Picked(7)

I did go to the zoo and the mall and things like that a few times with my Grandma Belle. Justine used to go with us, but that wasn’t always pleasant, either. Grandma Belle and my dad hated each other. She threatened to take him to court for her rights to see me after my mom passed. They ended up not going because my dad finally agreed.

We ran right into her, putting groceries in the trunk one day. I hadn’t seen her in almost a year because of the constant shield my father kept over me. I darted clear across the parking lot, Dad screaming my name behind me. I missed her back then as much as I do now. Grandma Belle was a lot like my mother, happy and always laughing. She saved me in a sense. It took her getting sick to do so, but nonetheless, she did.

My evening consisted of how it always did. Snowball met me at the door, so I fed him, popped some frozen chicken patty’s and tater-tots in the oven, and grabbed a shower. At least I had the game to use up some of my time. I was actually a little excited about it, or maybe I was just intrigued with learning more about Becker Cole.

Wrapping my wet body in a towel, I answered the only person who ever called my phone.

“Hey, let me dry off and get dressed. I’ll call you in a few.”

“Just get online. Let’s go to the club,” Justine coaxed.

“You know I should clean this house and I was going to cook.”

“You were going to do no such thing. You don’t even have anything to cook unless it’s frozen. Hurry up. Let’s go meet some guys.”

“It’s a game, Justine. You do remember that, right? We’re not really going to a club.”

“Wear something sexy.” Click. Justine was gone.

Rolling my eyes, I searched a laundry basket full of unfolded clean clothes for panties. Okay, the game had to wait. Not one pair. Throwing on a pair of shorts and a cami, I gathered a pile of clothes and headed to the washer. It had to be done. A lot needed to be done. The whole house was in shambles, but it’d have to wait until later. I wanted to get into this game, well pretend anyway. I planned on doing more research on the creator of Picked. I’d just pretend to pay attention to keep Justine off my back.

Stopping, I studied the television briefly. Hmm. A hotdog contraption to turn your hamburger’s into hotdogs. You know, so they would fit in a hotdog bun. I didn’t have any hotdog buns. I turned my attention back to my laundry. I still had that banana slicer that I never opened. I didn’t have any bananas. Maybe I should put buns and bananas on my grocery list, then I could order it. I studied the gadget while it was being demonstrated. They always made things look cooler than it was. Laundry basket in hand, I prevailed and continued with my task. I didn’t need that thing. Did I? It was pretty cool. Turning back one more time, I turned off the television, needing to not see the tempting object I didn’t need.

Thank god my food was done to perfection, except I was out of ranch dressing for my chicken patty. Oh, and I had to use the heels of bread to make a sandwich. I really needed to go to the store. Wondering what I did with my laptop, I carried my plate of food through my tiny two bedroom house. It couldn’t be too far, the place wasn’t that big. I found it after moving more clothes from the bed to the floor. That’s where I ate my supper.

Logging onto Picked, I looked around my apartment in Glitter City. “Wear something sexy, she says,” I said aloud, gaining a purr from Snowball curled at the foot of my bed. I chose from the rack of clothes, spinning in my make believe closet, wondering if everyone had the same clothes. I didn’t have much to choose from. Great, not only did I need to go shopping in real life, Picked was going to make me go shopping, too. I never was a shopper, I hated it. That probably came from being a forced recluse all those years. Thanks, Dad.

Choosing a pair of black leggings with a blue shirt, I headed out, walking down the sidewalk of the full-of-life city. The sidewalk was busy. Like really busy. Like you’d see in New York. There were a lot of players in this game. How would someone meet anyone in this chaotic mess?

“Go to Club Glitter,” Justine typed, finding me in the online game. It was just like any other social media site. You had to accept a friend request before you could actually talk to people, or so I presumed anyway. I wasn’t quite sure what exactly was going on just yet.

Looking at the map, I found my destination. UGH. The music was playing some sort of Dubstep. I hated Dubstep. And of course, I should have done the shopping trip first. I was so underdressed and dreaded the comments from Justine.

“How am I supposed to find you in here?” I typed back to Justine.

“I’m at the bar, talking to a hot guy from Delaware. OMG, Cass. He’s hot as hell.”