Evelyn

Chapter 14 - I Hate Clocks

Derek laughed too, "Yeah, sorry again. I've been told I give off that impression. I think it's my eyes. I have creepy eyes."

"We all have our things, it's no worry. And now that I've established that you're not going to stab me with a kitchen knife, it's very nice to meet you."

"You too. And would you please do me a favor and not tell Michael about our meeting? I was only supposed to be in town for a few days for work but I asked to stay longer so I could visit him. I want to surprise him tomorrow night."

"I won't say a thing then. And tomorrow night Michael and I will be out on a date, so he won't be at his apartment."

"Oh?"

"Yeah," I gesture to the endless rows of pasta sauce in front of me. "I'm trying to pick which pasta sauce to get."

Derek looked at all of the sauces and grabbed one from the back. "Get this one. Our mom used to make this one for us when we were younger. He'll like it."

"Thank you," I say sincerely. Wow, I really was wrong about him.

"I should get going. You have a good evening, Evelyn."

"Thank you, you too. Tell your dog I say happy birthday."

Derek smiled at me again, warm and appreciative, "Thank you, I will."

~~~

In an effort to be more active (and save gas money), I decided to walk to the market. It seemed like a great idea on the walk there, but now I'm beginning to regret that decision.

No person in their right mind wants to carry three full bags of food and other obscure items four blocks down the street. The amount of weird looks I got wasn't even funny.

What was funny though was people watching. Now that I'm not focused on trying not to crash my car or get irrepressible road rage, I can really study my surroundings. Specifically the people.

I've recently created a new people watching game I like to call "People Who I Think Would Survive the Zombie Apocalypse." The rules are that I observe someone for anywhere between one to five minutes to see whether I think they would survive the zombie apocalypse or not. I look at their clothes, what they're holding, their personality, etc.

For instance, the man across the street from me is in his mid thirties and wearing flip-flops and a polo shirt. He looks like he's fresh off the golf range and is on his way to meet his friends for a few beers. He's pretty athletic, so that gives him the advantage. But his choice in shoes are horrific. In zombie movies, you never see people running away from zombies in flip-flops, it's always tennis shoes because that's practical. All it takes is for the front of the flip-flop to get caught in a crack on the sidewalk and boom, Mr. Man is dead. Eaten alive all because he didn't put on a pair of sturdy shoes.

However, he looks like he has the survival skills to survive. He seems smart enough to know to take his shoes off and risk the blisters in exchange for his life. However, apart from his muscular build and overall athletic look, I think he'd survive the apocalypse because of his backpack. It's not big, but it could be carrying something he needs for survival or, if all else fails, he can throw is at a zombie and buy himself some time.

I nod my head, content at my revelation. Some could say that I'm insane for taking such an intense interest in other people's lives, but really I think I'm just creative. Or bored. One of the two.

No one Can fault me for not knowing ways to pass the time though, I'm already at my apartment. The walk would've been much less interesting if I hadn't been so preoccupied with the potential life of stranger, so I call it a win.

~~~

Everything is ready for mine and Michael's date now.

I spent the last two hours building the most intricate pillow fort on the planet and I couldn't be prouder.
I have soft music playing to create a nice vibe in the room. I even have the food ready for cooking on the counter so we can cook together. Even luckier for me, my apartment isn't freezing cold or boiling hot. It's just right. Everything is just right.

Next on the list of things to do before Michael gets here is to check my hair in the mirror. I have it in French braids and for once there aren't a bunch of small strands poking out of the braid. I told him the attire was casual, like 'wear your pjs or else' causal. So I'm wearing my superhero themed sweatpants and a t-shirt.

I check the time and it's seven fifty five. Michael said he'd be over at 8.

And all that left to do is wait.

And wait.

And wait.

I called him again at half past eight to see where he is. He doesn't call me back.

I watch as the hands on the clock move while I stay frozen in place, watching a door that hasn't opened.
I call him again at ten. I hope for a response, I don't get one.

With each tick of the clock I feel like I'm being laughed at, mocked for being so naive that I thought he wouldn't be like the rest.

Even though it's midnight, I can help but sit facing the door and hearing the endless tick, tick, tick.

~~~

HEYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY
First of all, sorry for that. I felt the pain writing it. Poor Evelyn.
Michael stood up Evelyn. He better have a good reason or I'm gonna smack him.
And what's up with the sudden change with Derek? What ever could he be planning. I definitely don't know anything about it...
If anyone has school and/or work this week, good luck! You've got this!
Also, if anyone has something or nothing to do this week, you've got this. You rock.
Thanks for 3k views! I appreciate it!