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I had to admit, I was as well. I picked up the phone, swallowing against the boulder in my throat. Relief flooded me at the same time anxiety spiked.
We had a match. I said the words to Koa and he immediately came over, forgetting the tea he was making for both of us. “Who is it?”
I opened the app and saw the picture. Immediately my Bigfoot took a liking to her. She was shorter and curvy with long brown hair.
“What’s her name?” Koa asked.
“Druscilla,” I whispered. If I said it too loudly, she might go away. “What the hell do we do now?” I asked Koa and the app and the universe and anyone who would answer.
“It asks if we want to blow her a kiss or wave or send her a message,” Koa read the instructions from the app on his own phone. “Blowing her a kiss sounds stupid.”
I had to agree. “We can send her a message. Say hi. What’s the worst that could happen?”
He chuckled. “She could run for the hills.”
“And if we don’t, we might miss her. I’m doing it. No time like the present.”
It took less than two minutes to decide and less than that to send the message. After it was sent, we sat back and both let out a long breath.
“Waiting a-fucking-gain,” Koa said.
Chapter Seven
Druscilla
Another shift at the gas station convenience store had me wondering about my life choices. Some nights, I just wanted to call in my resignation, lock the store, and shove the keys through the mail slot in the door. This was one of those nights.
I’d arrived just in time to clean up a broken six-pack of beer someone dropped by the cooler. No sooner had I swept and mopped up the shattered glass and far more liquid than it seemed six bottles could contain, than one of the coffee machines sprang a leak, sending boiling-hot liquid to form a lake on the tiles. And of course, a customer couldn’t figure out how to use the gas pump and insisted I come out and do it for them. One thing and another and another… I was getting too old for this and starting to wonder why I was fussing about my thesis at all. It was a done deal, and all I needed to do was send the final draft to my advisor to trigger the rest of the steps. I was fully prepared to defend it, but I still felt like it wasn’t enough, a cop-out.
“Excuse me, ma’am?” The shrill tone of the customer holding an armload of junk food that the shrieking children darting around the store and creating mayhem did not need nearly pushed me over the edge. That and calling me ma’am.
But I made my tone extra sweet. “Hi. Will that be all?” I reached for the items to ring them up, but she jerked back. “Are these the only kinds of tortilla chips you have?” She had about eight types, so what…
“Yes, I think so.” A crash as one of the little darlings took out a display of cookies on an end cap was the final straw. “You’ll have to pay for any they damaged.”
“Well, I never!” She let the chips she held fall to the floor and kicked them aside. “Come on, children. This lady is trying to rip us off.”
I knew she was caught on camera, and her picture would go up in the back room so other staff members would know to watch out for her. Some nights were not like this, but others, well…
Another hour of cleanup and I hit a blessed lull. Outside, customers filled their tanks, but none seemed to want to buy any snacks or wanted a receipt from pump 1. I often wondered what they wanted with the scraps of paper anyway. A lot of them ended up blowing around the station when people just dropped or tossed them aside.
Deciding to check my email, I picked up my phone and tapped in the password. And right there on the home screen was the app that I’d been trying not to think about all night. The one that might help me make my thesis more personal, maybe even groundbreaking. Or at least, if I didn’t find Bigfoots, as I figured I would not, I hoped to connect with someone who could teach me more about living outside the ordinary human realm.
That would be key. In choosing to study Bigfoots, I had picked those who could not speak for themselves. Not even in relics, like bones or other tangible objects. I wondered now how I’d been so daring.
I touched the icon for Mail-Order Matings and gaped at the notification waiting for me. You have a match! So soon? On some level, I had been positive nothing would come of my application. I knew I wasn’t ugly or anything, but when I reviewed my answers, I felt as if I was looking at the most boring person in the world.
Someone who worked two jobs while going to school and didn’t have a moment for socializing. Wouldn’t whoever saw my profile wonder what I would have left to bring to a relationship. True, I wasn’t looking for one, but they didn’t know that—yet. I’d have to be sure to tell them as soon as possible. Once they agreed to meet with me, that was. I’d deliberately left my preference in a type broad, preferably someone tall and a cryptid. If I couldn’t find a Bigfoot, maybe it would be a…what?
Suddenly I realized how silly I was being in standing here behind the counter in a convenience store and wondering what kind of extraordinary person might be matched to me. When the answer lay only a couple of clicks away.
“I’ll have ten on pump 2.”
I hadn’t even heard the man come in. “All right.” Nearly everyone used cards at the pumps, but our outdated technology didn’t accommodate putting actual cash in there. Until we updated, people who wanted to pay cash had to come in and give it to me. But it didn’t take long for me to handle the order and pick up my phone again. I inhaled a deep breath and whispered a wish to the universe that the answer to my quandary lay in this app. It sure had been for Anais. Not that I wanted a mate or expected a happy ever after or anything silly like that. No…
All right. Enough.
A swipe of the screen and my match was revealed. Or not just one, but two guys who were “unique shifters.” My heart beat so hard I was afraid it was going to come out of my chest. My throat was tight, and my fingers trembled enough, it was hard to type in a reply to their message.
