s the adolescent thing I’m talking about. I don’t want to engage in any conversation with you, but you keep trying to make me.”

“You don’t think you’re being adolescent by trying to avoid me altogether?”

“I don’t care what you think?”

Julian adjusts his jaw as he glares at me. He picks up his bag that I didn’t notice he had put down and heads for the door. He tries to open it and it doesn’t open. I lean forward looking at him attempting to open the door, again.

“Enya, did the young lady say that the doors would lock after hours?”

“No, they’re not supposed to lock from the inside until 6 o’clock.”

“Well something is wrong.”

I walk over to the door and try opening it myself, because I don’t believe Julian.

“You didn’t believe me?”

“No. Shit!” I grab my cellphone to call Jordy, so that she or someone can come back to let us out. “Shit! I have no range”

“Neither do I,” he says walking back and forth to try to connect to a cell tower. The lights flicker again, but this time was different.

Shit! I yell as the power goes out. This is that last thing I wanted to happen, and I definitely didn’t want to be locked inside with a man I despise.

“Enya, we’re going to be here until the storm passes, maybe we’ll have services.”

“Send me a text? I’ll send you a text, what’s your number?” I ignore whatever Julian was saying. I disregard what I was saying, and sends a text to my mother. It comes back as failed. “I can’t stand technology.”

“It depends on what type of technology. I like vinyl records.”

I slowly turn my head, staring at Julian, “What are you talking about.”

“Vinyl records, they’re a form of technology.”

“I don’t care, Julian. I’m trying to get out of here.”

“You really are self-centered.”

“Let me guess, that came from Shontae?”

“No, that came from observing,” he says taking a seat next to me.

We sit in silence for what seems likes hours, and only twenty minutes has passed. My tablet is keeping my occupied but not for long.

“This may seem a bit adolescent, but let’s play a game.”

I look up from my slowly dying tablet. “What you don’t play enough video games at home.”

“Nope I don’t own video games.”

“Right, you own what is it again,” I ask snapping my fingers... “Records.”

“I own Vinyls.”

“Same, difference.”

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