Chapter 7
Leo
When I return from my morning run, the apartment is empty; Kai is nowhere to be found, and the TV is broken, along with what used to be our glass living room table.
I left the apartment right after Kai watched Rachel discover the security system he installed in her house, or, to be more accurate, right as Rachel was taking down said security system with a sledgehammer.
I guess he didn’t take it well, judging from the state of our living room.
What did he expect? A thank-you note? Talk about delusion.
This man needs therapy the way humans need water.
It’s needed for his survival. At this rate, he will soon get his ass locked up in a cell, and I will have to figure out how to support the bar on my own.
I am about to pull up his contact on my phone and call him when a text arrives instead.
I read the message twice because what the hell?
I type a response. What he means ‘you are welcome’ who would thank him for that?
Who would track someone without their consent?
I take a deep breath and type a response while thinking every possible scenario of this situation going south, which is every possible scenario in general.
I can’t think of one possibility of this ending in a good way.
Kai’s impulsive ass will be the reason of my death before I even reach thirty.
They will roll my ass to the morgue with a note ‘Kai is responsible’.
Me: Did I ask for Noah’s location, and I don’t remember it? What the hell happened while I was on a run?
It’s official. Kai has lost it. Apparently it’s not enough he has gone full stalker mode on Rachel; he needs me to follow his footsteps.
He is like a disturbed psychotic Yoda. I am not doing it Kai.
I am not going to become part of the problem.
I am not a fucking stalker. I am a good man. I respect people.
Problem#1: Everything is good, don’t you worry about it. Have fun stalking Noah. I have a dinner date to attend.
He sure doesn’t mean Rachel’s dinner date, right?
Rachel apparently thought it was a good idea to go on a date with a guy.
Something she arranged in front of the hidden cameras in her kitchen right after she figured out their existence.
Honestly, at this point, I am convinced this woman is my friend’s other half.
A female version of his unhinged self. In a moment of delusion, I choose to believe that’s not what he's talking about because I am not going to be an accomplice to his stupid plan. I refuse. I remove my running shoes and shed my clothes as I walk to my bathroom. I turn the shower on and hop in. I let the hot stream of water relax my body as I contemplate the information I received. I am obviously not going to use the app to track Noah. I am not like Kai. I don’t stalk people.
“I am not going to stalk Noah; that’s not me.
I am not a stalker.” I say it to nobody but myself loud enough in hopes the words creep into my subconscious.
Kai is the stalker in our friendship. I would never do something like that.
Stalking is wrong. It’s a crime. I don’t do crimes, anymore.
I am a law-abiding citizen. I won’t fall into Kai’s trap because he wants company in his delusion.
I am not dropping to his level of insanity.
“I am not a stalker.” I say louder as I finish my shower and step out. I wrap a towel around myself and head for my bedroom.
“I am not a stalker.” I repeat as I put on my boxers, pants, and a t-shirt.
“Not a damn stalker.” I put on my shoes and tie the laces.
“This is not me.” I repeat each sentence, sounding more ridiculous than the previous one.
I don’t even believe myself. What happened to me?
How did I become this person? Am I actually considering this?
No. No, I am not. I am not going to stalk him.
“I am definitely not a stalker.” I say louder, as if I am trying to convince myself of it.
Clearly, I am failing. I open the app and find where Noah is.
He is at a cafe on the other side of town, one known for its reader-friendly atmosphere and good-quality coffee.
I love that coffee shop. I used to take my ex-girlfriend there for reading dates until she broke my heart.
From that day, I never stepped foot in that place again.
“It’s not stalking if I happen to pass by.
” I say as I grab my car keys and head for the door.
“Yes. It’s not stalking. I just happened to pass by.
” I say again with confidence, and this time I almost believe it.
I am just going to get some coffee. That’s all.
Everyone likes coffee on Sunday evenings. It’s not suspicious.
The coffee shop isn’t that far from where we live. It’s not unusual to travel for good coffee. Anyone would have driven ten minutes for a coffee. Their coffee is cheap, too. If you think about it, I am saving money by going there.
“What? A man can’t get coffee on the other side of the town on a Sunday?” I argue with myself as I enter my car.
“It’s not stalking; I just want coffee.” I’m starting to sound more confident, if you don’t count the fact that I am talking to myself like a lunatic. I start the car and head for where Noah’s dot is blinking. Because most importantly, I am not a stalker.
“I am not stalking him if I don’t say hi.” I whisper to myself as I speed the car, leaving tire marks on my passing, until I am in front of the coffee shop.
“A coffee would be totally nice right now.” I convince myself as I exit my car and walk to the coffee shop door, even though I haven’t had coffee after six p.m. for years.
It messes with my nerves. Even my doctor had advised me against it.
Yet here I am, getting coffee at eight p.m. on a Sunday just because the guy I like is in there.
No, that’s a lie. I don’t like Noah. He is not even my type.
I don’t do attachments. That’s not my style.
That’s Kai. Not me. I am not a stalker. The moment I enter, Noah’s eyes find mine.
Not a stalker, my ass. I definitely am stalking this man. Fuck.