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Startled, Maybelle quickly looked away,what the hell was he looking at?She pulled her phone from her pocket using the camera to make sure she didn’t have anything on her face. All seemed well, she peered back over her shoulder, maybe he was looking at someone behind her. Nobody seemed to be acknowledging him if he was, so she dared another peek to see if the stranger was still staring,holy mother of freaking pearl, he was.
His eyes were wide, stunned, maybe? Maybelle couldn’t look away, she was frozen, staring right back at him. Then as if she wasn’t already feeling like this was the start of her own personal horror film, his eyes sharpened, taking on a type of deviance with a toothy grin.Holy shit. She was going to die, or worse, be kidnapped and Chelsea would never get her spices to make the feast she had been planning for over a month.
“This register is available, ma’am.” A store employee said interrupting Maybelle’s panicked race of thoughts, drawing her attention away from the man’s vicious gaze.
Maybelle nearly tripped forward through the self-checkout, quickly scanning, and bagging her items. It would be alright; he probably just finally saw the Little Debbies he had been looking for. There, that had to be it, based on the gunk decorating his baggy grey sweats.Fuhhhh, even through the calming pep talk going on in her head Maybelle could still feel his eyes burning into the back of her skull.
She needed to be sure, prove that she was letting one interaction get to her head and freak her out for no reason. So, while the receipt printed, Maybelle shot a quick glance back over her shoulder to see he was closer, much closer and he was still approaching.
Maybelle felt like her joints were stiff but the adrenaline pouring through her blood oiled them right up and made her move, throwing her recently bought bags of items onto her arm and speed walking out the store to where she parked.
Of course, she parked out in butt-freak nowhere and not closer to the front but thank the good lord her fast walking and even running was a lot more coordinated and smooth these days. Now, she could move quickly without the anxiety that she’d easily stumble over her own feet so Maybelle hauled ass, the best she could without drawing too much unnecessary attention to herself.
She still had the slight self-sabotaging thought that this whole thing was happening in her brain damaged head and if she got other people involved, she would be sorely humiliated when she found out the guy really had just finally found the Little Debbies.
Eff, with that type of thinking, she would for sure be the first to die in a horror movie.
Maybelle didn’t chance a look back as she reached for the handle of the car door, it was light outside, thank goodness, and the parking lot was bustling with people but still… the look in this guy’s eyes made her shiver with apprehension. She needed to get the hell out of there. She needed to get back home to Chelsea, to Trey.
She tried for the handle but immediately realized she forgot to unlock the damn car. Maybelle scrambled for the keys in her back pocket and that’s when she glimpsed him, only feet away now.
Maybelle gasped dropping the keys,damn her butter fingers!Another reason she would be the first dead idiot in a horror film. Worse, she would be the first death in a Michael Myers or zombie movie because she couldn’t even keep a hold of her stinking keys!
Maybelle peered back up at him, then back at the keys that had landed so much closer to him than her. If there was a God, he obviously hated Maybelle because there was no reasonable way for those keys to have landed at this stranger’s feet like a damned gift and not hers!
Feeling like an absolute dumbass as she continued to gawk at the divine betrayal lying before her pursuer, Maybelle studied the man in front of her. He looked— like he hadn’t showered indays, his clothes soiled but the sly smile on his lips is what had the bile of her tummy burning the back of her throat. He bent down, maintaining eerie eye contact with her as hepicked the keys up and jangled them carelessly from one hand to the next. Maybelle extended out a hand to accept them, “Thank you.” She muttered and his sharpened sneer widened.
Now that he was closer that chemical heavy smell, she caught a whiff of before radiated from him, a cologne, maybe, strong enough to singe her nose hairs and kill a few brain cells.
“Mason?” The stranger finally asked, and Maybelle stiffened.Shit, he knew her. What would the survivor of a horror film do in this scenario? Probably run, call the cops? Not tell the scary stranger her name, of course.
“That’s me.” She confirmed, hating herself with a burning passion. She deserved to die the lamest death in the lamest most predictable thriller ever made.
His choppy chuckle is what brought her out of her obsessive scary movie rumination as he scratched the thick layer of haphazard scruff along his jaw. Maybelle stole that moment to read the big white letters across the chest of his shirt,Harbor High. Isn’t that where she and Trey went to high school?
Maybelle focused back on the man’s face, he was taking full inventory of her body, and his languid perusal made her bones and muscles feel completely iced over.
“Can I help you?” Maybelle bit, very much done with the theatrics.
The man scoffed, “Don’t you recognize me?”
Maybelle didn’t care to explain her memory predicament to this Jeffery Dahmer seeming fellow, so she only stated, “No.” Maybelle stretched her hand out farther with more urgency, “Please give me my keys, I’m expected home.”
He didn’t even flinch, that grin just kept growing, like an infection. Maybelle felt a phantom slithering sensation of slime and snakeskin across her flesh making her shudder.
The stranger tutted as he took a couple steps forward, Maybelle stood her ground. She may be the first dumb death,but she’d be a brave one that at least went down with a scrap of dignity left.
He made a show of looking over her shoulder, “I’m surprised your guard dog isn’t here. I was really hoping to run into Turner, I really need to return a favor to him.” He then rubbed the left side of his cheek like he was reminiscing over something.
Enough was enough, “Look, I don’t know who you are, but I’m needed home. Give me my keys, now.” She demanded firmly, hoping he’s like a bear. If she were to act bigger, meaner, it would hopefully send him scurrying— or are you supposed to play dead?Fuck!Fuck her, fuck him, and fuck the low budget horror film that was her unraveling reality. And fuck her fucking brain for still dragging out the horror film narrative and not thinking of something that would actually help!
Again, he scoffed, and it grated on her few remaining nerves, “So it is true, you lost all your memories. My mom had said as much but I didn’t believe her. I’ll try not to take offense to you not remembering me. It is a surprise though; we were such good friends.” He pilfered another step toward her, holding out his free hand, keeping the coveted keys in the other, “Clayton Thomas, we went to high school together.”
Maybelle didn’t accept his flourished introduction, instead, she channeled her inner Juliette as she glowered at his outstretched hand annoyed and hopefully, obviously, disgusted. His arrogance didn’t waver.
Clayton pulled his hand back; with him even closer Maybelle could see something caught up in his facial hair.Oh sick, were those chip crumbs in there?Nastay.
“I’m glad we finally ran into each other. I had been hoping to ask you out, maybe we could catch up? I could remind you all about the good ole days.” Clayton’s smile brightened and Maybelle snorted.
