“Oh, shoot! Stop here!” I said, as I noticed the lit neon sign in the gas station window.
“What? Why? We’re almost to your apartment.”
“They’re still open. I need to get eggs.” I said.
“Just do it tomorrow or something. Who buys their eggs at a dirty gas station, anyway?”
“C’mon, stop. I really need them. Egg-whites for breakfast every morning. That’s my new diet thing and I don’t want to break my streak.”
Kaitlyn sighed as she turned her signal on and slowed at the entrance. “I’m too good to you, you know that?” she said. “But hurry, ‘cause I’m not going in.”
“It’s fine, you don’t have to wait,” I said. “It’s only a five-minute walk from here and I could use the fresh air.”
She stared at me quizzically as we pulled up to the glass front of the building. “Are you sure you’ll be okay? Because I was joking. I don’t mind waiting.”
I threw the door open and stretched my tired legs out into the cool night air.
“Uh, I think I’ll be fine rich girl. I know this isn’t Beverly Hills, but it’s not like I live in the hood. I’ll text you when I get home.”
“Okay, you better. And don’t even think about calling ‘Mr. Limpdick’ because you know that’s not what you really want.”
I slammed the door shut with mock anger and put my hands on my hips.
She gave me the finger, then smiled and nodded toward the young guy working behind the counter inside. He had been watching our little interaction.
Kaitlyn flipped her hair and gave him a tantalizing wink before putting it in drive and disappearing into the night.
I found an adequate carton on the third try. The first one I opened was a mess of broken shell and leaking yolk. The second was simply missing two eggs. Maybe this area was a little more “hood” than I had been willing to admit.
With future breakfast in hand, I made my way to the counter. The poor kid working the register, all 145 pounds of him, could barely stand to speak, let alone make eye contact with me. Somewhere in between my amusement at the shy cashier and my efforts to fish a credit card out of my purse, another customer slipped into the store.
My brain registered the familiar “ding” that every convenience store front door makes when you walk through it, but I didn’t give it any real thought until I realized that the new arrival had made his way into line behind me.
I don’t know why I felt off about it, but I did. He had a looming presence. The air around him stunk like cheap tobacco and I could practically feel his hot breath on my neck. Was he standing really close, or was I imaging things?
The shy cashier’s hand shook like a leaf as he handed back the receipt. I realized that maybe I wasn’t the one having an effect on him as he glanced apprehensively over my shoulder.
I suddenly wanted nothing more than to get out of here.
“Anything else?” the cashier asked.
“No… Thanks.” I replied, grabbing my credit card and quickly making my way to the door.
Once outside I started to feel better. I couldn’t completely shake the feeling I had in the store, but my unease was quickly settling as I took in a breath of the cool night air. I couldn’t wait to get home and throw open the windows.
My condo was in a cute, older building on the west side of town. It sat just a couple of blocks off the main drag and backed up to a beautiful greenbelt. On quiet mornings, I could sit on my back patio and listen to the birds talk. It wasn’t the most luxurious of places, but it held a certain charm and struck the perfect balance between city and suburbs. It was one of the few things in life I was really proud of.
A quick succession of footsteps snapped me out of my condo reverie. I couldn’t be sure if they came from behind me because of the strange acoustics on the side street, but the sound was definitely made by leather slapping pavement.
I drew a sharp breath, held it, and waited. Silence. Everything inside of me suggested I should look back over my shoulder, but I couldn’t force myself to do it. My logical brain told me there was nothing to be concerned about. The footsteps were probably inconsequential. It was just someone walking to their car or letting their dog out…
But my intuition screamed DON’T LOOK BACK! THE BOOGEY MAN WILL GET YOU!
All at once I was struck by my foolishness. How could I be so stubborn to think it was a good idea to walk home this late at night? Why did I insist on telling Kaitlyn to go? Why did I leave the relative safety of a busy gas station if something didn’t feel right?
I steeled my nerves, let the breath go slowly, and walked. Any sense of safety that I was holding on to disappeared when the mysterious footsteps returned to match my own. I felt my pace quicken. It was happening almost automatically, like I was on autopilot.