Page 5 of Lilah
You know what, thiswouldhappen to me.
I stick out my arms, preparing for their impact against the ground but it never comes. Instead, the stranger, and my potential kidnapper, catches my body on his arm.
We've got a strong man here.
"Wow, that's my bad!" I laugh it off as I stand back up straight.
I'm not clumsy. Usually, I'm very steady on my feet.
"It's dark, y'know," I explain, for some reason feeling like I need to do so, "I hope your arm's okay! You're foot too. I'm wearing flip flops so my toe is basically broken in half right now."
He clears his throat and I tuck a piece of my hair behind my ear.
I'm really talking this guy's ear off right now. He could literally have a knife in his back pocket and I'm telling him how my toe is dead.
"I mean, I don't know you but the way I picture you in my mind, you don't seem like the type to wear flip flops. I don't know where that sentence came from, it was supposed to stay in my head, that's my bad right there."
"Are you done?" the low rumble of his voice shocks me at first.
I mean, I wasn't expecting his voice to sound so...manly and justwonderful.
Now I really want to see his face.
"Yes! I'm done," I nearly faint and he stands from his seat on the bench. The man towers over me.
He begins to walk away.
"Goodbye," I call out softly and he stops in his tracks as he passes just in front of me. I watch the outline of his tall and muscular figure as he turns to face me.
Maybe he can be my new friend?
"Would you maybe like to go get some milkshakes or someth-" I stop talking when his footsteps begin to retreat.
What's wrong with me?
It's like it's impossible for me to make a friend. I'm not that odd, am I? I like to think I'm not.
I keep telling myself I'll stop trying but every time I see someone new, there's just this need. I want to be liked so badly and I don't know how to ensure that.
I let out a quiet sigh and just continue down Red Street.
~~~
By eleven-fifteen, I've found a small coffee shop all the way at the end of town square.
I sit down in one of the booths and reflect over my life choices. The horrible and unexplainable life choices that come to me in the blink of an eye.
Tonight, I chatted off a poor man's ears. A poor, seemingly attractive, tall man who was probably thinking I was a psycho person.
Especially considering I was walking around town square in the dark with a pair of flip flops on.
I massage my forehead and let out a quiet groan.
Oh how I wish we could all just have do-overs in life.
"What can I get you?" an older, very tired appearing waitress mosies up to my table.
"Oh, I don't have any money," I laugh sheepishly, "I'm not going to order anyth-"
