6 Leti
Leti
I wouldn’t normally call myself a paranoid person, but I’ve been staring at the car behind me through my rearview mirror for seven miles.
The same Honda Civic that’s been following me back to my apartment building from the restaurant.
The very make and model I saw Julian climb into after we parted ways on the sidewalk.
Holy shit. I’m being stalked.
I didn’t believe it at first, sure that I must be seeing things when I examined his face from behind the wheel at a stoplight. But it was definitely him. His mouth was moving, like maybe he was on the phone, and I tried to calm my breathing by telling myself he could live in the area.
Now I’m frozen with fear in front of my apartment gate, Julian’s vehicle idling right behind me.
If I push the button on my keys to open the gate, I’ll be letting him in to my building.
Never mind that this whole situation defeats the purpose of living in a gated apartment complex when their systems are this shoddy.
All a potential intruder needs is for a resident to let them in.
I could circle around and try to lose him on one of the neighborhood streets, but I’m not convinced that’ll be enough if he already came this far.
I’m snapped out of my spiraling thoughts by the sound of a horn blaring.
Another car has pulled up behind Julian’s.
I heave a sigh and press the clicker on my keychain.
Maybe I’m panicking over nothing. Maybe I left my phone behind at the restaurant, and he decided to be a Good Samaritan and follow after me.
But as I pass through the gate, I look down at the console where my phone lies and see that’s not the case.
Could it have been my wallet that I left behind?
Except when I think back, I never pulled it out of my purse. He beat me to the bill before I could.
I’m breathing hard by the time I pull into the first available parking space outside my building.
Bella is right upstairs. If this turns ugly, I have her on speed dial.
She can call the police if it comes down to it.
I watch as the silver Honda pulls into a space directly in front of my building, about a foot from my car.
At this point, I have two options—I can sprint to my building and hope I’m fast enough to lose him, or wait around and see what he does first. The latter is hardly an attractive option, but I’m not exactly known for my speed either.
Besides, he’s parked closer to my building than I am.
He’ll have plenty of time to intercept me.
My god, it was one shitty date. Nothing that would warrant following me home—as if anything could possibly warrant that.
It doesn’t take long for the fear to dissipate and a simmering anger to take its place.
I’m hardly thinking in the split second I decide what to do as rage washes over me, speeding my steps as I burst out of my car and rush toward him.
He stops short when he spots me, head swinging back and forth as if wondering where I came from.
I halt in my tracks, but only for a second.
I wasn’t expecting him to look surprised.
More likely he wasn’t expecting a confrontation.
This could be part of his act. With that thought, I charge forward before he can gaslight me by asking what I’m doing here.
“Are you following me?” There’s no tactful way to ask this question, but I’ve never been one for tact anyway.
Why waste time beating around the bush when being direct gets you to the point much faster?
It’s the reason I asked him out as soon as I knew I was interested in him.
It’s the reason I called off our date the moment I realized we’d already been through this four years ago.
One date saved me a talking phase that could’ve lasted for months.
His head whips back. “What?”
“Your car was right behind me the entire way here.” I point a finger at his chest. “It’s not exactly an illogical conclusion. Answer the question.”
“God, no.” He shakes his head hard, nothing short of horrified. “Of course not!”
“Really?” My tone is dripping with disbelief.
“Then what the hell are you doing here?” I get in his face, nearly forgetting the danger I’m in.
“I mean, what the fuck kind of creep are you? What was your plan, huh? Convince me I’m making a terrible mistake?
Tell me I’m being a bitch until I agree to go out with you again? ”
“Leticia, I live here.”
He holds up his hands in surrender as I squint at him, not sure whether to believe him. Sensing my disbelief, he points at the parking sticker on the windshield of his car. Sure enough, I’m able to spot my—our—apartment’s familiar blue logo allowing him access to park.
Oh. Oh.
Oh god.
I’ve made a terrible mistake.
“I only moved here recently, if you’re wondering why you’ve never seen me around before,” he explains. “I live in 112, right over there.” He points to the ground floor of my building.
Fucking shit. We don’t just live in the same apartment complex—we’re neighbors.
“I’m not a creep, Leti, I promise you.”
“Oh.” It’s the only word that comes out of my mouth. I try again, but nothing comes. Finally, I have the good sense to say, “I…believe you. I may have overreacted.”
His mouth quirks up at the corners a smidge, as if he’s trying to hold back a grin.
When he raises a hand to cover his mouth, it’s to stifle a laugh.
I just wrongly accused the man of stalking, and now he’s laughing at me.
I should be relieved he’s not angry—he’d be well within his rights to be—but instead, I’m mortified.
“Be on your way, good sir.” I wave a hand as if I can wave away this entire conversation from existence. If only it were that easy. As it is, I have no idea how I’ll live this night down. Accidentally dates a guy twice and then accuses him of stalking. Nice going, Leti.
“Good night, Leti.” His voice is a rumble of held-back laughter. It’s inconvenient how attractive that sound is to me. As are the shivers that run through my body at the sound of it.
“Night.” My voice is a high-pitched chirp I don’t recognize.
I’ve already turned my back on him, rushing up the stairs as fast as my legs will carry me.
By the time I reach my door, I’m nothing more than a ball of burning shame.
And to make matters worse, this isn’t a memory I’ll be able to safely repress knowing I’ll never see him again.
With my luck, this is far from the last time we’ll see each other.
My best friend has a good, long laugh at my ordeal.
“Wow,” Bella exclaims. “This is going straight to the top of worst dates you’ve ever been on. Maybe even in history.”
“Thanks a lot, that gives me so much comfort.” My voice comes out muffled, as my face is currently buried in a throw pillow.
She has the nerve to laugh harder, and I burst up from the cushion with renewed anger.
“I can’t believe this is happening! What if I run into him again?
It’s bound to happen. He lives—” And then the worst part of this whole ordeal finally hits me.
No…it’s not possible.
He said he recently moved in. I haven’t met my brother’s roommate and the only thing I know about him is that they met two years ago. I’m just disengaged enough with my brother’s life that it’s entirely possible I could have missed something big.
“I have to check something.” Bella gives me a curious look as I grab my phone off the coffee table.
Julian said he lives in 112. That’s right downstairs from me…
where my brother lives. No. I’m about to shake my head, thinking my luck can’t possibly be that bad.
I scroll through my past messages with Andrew.
The last time I visited, his door was already open.
He texted his room number a couple weeks ago when I was supposed to help him move in.
Then I find it. Confirmation of my newest fear realized.
“Oh my god.” I put a hand over my mouth, horrified. Bella immediately stops laughing when she sees the look on my face.
“What is it? What’s going on?”
“He’s Andrew’s roommate.”
“Wait, what?” She squints. “How do you know?”
“When I yelled at him about stalking me, he told me his apartment number,” I say quickly. “He’s in 112.”
“Guess your luck is twice as terrible,” she says through another bout of giggles. “You think he knows who you are?”
“There’s no way. I didn’t mention having a brother anyway.” A sigh of relief deflates my shoulders as I recall the split-second decision I made to omit mentioning a younger brother. “Weirdly, it makes sense.”
“What do you mean?”
“He went on and on about people getting married and having kids too young. He literally compared it to throwing your life away.”
“Oh, that man would so not get away without a slap to the face if it were me on that date.” She sucks in a breath, shaking her head as she stares at her bedroom door where Mari is inside, asleep.
Most roommates would hate living with someone with a kid, but I love Bella’s daughter like she’s my own.
“Yeah, my palms were itching to on more than once occasion, believe me,” I say. “But Andrew said something eerily similar the last time I saw him: ‘I’m gonna need four or five more years before I end my life before it starts.’”
Bella scoffs and shakes her head at my dead-on impression.
“I sure hope Kayla knows what she’s in for,” I say.
“Someone better warn the poor girl what a future with him looks like, and soon.”
“And do you remember a few years ago when Andrew said no self-respecting man is ever early to a first date?”
“And then Julian was, what, twenty minutes late?”
“Thirty!” I correct. “It only felt like twenty because I was already ten minutes late, which is a totally forgivable length of time.”
“Oh, for sure.” Bella nods in agreement. “So you think he was late on purpose?”
“He claimed there was an accident on I-10, but who knows.” I let out a sigh. “I’m not overthinking this, am I? There’s definitely a correlation here, right?”
“It sounds pretty damning to me, but what’s that saying? Two’s a coincidence, three times is a pattern? Was there anything else?”
“Do I really need to remind you how many times my brother’s stolen my food over the years?” I slap my hands together. “It’s an open-and-shut case. Julian is officially an asshole by association.”
“An asshole you’re likely to see hanging around the building a lot, since he lives here.”
“Why’d you have to remind me.” A headache is forming at the base of my skull, and rubbing at my temples isn’t helping. “I’ll ignore him. It’ll be fine.”
“Ice him out. Classic Leti.” Bella nods, then hesitates. When I raise a brow at her, she says, “What if that doesn’t work?”
“It’ll have to.”
How much of the guy will I really see anyway? Before tonight, I never saw him. And on the off chance we do run into each other and he tries to talk to me, I’ll stick with short, curt answers. Ice him out. One way or another, I’m going to bury this night once and for all.