Serial

Diary Entry: September 10th

September 10th

I got Emmy's schedule from her co-worker. The same kid who'd sold me her address. This time, I slipped him an eighth of weed for the info. He seemed more excited by this than he had about the money. And he should've been. It was solid shit. My own personal stash. But I figured it'd impress him enough to keep his mouth shut.

People like us needed the distraction of drugs or booze. It was like air for us. Not that the kid was exactly like me. I was educated, intelligent, good looking, upper class...to put it bluntly, I was just better than he was.

But the station kid had a restlessness about him I recognized. I could see it in the way his eyes darted around, pupils dilated and flighty, like he was ready to take off at any second. And he never stopped moving. Like, he was afraid that if he stopped, the reality of his life's situation would settle into his mind and he'd drop dead from the hopelessness of it all...

People like me and the station kid will take anything if it gets us out of our reality. I don't even remember the last time I was truly sober.

Thank God.

It made what I did in my spare time, easier. Like a moral lubricant.

Which brings me back to Emmy. Sweet, pretty, dancing Emmy. According to her schedule, Thursday was her only day off.  This created a bit of a problem for me, since I teach Media Affairs in the morning and then again in the afternoon. I'd been by her place often enough lately to know that she usually went to bed early. "The ultimate good girl," the station kid had said when he'd described her.

"Even good girls have a little bad in them," I'd told him. "You've just gotta look deep enough."

So, given Emmy's propensity for early nights and my full class schedule, I had no choice but to try and fit my visit in sometime between it all.

It was difficult, but not impossible.

I drove up to her apartment, this time parking about ten feet away from the entrance to the complex. It was the first time I'd actually stopped and gotten out. All my other visits had been for recon purposes; seeing where she lived, checking out her habits, catching a glimpse of her in the window.

This would be my first time inside.

I was giddy with excitement.

The chase is always the best part. There are so many possibilities still, so many ways it can all play out. Nobody's disappointed me yet. Once it's over, I'm always left with a hollowness inside, because reality rarely lives up to the fantasy. And then there's nothing left to look forward to. Until the next one.

So, I love the before.

Looking at myself in the rearview mirror, I adjusted my black-rimmed glasses and smoothed down my hair. I'd gone to the gym that morning, so my muscles were still taut under my white tee. I left my jacket in the car, because I thought I looked younger without it. Less old professor, more cool, older man.

I wanted her impressed, not afraid. Not yet.

Showing up unannounced and uninvited was risky. Today's women are less trusting of strangers and assume everybody is a threat. Ted Bundy ruined this for us. Before him, no one would've ever expected someone like me to be anything other than what I looked like on the outside. What I chose to show people.