Downhill

20

Great. Now I have a stalker? He followed me?

Part of me wanted to scold him, but the other part wanted to ask him why. The part that won was the "ignore the text" part.

I really should have just let the entire encounter in the restaurant lie. It was completely unnecessary for me to make him feel better about what happened. Because he shouldn't feel any shame from it anyway. At least, I hope he didn't.

But Jacob did seem to be keen on following certain "norms," none of which included twenty-three year olds.

I kept hoping to not run in to him anymore. I needed a clean break from the man that seemed to continue to invade my dreams and thoughts daily. I almost wanted to yell at him to tell him to stop.

A few weeks after the dinner fiasco, I was stepping out of the building and saw Jacob's unmistakable back. He clearly was just done with a jog as his clothing was sticking to him in the early spring heat. His ear was pressed to his phone and his hand was gripping the back of his hair.

The only way I could describe his stance was tense.

And I didn't want to see his face. I really couldn't do that. Mainly because I was eating my feelings recently and was bloated. I ate so much ice cream last night that I felt ill this morning and wound up sitting beside the toilet for thirty minutes.

I turned in the direction he wasn't looking and began to make my way to the pharmacy to hopefully grab some pink stuff and saltines.

"Charlotte!" I heard his distinctive voice behind me.

Fuck! I pulled at my long tank over the very tight leggings I wore and crossed my arms as I turned.

"Hey," I said softly, not even giving him any sort of eye contact.

"I was wonder..." I could see the shadows on the concrete near and his cologne invade my senses. "Hey, you okay?"

I felt so gross and ashamed standing there. Like some woman that has given up on life and hygiene because a man broke her heart.

"Yea, I'm fine," I toed at a crack on the sidewalk. "I'm just..." I picked my head up for a second and finally saw his eyes. He looked worried. I needed to get out of here quickly. "I'm sick. I'm going to the drugstore..."

"What's wrong?" He asked as my voice trailed off. "I'll go with you..."

"No!" I blurted. I couldn't spend more time with him. Not now.

"Oh, well, let me grab what you need and you go back..."

"No, Jacob!" I turned toward my goal and tightened my arms around my middle.

I felt his hand grip my shoulder. "Don't walk away from me, Charlotte," he growled, clearly getting angry by my dismissive attitude. "Look, I need to talk to you soon..."

"Okay. But not now," I said shrugging him off and walking to the store.

Luckily he didn't follow me. I was not ready for any conversations about...anything with him.

Later that day I was watching a classic movie when I heard a knock at the door. When I peered through the peephole, Liz was standing there.

"I can see your eye, bitch," she said in the other side.

"Ugh," I groaned as I opened the door. "Go away."

I headed back to the couch and she followed. "I brought some Jack and Coke. Guuurls night!"

"Negative, Ghost Rider. I think I'm sick or something. I'm watch old movies and drinking ginger ale," I said gesturing to both things.

"Lame," Liz said as she went to the kitchen and came back with a highball glass. "The boys are out tonight with some guys from work..."