Hanging by a Moment

Cooking for a special guy

He's here. I can't believe he's here. I should have gone somewhere else. I should never come here again. I am supposed to be forgetting about him, moving on, becoming normal again. I can't do any of those things when he's standing over there looking like THAT. He's wearing this form fitting black shirt with some black shorts that look way too good on him. He's distracting. I'm drooling. If I didn't need this food for later I'd abandon my cart and run far, far away. All I have to do is wait until he's finished before I go over there. I can do this. Why does he always get here first? I feel a little weird watching him from afar like this, but I need to know when it's safe. I can't believe I am cowering behind a freezer. This is the way it has to be, though.

He doesn't look happy, not that I really know him well enough to know that for sure. He just seems miserable. I feel bad. Maybe it's not going well with her. Why do I care? I need to not care. This shouldn't matter to me. I need to go back to the time before I met him. He's really turned my whole world upside down. I don't know who I am anymore. I hate that no matter how much I fight it and don't want to admit it I am happy to see him. I feel uplifted. I don't even need to go over there, just seeing him has changed my entire mood. I hate that. I hate it so much.

He looks in my direction and spots me, followed by the biggest smile known to mankind. Of course I melt into a puddle on the floor. Why does that make me happier than I've been in weeks? Maybe he's not looking at me. That smile has to be meant for someone else. He couldn't possibly be that happy to see me. We don't know each other. This isn't real. And he's walking over here. I'm a goner.

When he gets to me he doesn't say anything. I guess he's waiting for me to talk first. That's how this usually goes. Honestly, I'm a little speechless. I can't believe he was smiling that smile at me. I can't get it out of my head. "We gotta stop meeting like this."

"Then stop following me."

"You came over here."

"Because you're following me."

"Mhmm. Sure. Maybe you're following me."

He smiles and shakes his head before looking in my cart, which is fuller than usual. "Cooking for a special guy tonight?"

"Actually, yeah."

"Oh. Um. Cool."

"It's my brother."

"Ohhhhh."

"Scared ya, didn't I?"

"No. Nooooo. Why would I? No. Nope."

"Don't worry. It's just my brother."

"I didn't know..."

"That I have a brother? I know. All we do is talk about food when we see each other."

"I have a brother too, and a sister."

"I have five brothers."

"Wow."

"Yup."

"Are you the only girl?"

"Yeah."

"That must be intimidating for guys you date."

"I don't date assholes so they usually have nothing to worry about."

"That's good." He clears his throat, furrows his brow, and looks back into my cart. "Um. Special occasion?"

"My youngest brother got his license and he wants to drive everywhere so he's coming over."

"That's cute."

"He might be my favorite."

"Because he's the baby. I'm the baby too."

"Are you saying you're the favorite?"