It feels really good to be back. It’s incredibly difficult trying to stay focused on my writing right now. Huge waves of emotion crash into me constantly throughout the day. I could easily let them knock me down, but I know writing is the only way to keep me going. Even if it only takes a half hour to write these stories, it’s a half hour where nothing is on my mind but the next word. Writing always has been, and always will be, my escape. I’m forever grateful. All I can say about this story is that it comes from a prompt. Enjoy.
I Know You!
I was walking down the road on the way to the store when I saw her. She looked like someone I knew, so I slowed down to get a good look. She looked up and smiled when she saw me looking at her.
“Hi,” I say.
“Hey,” she says back.
“You look like someone I know.”
“You do too,” she replies.
She has short brown hair. Not the type I go for. I like blondes. Long, blonde hair. Blue eyes. Dark eye brows. Only one in a million look like that, but they’re always beautiful to me. Her eyes are green, but familiar.
“How do I know you?” I ask.
“You’re from around here, right?” she asks.
“Down the block,” I reply.
“Where are you going?”
I’m cooking dinner tonight for my father’s birthday. He doesn’t like gifts, but he has to eat, and I know what he likes, so it all works out.
“I’m picking up beer for a party later,” she says.
“You know Derek?”
“Maybe that’s how we know each other.”
The sun is beating down on us. All the trees on the block were cut down last year. There’s no escape. As we walk over an overpass, a truck underneath lets out its exhaust. We laugh at what an asshole he is, and how unlucky we are.
“How do you know Derek?” she asks.
“We went to school together. I used to hang out with him all the time.”
“Me too,” she says.
I can’t believe I don’t remember who she is. It should be obvious at this point. We finally get to the store. I have to get food, so we split up for a little bit. When I get to the beer aisle, she’s still looking for what she wants.
“Are you a craft beer person?” I ask.
“No, hipsters drink craft beer.”
“So get something cheap. It all tastes the same anyways.”
“I’m leaning towards Twisted Tea.”
“I hate beer,” she says. I remember her liking it.
We go up to pay and she invites me to the party. It starts later, so I would be able to cook dinner and go after. I tell her I’ll be there. She asks if we could go together. I tell her yes. She gives me her phone number and address, we hug, and go home.
While I’m cooking dinner, I realize I never got her name. I look at my phone: Danielle. I knew it.
“Come get me at 10,” she texts me.
“You got it,” I reply back.
I walk to her house, and follow her to Derek’s. I know he lives close by, but I never hung out with him outside of school. When ever I’ve gone to his house, someone else was driving so I didn’t have to pay attention to where we were.
“Are we close? I don’t remember it being this far away.”
“He’s on the other side of town, but we’re close.”
“Wait. I thought he was actually the other way.”
We’re not talking about the right Derek, I suddenly realize.
“What school did you go to?” I ask.
“This one, right here. Same as you, right?”
She knows now too. All we can do is stare in disbelief. I start laughing hysterically. Danielle looks horrified. Nothing makes sense, but it doesn’t matter. We seem to be getting along.
“Now what?” I ask.
“I don’t know,” she says. “I might just go.”
“Don’t. Let’s go to this party. We’re having a decent time. If I was a creep, you’d know by this time.”
“This whole situation is fucked.”
“It is, but maybe it’ll turn into something if we let it.”
We let it happen. It turns out to be a great time. Everyone thought we knew each other, that we were even dating. Couldn’t be further from the truth, but we acted like we were. Only half way into the party, when everyone was wasted, did we mention that we had no idea who we were. But we were having such a good time.
I still have no idea how it worked out. All I know is that it did, and I’ll see her later today.