Chapter 3

“I’m skipping class today!” He yells back with a childish smile.

I stare at his back as he walks further away from me. He is almost at the other exit of the building. I really want to see him again, to be honest. But I guess I will, he is after all my stalker.

I start walking towards my class. I glance at the watch on my left wrist and my heart instantly leaps.

I’m twenty minutes late for the damn thing! Shoot!

I start jogging in the class’ direction. My legs ache a bit. I did a lot of squats yesterday. I am very motivated to have a decent butt.

When I reach the door, I hear Ms. Flowers’ voice. I open the red door slowly, hoping to just creep in with no one noticing me.

But that’s just an elaborate fantasy. The door makes an awful squeak and everyone in the class looks up at me.

“Uh, hi?” I say sheepishly.

My best friend who sits in front kept an empty seat for me, as expected.

He is trying his best not to laugh out loud but is failing miserably.

Ms. Flowers ignores me and I rush to my seat. The rest of my classmates ignored me too. I guess they’re just simply used to me being late now.

I’m not always late, in my defense.

Okay, okay. I’m always late, but not very late. It’s always like twenty or twenty-five minutes late. You can’t blame me!

Like I said, my life is very boring. So I try to always be in the moment. To be present requires a lot. If there’s a couple arguing on the street, I stop by to help.

If there’s a cat stuck in a tree, I stop by to help. If there’s a random boy having a tantrum with his parents, I stop by to help.

If there is—well you get the point. So yeah, I’m always late.

I flop in the empty seat near Wesley, who is my best friend.

“Ms. Flowers expected you to be extra late today. She told us she saw you talking to a boy when she was on her way to class,” Wesley explained.

“She saw us? I mean, she saw me?”

“Yeah. She told the whole class. We even did a vote.”

“Can you believe some people voted that you would miss the entire class?” Wesley shakes his head.

I fake a gasp while holding my chest.

“They have such little faith in me. I never miss class!”

We were whispering and the thing about whispering is that you don’t want to get caught. So it would probably be wise not to be whispering when you’re sitting in the front row of the class while the teacher is teaching.

Ms. Flowers clears her throat loudly.

“Rose, why don’t you stand up and explain to us why onomatopoeia brings character to an essay or story?”

Onoma-what now?

That word sounds like an extinct dinosaur. How would I know?!

It does sound familiar but I have not been studying. I have a reputation as the class nerd but I’m not living up to it, sadly.

I stand up. “Well, uh.”

Everyone's eyes are on me. I divert my eyes from my teacher and stare at the whiteboard behind her.

I can hear Wesley saying lowly, “You got this Rose.”

But the truth is I don’t “Got this”.

“Sit down, young lady. Meet me in my office later.” Ms. Flowers doesn’t sound angry, just disappointed. I’m also disappointed.

I do as she says.

Minutes later, the class is over. The day goes by in a blur. I met with Ms. Flowers. She didn’t say much. She just wanted to know whether I was okay. I lied and said I was. But the truth is I’m not.

The anniversary of my Dad’s passing is three days from now and I feel very weary emotionally and mentally. The only thing exciting for me right now is my stalker. I want to meet him again.

Where is he? I wonder what his name is. He looks like a Jason. Maybe a Pete.

Gosh, I want to know his name! I’m on my way to my favorite coffee shop. It’s called ‘Dr. Coffee.’ It's a very lovely place.

It’s not far from campus. Wesley and I go there every day after our classes. But today I told him I wanted to go there alone. My heart feels too heavy. I don’t want to be gloomy around him. He’s such a wonderful friend.

Plus I want him to spend time with Zoey. His almost-girlfriend. They’re getting there but they’re not exactly there yet.

I enter the coffee shop and a familiar feeling hits me. The air smells of coffee and baked goodies. The place is busy. Very busy. It’s 12pm so I’d expect that.

I have a special table I always sit at. It’s beside the glass window and it gives me a beautiful view of the busy streets.

The staff knows I always sit there at this time so it’s always empty for me. But today, I see someone in my seat!

How dare they? How dare my favorite coffee shop betray me? I walk towards the counter and narrow my eyes at Ben, the cashier.

“Oh hi, Rose! The usual?” He asks out of habit. But he notices my expression and then looks over at where I usually sit. “Oh,” He says apologetically.

“Yeah, oh. Ben, how could you?” I pout my lips and batt my eyes rapidly in hopes of looking cute and pitiful.

It’s probably the opposite, I probably look mentally disturbed.

Ben chuckles and raises his arms in surrender. “In my defense, the guy said he knew you and was waiting for you. You know I will never give your seat up.” He winks at me with a smile.

I look over at the table once more and then it hits me. That’s him!

That’s literally him! That’s my stalker! Oh gosh! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes!

My face must be a weird mixture of bliss and excitement because Ben starts to laugh.

“What?” I ask him playfully.

“Nothing, nothing. But he already ordered for you both. I don’t know how but he knows exactly what you order every day,” Ben says as he stares at a customer that is giving one of the waiters a hard time.

“Excuse me, Rose. I have to help the new guy out.” Ben nods his head toward an overly shy white guy.

“Sure, sure. Go do your job, Ben,” I begin, as I walk towards my table.

“Excuse me?” I say as I sit on the other side of the table. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Sitting.” He replies with a coy smile.

“I know. I’m not blind. But I mean, what are you doing?” I ask him. I know it’s the same question but he knows what I’m talking about!

“I don’t know, sitting while drinking coffee.” He doesn’t have his glasses on and his eyes are green. Really green. It looks like a field of grass on a beautiful farm.

“I ordered for you.” He pushes the coffee cup towards me. I snap out of my trance. His eyes may look pure but that doesn’t mean his intentions are.

“Thank you, but I don’t know you,” I say formally. My plan to play hard to get is in play. I have read this in novels so many times. This is my time!

“Well, you do. I’m your stalker.” He is too relaxed. How is he doing this?

I’m here super anxious and I can’t stop making eye contact with him. My heart is beating faster than normal. Not out of fear, which is crazy. But out of interest.

“Well...uh, stop that,” I say. I really don’t have anything to say. I don’t usually meet stalkers.

“Stop what?” He sips some of his coffee.

“Stop staring at me. It’s discomforting.” I’m just making this up now.

I’m the one staring at him. And I know that he knows that.

“I am?” He asks. His voice is so familiar. Do I know him from somewhere?

“Never mind. Is the coffee paid for? Because I’m not paying. And I have to leave.”

“No, you don’t. Your schedule is clear. No more classes for the rest of your day. Your mom isn’t home either, she comes back by 9. Your best friend is out with Zoey. You are free. You have time. Spend it with me,” He says clearly and easily as if he’s giving a presentation.

I am lost for words. What the hell? How? How does he know this? Who the hell is he?

“You’re scared, I know. But you don’t have to be. You’re safe with me.”

He tries to touch my hand. And the scary thing is that I let him. I let him touch me. “Okay. This is going too far. This was fun at first but you’re clearly...this is just not okay.” I want to leave but something pulls me to him.

“You say you’re leaving but you’re still sitting,” He says proudly. His hands are still over mine.

“What’s your name?” My mind is all over the place right now. But I want to know his name.

He chuckles and then draws his hands away from mine. I regret it instantly. I miss the warmth his hands bring me.

“My name is Sterling.” He says simply.

“Oh.” I don’t have anything to say about that. I’m still trying to understand what is happening. He knows too much about me. I needed to know his name, to gain some sort of leverage.

“No last name?” I ask.

“You only get my first name today, love.”

Why is he being so mysterious? Why—-wait a minute. Did he just say what I think he said? He called me Love.

Why? Does he think I’m girlfriend material? Does he want to date me? Is this his way of saying he loves me?

Snap, I’m rambling to myself. It’s just an innocent word.

He stands up and pulls out his wallet. He drops some bills on the table and puts the wallet back. He starts to leave but I stop him.

“Where are you going?”

“I think you mean, where are we going.” He says. His confidence is through the roof. I will give him that. Because there is no way I’m going with a stranger who knows so much about me while I know nothing about him.

No way am I going to follow someone whose existence is a question mark to me.

No way. No way!

“Where are we going?" I surprised even myself by asking. Oh boy, here we go.