Page 5 of Carnal Games

My first kiss at the back of the school cafeteria was so terrible that I felt a swarm of cockroaches in my stomach rather than butterflies.

“At least let me carry this for you so you don’t run into someone else.”

I’m a pretty good judge of character, so I can tell he’s just being a genuine human being. I return a grateful smile, and reply, “Okay, thanks.”

Besides, this is not a superstore with shopping carts or baskets, just a small general store nearby my house. As we cut through a few people milling about, my head is running a marathon about what to say next to fill the silence, which then leads to, is the silence really awkward or am I imagining it? Can he sense it? If he can, does he think I’m a weirdo?

My cuckoo train of thought comes to a halt when he saves me from blurting out random trivia about a movie, which is my go-to move when I’m fumbling to say something.

It’s the only tool I have in my arsenal.

“Are you having a slumber party or something?” he casually asks, as we come to a stand in the queue to the counter.

“No. It’s all for me.”

He arches one eyebrow in surprise. “You’ll eat all this by yourself?”

“Yep.” Then I rush to add, “I mean, over the week, not at once.”

Actually, that’s a big fat lie. I’ll finish it all by midnight. It’s a bad habit, but it’s not my fault that they make junk food so delicious. How am I—or rather, anyone really—supposed to resist? Honestly, the unhealthier a thing is, the more irresistible it is.

Like crushes on bad boys.

Chasing men with red flags.

Late-night binge-watching.

Becomingobsessed and fixatedwith a stranger after seeing him once.

A throat clears again and I blink back to earth. Shit. Did I zone out again? I look up into my stranger-turned-companion to find him smirking knowingly.

“Can I get in on your thoughts? They seem to be more interesting.” He chuckles before feigning hurt. “Or am I that boring that you keep zoning out on me?”

“God! No,” I say apologetically, trying not to fidget. “I… just do that sometimes.”

“Have a lot on your mind today?”

“Kind of.” We move forward, now third in line.

“Wanna talk about it?” My chivalrous stranger offers. “I’ve been told I’m a good listener.”

I mull it over for a few seconds. Then decide, what the heck? Maybe an unbiased opinion is what I need. But the question is…. How much to share without risking him reportingme to the authorities for being an aspiring stalker. I play it safe by keeping it vague, testing the waters. “I had to say goodbye to someone I wasn’t ready to part ways from.”

“Goodbyes are hard,” he replies after a beat, as though he understands. “Especially when it’s not by choice.”

“Mine was more all of a sudden.”

“And you wish you had time to prepare yourself.”

“Yeah.” Another step and we’re next. “I selfishly wanted the moments to last longer but at the same time, it wouldn’t have been enough.”

I was slowly becoming greedy.

Just one more day.

One final glance.

That’s how I kept rationalizing it to myself.

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