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Cameron,
Is there a reason you’re ignoring me? I’m getting worried that I haven’t heard from you. I thought you’d at least thank me for the flowers or acknowledge one of my emails.
You’re making me nervous and I don’t think rationally when I’m nervous…
Anyway, call me when you can. Can’t wait to speak to you :)
Darcy xx
She's contradicting herself she's all over the place, in the same way that one email throws abuse at me, and the next is five pages of apologies and I love you’s. I laugh, because this is getting out of hand. The only thing I’m not sure about is what to do. Maybe I should try and talk to her? But if I say the wrong thing and make things worse, I’ll be even more fucked.
I jump at the sound of the doorbell ringing again. That fucking thing is going to give me nightmares tonight. I don't answer this time. Or when it rings again fifteen minutes later, or twenty minutes after that. I’m so on edge that every tiny noise has me jumping out of my skin.
Maybe I should tell Dad.
He might talk to her for me, or at the very least, arrange a restraining order. No. I haven't turned to my father for help in over four years and I’m not going to start now.
I stare at my phone as it flashes on the coffee table. Of course it’s her. The ringing stops, and an alert pops up. Sixteen missed calls. You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. I know the longer I go without answering, the angrier she’ll get, but I can’t answer. If I speak to her right now, I’ll say something to make this a million times worse. I need advice.
What better person to give it to me than the man who’s been stalked three times?
I leave my phone on the arm of the couch and stomp out the door, and he to Lewis’ place down the hall. I bang on his door continuously until he opens it. He frowns at me.
“What the hell is up with you?” he asks.
“Don't ask,” I mutter. “Do not fucking ask.”
He waves me in, so I stomp over his couch and sit down. I sigh and lean back, resting against the cushions. Lewis wheels over. He eyes me cautiously, like I’ve lost my mind. Which is kind of ironic, considering the morning I’ve had.
“Okay,” he shrugs. “I won’t ask then.”
“She's mental,” I mutter, shaking my head. “A nut case. She's completely crazy and I’ve got no idea what to do.”
“Hold-up, who is?” he asks, confused.
“It’s a long story,” I sigh.
“So, explain it?” he says. “You didn’t come over here just for my company.”
“It’s Darcy,” I grumble. “She found out that I was messing with her and she lost control.”
“She’s angry?” he guesses, a knowing smile on his face.
I laugh bitterly. “No. God, I wish, because angry I can handle. She’s completely obsessed with me. I've been fielding off emails and calls from her all day. And man, she even kissed me,” I mutter.
He starts howling. “She kissed you?” he hoots. I nod grimly. “Well? How was it?”
“Well, the kiss was pretty good, but the rest of it…” I shake my head. “She's completely unstable—” I pause when someone knocks on the door. “fuck,” I hiss. “How would she even know I’m here? Is she watching me or something?”
“Okay, now you’re just being paranoid,” Lewis chuckles.
He’s still laughing as he wheels himself over to the door. I hide around the corner, straining to listen to the conversation. I’m ninety percent sure that he’s right; I’m just being paranoid, but I’m still on edge.
He comes back in—alone, thank God—with a small box on his lap. I narrow my eyes and stare at it suspiciously. He chuckles when he sees the anxious look on my face.
“I went out with this chick last year? Narelle?” he says.
I nod, remembering the short blonde with way too much perkiness.
“Well she went on and on about how I never got her anything,” Lewis continues. “So she came over one day, I greeted her at the door in my chair with a box like this in my lap. Her eyes widened, she followed me into the living room. I told her she had to kneel down in front of me, so I could hold it or it might jump out.”
“No,” I say with a laugh. “Please don’t finish this story.”
“She was so sure that I’d gotten her a kitten or a puppy. She was nearly jumping up and down with excitement. She got down on her knees, lifted the lid and…” His grin widens when I groan. “What? I wasn’t lying. Something did jump out.”
“Fuck, you’re an idiot,” I say, but I’m laughing. “And don’t think I’m gonna open that while it’s sitting on your lap. I’m not as easy as Narelle.”
