Page 3 of Nyctophilia

Hunger.

Chapter 2

I stopped at the grocery store on my way home to grab some food so I could at least try to pretend to cook. Grabbing a basket I headed to the fruit section -- luckily that didn’t require any preparation. I snagged a bag of perfect looking oranges, feeling the fabric rip as I moved it to my basket. I watched in dismay as my bright oranges spilled all over the oatmeal coloured floors. It would be my luck I would make this kind of mess today. Hopefully no one had seen me. I bent over to stuff the fallen oranges back into my basket.

A deep voice rang out next to me. “Here. I can help you with that.”

Jasper.Of course he would be here to see my giant mess in the middle of the store. Wonderful. I was still annoyed with him thinking he could order me about, and I definitely did not want his help. “It’s fine. I’ve got it. Thanks.”

Jasper chuckled. “I’m sure you do. But I’m still here, and I can help.”

I continued to pick fruit up off the floor, trying to pretend like I didn’t notice how close his body was to me. He passed me an orange, his fingers lightly brushing against mine. Abruptly, I stood up and turned to walk away.

Unfortunately, he followed. “You come here often?”

Rolling my eyes, I headed into the cereal aisle. “It’s the only grocery store in town. So yes.”

Jasper pretended to look at the cereal. “You don’t like me.” It was a statement, not a question. But it wasn’t like it mattered to him. He didn’t even know me.

“I never said that,” I sighed. “I don’t know you. I don’t like people telling me what to do.”

He grasped my shoulder lightly and I pulled away.

“You won’t though, right? Go into the woods I mean.” His voice was serious. I didn’t get what the big deal was, but he could go bother someone else.

“You’re not asking me, you’re telling me,” I informed him, and strode away.

“Next time I’ll make sure I ask nicely!” His humour filled voice loudly followed me into the next aisle, but it held a note of truth underneath it. So much for not wanting to make a scene at the grocery store. I would have to do my best to make sure there wasn’t a next time.

Managing to evade him for the rest of my shopping, I juggled a large bag of cat food to try and find my car keys. But Jasper’s cheerful voice found me again. “That’s a lot of cat food!” I groaned. Was he following me again? I ignored him, and kept digging in my purse for my keys.

“Let me give you a hand.” He tried to take the bag, but I whirled around before he could. First the oranges, now he was here to watch me as I struggled with my giant bag of cat food. This was not shaping up to be a good look for me.

I finally managed to fish my keys out of my bag. “Got it!” I opened my car door and stowed the bag on the backseat. Jasper was leaning against the driver’s door. “Why are you still here?”

“You don’t mince words, do you?” He seemed amused by my irritation, which irritated me more. To top it off, how good he looked leaning against my car also annoyed me. My body was betraying my mind. “I thought this is what people who live in small towns do. You know, have polite conversation.”

“Uh huh. Well someone told you wrong. For the most part, we just talk shit about each other behind everyone’s backs,” I said, hoping to move the conversation along.

Jasper smiled at me, but it didn’t quite meet his eyes. “Don’t I know it. Well, Ava, don’t believe everything you hear.” He touched my hand, looking like he wanted to say more, but I pulled away, eyeing the clerk watching us from the store. Last thing I needed was people talking about me.

“I don’t.” I rubbed my hand gently, still feeling his touch. But that was crazy. “I should go.” Jasper nodded, like he had remembered where he was. He stuffed his hands into his pockets and strolled away, leaving me remembering the feeling of his skin on mine.

I got home still reeling from my interactions with Jasper. My head was filled with questions. Why was he asking about me? What was he investigating? When would I see him again? Did I want to see him again? I was simultaneously annoyed at his presumptuous tone and desperate to get to know him better.

Guys like Jasper didn’t think about girls like me. My parents, Jim and Monica, were a college professor and an artist respectively. They had tried to teach me my value wasn’t based on my physical appearance, or my partners, or the labels on my clothes, but rather on what was in my mind. Of course, this value, combined with my talent for consistently putting my foot in my mouth, never won me any popularity points. On the other hand, I never seemed to be good enough at it to please my parents. I always felt like my personality was an affront to them in some way.

Really, if Jasper was that desperate for someone to pass the time with in Merrillan he was better off with Rose McDermott. Rose was the local beauty queen with the perfect blonde locks and large enough chest to secure her bombshell title. I was happy to let her have that spot. My newest flirting experience alone left me feeling exhausted.

Brushing off my racing thoughts, I wandered into my kitchen to put some food in Betty’s dish. Upon hearing the food hitting the bowl, my large tabby came trotting into the room, winding herself around my feet. I gave her a few absentminded pats and moved towards the fridge, noticing my answering machine blinking angrily at me.

Shoot, I thought, my cell must have died again. There were some blessings to not being a member of the small town’s inner circle, like not being glued to my phone. I was the worst for keeping it charged, and Mollie never let me live it down. Mollie worked as a hygienist for the local dentist, and kept me from living under a rock like I was prone to doing. She also called me on her lunch break every day to fill me in on the latest gossip, and was not impressed when she couldn’t reach me.

Sure enough, as I pressed the play button her energetic voice filled the room. “Can you tell me what the point in you having a cell phone is if you never keep it charged?”

With my head in the fridge trying to find something edible I mentally spoke her next words along with her. “What if something happened to you? What if something happened tome?” As I sniffed some leftover Chinese takeout, her message wrapped up. “I’m buying you another phone charger to keep in your backpack. Call me. I have a story for you!”

For once in our friendship, I had a story for her as well. I wasn’t sure if I was ready to share it yet. I sat down at my kitchen island and started eating the cold chow mein. I didn’t pretend to be a chef. It’s just me and Betty, and thankfully she never complains about what we eat. I grabbed my phone and called Mollie’s cell as I ate.

---