4. Chapter 4 #3
The walk to the closest grocery store is brisk, the air already becoming sharper with each exhale and the high sun is desperately trying to provide heat.
It gets me giddy, my favourite month of the year only weeks away.
I'd already brought out my array of autumn tone jumpers and flannels, dusting off my boots and I always had a thick collection of movie t-shirts to hand.
I lived for October and all things spooky, especially old horror classics.
Dracula, Monster Squad, The Lost Boys. Pure cinematic magic made to appease our spook obsessed brains.
Sliding on my headphones to drown out some of my surroundings, I enter the store, immediately grab a basket and head down the aisle in front of me, picking up a few things because we don't have the biggest refrigerator and we all can't seem to figure out a fair balance.
Anytime either of us tries to work out a schedule to maybe share food or split cleaning, the conversation always ends in utter chaos.
We all do our own shopping and clean up after ourselves.
I get a little impulsive with the hoover so I end up covering both floors anyway.
My feet naturally guide me to the decor section on the hunt for autumnal goodies, but my shoes catch against vinyl when I hear two familiar voices over my low music. One is placating but the other soothes every muscle in my body.
Cass is here.
I’m about to breach the aisle he’s down, so I throw myself low on the corner shelving, crouching whilst I yank my headphones off and shove them into my backpack. I even discard my shopping basket, edging around the corner slightly to see if I can get a peek without being caught.
There he stands in all his glory and unfortunately Grace is with him, but she seems disinterested looking at her phone.
This woman never pays him enough attention, the atmosphere between them quiet but it feels so dry—far from a comfortable silence.
Cass wears a black denim jacket with jeans that are so well fitted, I could lick his toned legs.
His white t-shirt contrasts against all that black, especially the tattoo’s that show over the neckline.
He looks smart, like they’re heading out into the city for some drinks, but what I like about him is the way he still leaves his hair a mess of curls.
I’d assumed they were spending the day together, but dragging my gaze down Grace’s appearance, she looks ready to jump into a study cocoon that consists of her not moving out of bed all weekend.
Her hair is tied up messily and she wears a giant rugby hoodie supporting the city, with sweats and trainers.
I’ve never seen her so casual, so maybe they’re on their way back from his.
I don’t know where he stays—the problem that got me into our little confrontation in the first place.
Cass studies a cute Halloween themed mug with bats on it, whilst she sighs and finally pulls her face away from her phone.
“I’m sorry, I think I’m going to spend the weekend catching up on my lit paper. I didn’t finish the last two chapters either. I'm not going to be able to come up with a summary.”
Fiddling with the mug, he pops it down on the shelf and drifts to a small trolley that is half filled with fresh vegetables and meat. “That’s fine, I can cook us dinner tonight and you can crack on.”
“No Casper. I’m going to head back to mine and lock myself away till it’s done. You know I can’t fall behind, we’ve not even been back at uni for a month!” She says, sighing exasperated, like she’s already tired of having to explain this to him.
Tilting his head up to look at the overhead lights, I see the side of his jaw flex and he unhooks his hand from the trolley. “Why are we here then babe? Why are we food shopping if we’re not getting anything for dinner?”
Grace shrugs, returning to her phone and tapping her nails on the screen. “I don’t know—I thought you were getting something.”
“So when I asked you what you fancied for later, whilst outside the shop, you didn’t think anything of that?”
“No, I thought you might have wanted inspiration for your meal prep.”
“Baby fucking Jesus.” I hear him mutter, but she’s oblivious to his sour mood and the way he stares a little sad at her.
Tapping something out, Grace pockets her phone into her joggers pocket and closes the distance between them to place a light kiss to his cheek.
“I’ll see you on Monday. Let’s try that Thai place that just opened on the bank, yes?
” She doesn’t wait for him to even reply, before leaving the aisle thankfully not in my direction.
I watch him shift from foot to foot before his head drops, returning to the trolley.
Before continuing though, he backs up a few steps and stares once again at the bat mug, his hand snaking out to grab it and place it down with his food.
Still crouched on the floor, I stretch my neck further out into the open as Cass carries on shopping, his steps rushed like he’s determined to get out of the store.
I use my knuckles to move my body away from the shelving, rushing myself over to the next row and as I duck down, he starts to make his way down looking at the snack options.
Slowly I bring my phone out of my pocket, opening my social media app, I’m already still logged into my masked account and I pull up the message to Cass.
I’d left the conversation there last night, but I am dying to see his reaction in the light of day.
@yourghostboy: What are you wearing?
I wait what feels like a lifetime before he pulls out his phone, glancing between it and a package of popcorn, before his attention fully snaps to his device.
Discarding the food, his brows furrow together and he looks pissed.
Something flutters in my chest. Why do I like getting that reaction out of him?
His fingers fly over his phone and a reply pops up on my end, causing the brightest cheshire cat smile to rage on my face.
@Cass.cowbells: Why do you want to know?
@yourghostboy: Boring. Play with me.
@Cass.cowbells: What part of fuck off do you not understand?
I scroll up through our conversation and smirk.
@yourghostboy: I’d understand it if you’d actually told me to. Say the word and I’ll stop.
He lets out a loud sigh that has a passing pensioner nearly flinching out of her skin.
Scrambling to apologise, he helps her by reaching up to grab a bargain price set of Tupperware from the top shelf.
I have to stifle my laugh into my jumper sleeve, watching as he helps her, before returning his intense glare on the phone screen.
He starts to type something and I see the three little dots flutter on my own device, but then they stop.
I think he deletes it, before looking up at the fluorescent lights on the ceiling.
He’s fighting against something inside of him, but if he could only release some of that tension crippling his shoulders right now, I think he at least muses this anonymous interaction.
I’m starting to get a burning in my calves that isn’t fun, so when Cass doesn’t reply, I send another message.
@yourghostboy: send me a photo of you.
Whipping my eyes upwards, I see the moment he receives the message because he starts to fidget and from here I can almost see his neck become a deep red colour under his tattoos that creep up his neckline.
He lowers the phone and something inside me sinks, until I watch him swipe something on his phone, curse at himself before raising it slightly above him and take a picture of his tall frame standing in the grocery store.
He awkwardly smiles, unsure what he’s doing, but I don’t miss the way the muscles flex in his arms and chest. His broad shoulders fill out as he takes the picture, before groaning and berating himself.
“Ugh, Casper ya’ fucking Eejit.” I hear him say, before he grabs onto his trolley and pushes it more urgently.
I’m left with a giant grin on my face, so wide it almost hurts to do so.
Nothing comes through via our online conversation, but I witnessed with my own eyes how despite the inner war with himself, he obeyed my command and took the picture.
I know there is something inside of Cass that is banging on its cages, wanting out and oh boy, it’s going to be so much fun picking the lock and letting it free.
Unable to hide my face behind a hood, because a certain sexy Scot still has my favourite hoodie, I wait a few minutes to give him time to scan his shop.
Keeping behind the small group of customers leaving the store, I follow him around the back, to the car park and lean against the trolley dock like I’m innocently digging into my backpack.
If he saw me here I could pretend to be entering the shop, the excuse becoming a little unrealistic as I hover next to cars, following him to a red Ford.
He throws his groceries into the boot and then gets in his car, the roar of the engine coming to life as I hide a little behind the car next to his.
I could pretend to be tying my lace or maybe pass this vehicle off as mine if he looks to the left and sees me out of the passenger side.
I don’t believe in a higher power, but something has to be working in my favour when the little voice in his car’s surround system belts out his address, after he requests to have the directions.
Bingo.
The fun has only just gotten started.
I waited a couple more minutes discreetly hanging around the car park until I see his car pass through the exit, before shamelessly following on foot. I just want a little peak at his actual home. I mean, I'd gotten it so wrong when I waited outside of Grace's window.
Heading back in the direction of where most of the students house the city, if my memory is correct–aswell as Google maps–he’s only a few blocks over. I can walk through the park which has a walking trail and fields, but it pops me out directly opposite his street.