loml | Taylor Swift gxg

Fortnight | Chapter 1

I never really care about what I look like when I'm shopping. Do you blame me? No.

When I was around 13, I sure did. I'd dress all fancy, trying to impress the older kids I'd walk by.

But now I'm older. Practically double the age. Now I'm just a 25-year-old middle school teacher. Awesome. I know.

Right now, I have my favorite pair of sweatpants on, a tight black sweater, and a cross necklace. I am trying to keep clothing light since the Durham heat is not doing me any favors. And I am not overly religious. Barely religious, actually. I keep this cross necklace on because my grandparents gave it to me. It is so incredibly special to me. I guess you could say I'm a very sentimental person.

Said sentimental person is aimlessly strolling down a Super Target. As the cart bumps into a random stand, I snap back into reality. I make sure no one was around to witness my very embarrassing attempt to look mysterious.

I park my cart outside a clothing section. I'm looking at the t-shirt section in the women's section, carefully looking at each article of clothing. I look over at the next t-shirt, seeing a Taylor Swift shirt. I scoot over some, bumping into a tall woman. Last thing I see before we both topple over, is a pair of sunglasses falling off her face.

As I curse to myself, I grab her broken pair of sunglasses and stand up, seeing that she's a mere 5'10. She has blonde hair, amazing cheekbones, and cheeks covered in a light flush.

Great. We both find this humiliating.

I notice something- is that fucking Taylor Swift?

"Holy fuck!" Is all I can get out of my mouth. I stick my hand out to help her up, which she gladly takes. My face is now suddenly way more flushed than before. I'm genuinely embarrassed now.

"Thank you.." She says shyly. She takes her sunglasses and the lenses, putting them in her purse. She plays with the end of her hair now, studying my face and the rest of my body, inch by inch, very carefully.

I clear my throat. "I am so sorry." I gulp, lowering my voice to a whisper. "Not just because you look like Taylor Swift. I am not assuming."

"I, um, am." She states at the same voice level as me. She's really awkward.

"I am a huge fan, but I take it you don't want to hear that right now, since you were kind of hiding your face." I respond nervously. I itch the palm of my hand. I cannot deal with this right now. She is so breath-taking, and she is wearing boring-ass clothes and has the bare minimum of makeup on, majority of her face is just pure, raw, Taylor Swift.

Arianna Grande was right; God is a woman.

Never mind that, Taylor Swift is in front of me!

My comment seems to restore her confidence. "No, no! We can take a photo, or I can autograph something!" She says, replying fast to me.

I chuckle some. "That'd be nice. But I do owe you a new pair of sunglasses... Let me get that for you first." I say. I am so worried about how I am coming off, but God should only strike me down if I'm doing the wrong thing.

"Don't worry about it! I just was looking at the, you know, Taylor Swift stuff." She pauses. "I might seem really weird right now." She quietly laughs to herself. She doesn't give me any chance to respond before she silently mutters, "Can I get your number?" She furrows her eyebrows some as she asks this question.

Guess what my answer was.

***

I'm home now, in my cozy apartment. I open her contact information, clicking the message button.

Shit, my hands are sweaty. I don't know if it's from carrying in groceries or my fingers hovering over the "Hi, this is the girl from Target" message.

I click send. My heart feels like it's just been shredded, and I am giving her like half the pieces. God, I hope that's how she's feeling right now.

There was nothing romantic that happened today at Super Target. I have so many questions. Why was she in North Carolina? And Durham? Of all places? Why did she ask for my number? Did she think I was cute?

"Fuck."

I turn off my phone, placing it on the counter as I begin putting groceries away. Once I am done, I lay down on my sofa, draping a blanket it over me.

The phone buzzes on the counter.

I groan. Loudly. I think my neighbors could hear me.

I get up, grabbing my phone before flopping back onto the couch.

Though the message makes me sit back up.

"Can we meetup tomorrow? I only plan for being here for a fortnight."

jaelzver

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