Page 20 of Where We Met

"Hey, pretty," a male says from behind me.

The tall figure heads toward me with a friend by his side. I shift indignantly from foot to foot.

"What's someone as pretty as you doing out here alone?" he says with a twisted smile.

I'm usually a good judge of character by first impression, and my gut is telling me these two are trouble. Their gazes hold nothing in them. The most dangerous and scary kind of eyes are one's that look like they've lost their soul and ability to feel even the tiniest bit of remorse.

I try to step away but find myself backed up against a tree. My body begins to tremble as images of all the things they could intend to do flood my brain.

"What do you want?" I ask with a shaky voice.

They continue toward me, lips turned up. "That's a loaded question, honey. I'd say at the moment… you," he growls.

I want to scream for help, but it's like one of those nightmares you have when your voice won't work. I'm paralyzed in fear. They take another step until they’re only inches away. Just as one of them reaches for me, Bailey jumps in front of me ferociously. She growls louder and more intimidatingly than I've ever heard from her. The two guys start to back away. Not satisfied with their distance, Bailey makes another sudden move in their direction, and they take off running.

Tears begin to fall down my cheeks as I lay my head against the tree. I think I was just seconds away from the worst moment of my life, from possibly thelastmoment of my life. The trembling in my body shows no signs of slowing down.

I need to get inside, knowing I can't be out here by myself for another second. Bailey begins to tug at her leash as she leads me, like she knows she needs to get me to the safety of the building. Despite my wobbly legs, I take the entryway steps two at a time and slam the door behind me. I go through making sure I've locked all the locks on my door, then take off for my bed.

As soon as I get in, I pull my white down comforter over me. Bailey is up on my bed and snuggled by my side, wrapped in my arms.

"You saved my life, Bailey," I cry. "Thank you."

She rewards me with a kiss on the nose before putting her head down and going to sleep.

Way too wound up to rest, I pick my phone up off the nightstand and start to scroll through social media. It's Friday night, so there are people posting pics of what party they're at. As the night continues, you can see in their eyes that they have consumed more and more alcohol.

I don't know what it is lately, but I've had no interest in being a part of those nights like I used to. Most people are living it up their senior year, and here I am… completely over the whole thing.

I do miss the girls, though. I would be on the couch with their worried eyes on me asking what they could do if this happened in our joint apartment. Although this likely wouldn’t have happened in the first place if I still lived with them in the nicer part of town.

One thing is for sure, looking through this stuff is doing nothing to take my mind off what just happened. I look through my apps and still feel unsatisfied with my options. Maybe I can find a new app, like a game.

I scroll through solitaire, spider solitaire, trivia, and more until I come across word search. That's exactly what I need to make my brain focus on something else, even if it's still thinking about other things in the background. At least a part of it will be occupied.

As the app starts to download, I think of Luke and all the crossword puzzles in his car. What are the odds that him and I would both be into them?

It’s just my luck to find what seems to be the perfect guy for me, yet he's totally off limits.

The app finishes downloading, so I open it up and scroll through the game options when I come across something I've never seen before.

New feature: Play A Friend.

I sit up at that, Luke immediately coming to mind. I wonder what he's doing right now, if it’d be ridiculous to reach out to him.

He did give me his number this week.

No, I could never text him to play a game with me. He gave me the number for safety purposes and emergencies.

Although, judging by the amount of word search books he had on the floor of his car, he would find this pretty cool. He did also tell me there was no way I match his skills. What better way to find out who's really the superior word search player?

I would normally never consider texting him, but after the night I've had, I don't think I can find it in me to care. Maybe this is exactly what I need to calm these jitters still coursing through my body.

I forward the game in a text to him.

Ten minutes go by without any response, and that’s when reality sets in.

I just texted my professor at ten on a Friday night.

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