This Old Man

part three

This old man, saw him thrice, this time by the old school gate. And then he looked up, and our eyes met. He gave me a crooked wave.

~~~~~~

It was on a Wednesday that I saw the old man again and this time I didn't shrug it off as a mere coincidence.

My mom had been nagging me for the past few days to return home since I had been staying with my dad for a while. You must think I failed to mention that my parents are divorced, but I didn't believe that it actually mattered until now. Anyways, my mom was complaining that she missed me and such. But between you and me, I played the role of father. Have I mentioned that I am a girl? I had taken on the responsibilities my dad had around the house, expect paying the bills. Whenever my siblings and I—I have a younger brother and a younger sister—were at my dad's place, I would play the role of mom.

Of course, I went to school with a little more weight than usual because I had a bag of stuff I always took each my parents houses. I was really starting to think about buying two of each for each house, but I'm digressing here.

I had left my car at mom's because my dad had wanted to pick me up, so he's been taking and picking me up from school.

My last lesson was history. I love history! But the thought of the old man watching me in the park had been a disturbing thought for days. So, as you can conclude, I was distracted for the majority of the class. There was even one time when I was staring out the window, and I thought the old man was there, watching me.

Crazy, right? No, not crazy.

In the middle of class, my dad texted me saying he would be late, so I either had to wait for him or walk to my mom's.

For the remaining thirty minutes of the class, I sat thinking of what would've happened if I had been driving home the day I first saw the old man. I was most likely going to drive past him and never notice him. And then I wouldn't be here killing neurons thinking about him.

Finally, the bell rang, and I hurried out of class. My friend—who was also my crush—offered me a ride and I denied it because I didn't feel like hearing him flirt with me, and other girls or flirting with him. Yes, it was one of those friendships. Everyone knew she should be together, we knew we should be together, but until he stopped being a manwhore, it was not going to happen.

I saw the old man when I was in the hallway. The doors that led outside were made of glass so everything on the other side could be seen as clear as...well, as clear as glass.

Unlike the other times I saw him, he wasn't looking down. He was staring at me.

Fumbling with my things, I hastily closed my locker and picked up my bags. I dared one more glance at the old man, and he gave me a crooked wave. I jogged to meet my friend that had offered me a ride and told him I had changed my mind.

As we drove past the old school gate, the old man hadn't moved. Instead, he kept waving at me and this time, he had a nasty smile on his face.