Coincidences

Act XLVIII

The metal door felt heavier than usual, probably because the rust was making it age by the minute. The sunlight blared through our pupils, and it took us a while to adjust to the brightness.

When my eyes could finally see, I saw a serene figure standing there, with a sweet dress dancing with the early autumn wind. Their eyes settled, too, and they saw the same thing.

Zoey was sitting peacefully on the cement ground, munching on a donut, and watching the partly cloudy sky. The very view of her was overly astounding, leaving me speechless for a while. She seemed so perfect.

I fell in love with her even more.

Emotions flowed through my veins. Desire. Guilt. Anger. And new ones appeared. Lust. Ambition. Passion. I have no idea what I'm going through. This is not the usual me. My mind wanted to reach out to her, but I was restrained by Johnny's advice. I wanted to disregard it, but my love etched out everywhere in a confusing way. What to do, what to do.

Zoey turned around, baffled about our sudden presence. Without muttering a single word for what seemed like an eternity, she finally was able to phrase out, "What are you doing here?"

I, no, we had a loss of words when she said that. None of us were able to answer right of the bat, not even a syllable.

"Guys?"

I discreetly pinched myself to come back to my senses. "Yeah, you were saying?" I blurted out.

"I haven't said anything yet," she slowly articulated, composing herself. "All I asked was, 'What are you doing here?'."

Ty gestured at the door, and he said, "We were just walking around. Stopped by."

"Oh," she said. She stood up and brushed the dust off her clothes. "I see."

Again with the long awkward silences. She crumpled up the paper bag she had and rolled it into a ball, holding it tight with her hand. Checking, she wiped her mouth to get rid of any crumbs or chocolate. The wind kept on messing up her hair, so she had to comb it properly with her fingers. We got to stop it with these unnecessities. I said "we", because I unconsciously minded my own business by playing with my hands, while the other two kept on stretching their heads.

I don't intend to break my vow to let her be, but this isn't looking good. Am I sure this method is foolproof?

Until, unexpectedly, she started talking, "I've made up my mind. You want to know who I like?"

Excited, curious, and worried, I thought of what she could possibly mean by that. Looks like the plan he devised worked. It worked. But I still didn't know the outcome. Mr. Reed never mentioned anything about the outcomes. What could happen? Anything could happen. The world has spun the wheel of fortune. Or misfortune, I dunno.

I should have given her enough space. I did my part, right? The odds should be at my favor, right?

Please, let it be me. You don't know what I've been through, Zoey, and I did you no wrong. I have been with you the longest, I helped you with your problems.

Please. My emotions are mixed up into an improvised smoothie (That's a weird analogy).