❝Maybe there's a whole bunch of impossible people waiting for me out there. Waiting to make me feel that same uncertainty again and again.❞
Allison Romero has never had any luck when it comes to finding love, or maintaining friends...or just about...
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a/n I really hate ghost readers. If you like the story please make sure to at least vote or comment, it really helps and it only takes a second of your day. Thanks x
20: CHAPTER TWENTY
THE town I live in hasn't changed a bit.
I park Sabrina's battered car on the side of the road and lock the door behind me as I drape my arms around myself for warmth. People hastily bustle around in an attempt to evade the cold and I rush through the horde of people swamping the sidewalk as I enter Walmart.
I grab a shopping cart and read through the list my mother has given to me earlier this morning.
Eggs
Milk
Cheerios
Peanut butter
Chicken Broth
Vegetable oil
Tuna
A deep puff of breath flees my lips. Oh, mother. I begin to collect the items and set them into the cart, snagging a Mars bar along the way for me. After I have scanned my items and rummaged through my pockets for the money my mother had given to me, I roll my cart outside towards the car.
While in the process of hauling the groceries into the backseat of the car, my name is called out by a voice that makes my blood run cold. "Allison Romero!" A familiar voice calls out. "Is that you?"
Please go away. I grab the cart and speed away from Sabrina's car parked on the side of the road. Instead, I duck my head down and sprint away, pretending I can't hear my name being called. I toss a brief peek over my shoulder to see that he's gaining speed on me. Oh, what a nightmare.
As I'm panickedly looking over my shoulder, I turn back around only to bump into an old man slowly passing alongside me. He screeches as his cane drops to the floor and I come to an abrupt halt, my hands flying up to cup my mouth. "Oh my, I am so sorry!" I cry out. My face bursts into flames as people walking by pass me looks of disappointment. "I wasn't looking."
"Clearly," the old man sneers. He snatches his cane from the floor and walks past, muttering obscenities under his breath.
Could this day just get any worse? I sheepishly twist around and find myself face to face with none other than a former classmate of mine; Toby Moore. "Hey," I mutter and lift my hand up to chuck him a slight wave.
