Page 13 of Catching Camila

“Umph,” said a voice from inside the dumpster. Camila froze. A head appeared.

“Oh I…” she stammered. Her mouth dropped open as a man peered out at her from the dumpster.

He was tall with brown hair and dark eyes and handsome as hell. He grabbed the lip of the dumpster and swung himself out. Despite his size—over six feet, broad shoulders, muscular arms—he moved like a gymnast. In the orange light from the bulb over the door, she took him in. Maybe twenty with a crop of sexy stubble on his cheeks. He stood facing her, his back to the dumpster and his eyes tracking her every movement.

She took a step back.

“Sorry,” he said, watching her face. His whole body was clenched.

“Sorry?” She blinked. “I’m the one who threw garbage on your head.”

He said nothing, just watched like a frightened animal. She scanned his clothes, the too small T-shirt, tight women’s running shorts, no shoes. What was he doing in a dumpster?

“Were you…” She looked up at his face. “Were you looking for something to eat?”

Even in the dark, she could see the embarrassment flood him. He shook his head and tucked his hands behind his back, a banana peel clutched in one fist.

“You don’t have to do that,” she said. “We have fresh bananas.”

His eyes followed her as she set the garbage bag on the ground.

“Stay here,” she said. “I’ll be right back.” As she walked back into Lizzy’s, she could feel his eyes on her the whole way.

Inside the building, her thoughts buzzed. What was she thinking? She was going to go back into a dark alley with some stranger who was twice her size, armed with nothing but a handful of bananas? She was nuts. She glanced at Fer, who was mopping the back corner with her headphones stuffed in her ears, some indie rock blaring. Camila snagged a bunch of bananas from the counter, tucked them under her arm and raced out the back.

When she got back, he was gone.

She searched the dark alley, walking to the smelly dumpster and peering in. No sign of him. Her arms drooped. The bananas were a pitiful offering.

“Camila!” Fer yelled from the doorway behind her. “Quit dickin’ around out there.”

Camila shot a glance toward the door. Should she tell Fer? And risk the scolding of her life? She walked back, the bananas at her side. “I thought these were bad. I was going to throw them out.” She held up the bananas and shrugged.

Fer picked up the bunch. “These are fine,” she said, inspecting them. “Besides, you shouldn't hang out here alone. This is rapist central when it gets dark.”

Camila nodded, walking back inside with Fer.

She turned and looked once more. Would he be safe out there alone?

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