Mika and Emily

The Red Car

Emily’s POV

            I woke up to the sound of people. People talking in the distance. I was so tired. Did I sleep here the whole night? Ugh. Last night. I realized that I would probably need to get home. I clicked on my phone and remembered that I had work on Saturday. I tried standing up but noticed that I was still in my car with my seatbelt still on. I stepped out of the car to stretch before I made the thirty minute drive home. The cold air felt so good. I ran my fingers through my hair and squinted my eyes, trying to focus on the group of people across the parking lot. The morning sun was blinding.

            I realized that all of that they were all stage trucks parked in a line. That meant that Mika was still here! The last crew member stepped in the truck and slammed the door shut. All of the engines started at once and I watched as each truck drove away. My heart sank slowly into my stomach. That’s the last time I’d be even close to Mika. I started to feel tears roll down my face. I wonder if he realized that Mallory took my place at the show last night…

            I turned around to face my car and made sure the doors were all locked. Then I walked to the arena after I checked my phone. I had a couple minutes before I really needed to leave. I lingered around the place where Mika and I first talked. I still wrap my head around it. I met Mika. I headed back to my car after promising myself I would come back here when I felt sad. This place had such good memories. I stepped off the sidewalk when a car sped around the corner and stopped very suddenly when the driver realized he almost hit me. The car screeched to a halt and tried to identify the driver. He had large sunglasses on and a Fedora hat. He wore a gray scarf and a white V-neck t-shirt. Messy curls hung lazily from the hat and he started to smile. I started to walk across when he zoomed off past me and disappeared. The car was red and had a bumper sticker that said: I love France. Hmm. Weird.

            I got home and quickly changed into a black button-up shirt with a red tie and black slacks. I combed through my short hair and straightened out the ends. I wore black mascara and a light gold eye shadow along with a baby pink blush and clear lip-gloss. I threw my phone and extra concealer and lip-gloss in my bag and drove to work. I work at a small Italian restaurant. An Italian restaurant in France…doesn’t make sense, I know. I walked out to the driveway and noticed that there was a red car parked a couple blocks away. The driver had a newspaper in his hands and was covering his face completely with it. I couldn’t believe it! Was it the same car? I quickly got in my car and started the engine and glanced in my rear view mirror. The engine started in his car too. Oh my God. Is this creep following me? I zoomed out of the driveway and checked the back of the car before I left. To my horror, the same sticker was stuck to the bumper.

            I drove faster out of the neighborhood and the car would not get off my butt. I decided to take a different route to work. I was already late. After turning for the sixth time the stalker finally got lost. I hurried to work to start my shift. I parked behind the restaurant and signed in. My boss was really nice and told me I wouldn’t have to stay an extra half hour. I led a couple to their seats outside and took their orders. Before I went inside to post their soups and salads, I saw the red car park under a tree across the street from the restaurant. Oh God. Who is this person? I ran back inside and panicked. I watched the driver open the door and a slender leg stepper out of the car. It was wearing a dark pair of blue jeans and white Converse. I couldn’t watch anymore. I was scared out of my mind. What did this creep want from me? I went the  kitchen and gave the cook their orders. “Emily.” I felt a finger tap my shoulder. I whipped around and yelled, “What? What? What is it?” Oh. It was just Jessie. Her eyes were widen, “Um uh you just need to work table 6. That’s all.” Jessie was the closest thing I had to a friend. She was twenty-one years old but we are like sisters. “Oh okay thanks, Jess”