If Normal Was a Thing

Panic in the Parking Lot

I looked over at Oakley, wide eyed. This guy had just sent a text to all of his friends, and now they had my number, and quite frankly I didn't know what to do about that. It was something I never imagined being an outcome of kissing a bunch of strangers. I turned down the ringer on my phone to Silent, and the lady called out Oakley's name.  We walked up to grab our food and I put it in the backpack while Oakley paid for it.

I looked up at Oakley's intake of breath, questioning.

"He paid for our food," She said, giving me a wide eyed gaze and I knew my cheeks had gone red.

"Come on," I murmured, "we need to go say thank you,... and then beat him up for texting people on my cellphone when he has one of his own he could have used just the same."

Oakley gave a snort, and I handed her the backpack as we went outside. The guy with the motorcycle that we had raced was sitting outside, his helmet came off while we walked out the doors, and I nearly turned around to run inside and hide.

It was him. It was the intense one from the smoothie bar with the dark hair and.. I made my thoughts turn away from his kiss and pressed a hand to my stomach, "Oaks, I don't feel too good," I said.

The guy with the motorcycle was talking to fire eyes, and when I spoke they both turned my direction. Which didn't help out the series of flips that my stomach was currently undergoing. The hot sticky summer air was just making it all worse.

Oakley blocked off the guys by standing right in front of me, she pressed her hands against my shoulders and while she didn't do it very hard, I went down to my butt pretty easily.

These guys were following me, I just know it. They're trying to get me, she probably hired them. They're going to finish what she started...

The thoughts apparently spilled out of my mouth in the form of words, and everyone heard it. Somewhere past the haze and unrelenting fear that had taken it's claws and sunk them deep into my mind, I could hear Oakley, and a few other's speaking. Oakley was calling for me... saying something .. but I knew it wasn't right.

This isn't real. Oakley isn't real. None of it-

A sharp pain against my cheek brought clarity, the fog receded and I could see Oakley, with her worried blue eyes and two attractive males looking extremely upset and worried behind her.

"Sang, sweetie. She'll never hurt you again, I promise," Oakley said, watching me with sincerity laced eyes.

I swallowed and nodded, my throat was dry and I felt completely embarrassed at having a panic attack in front of an audience. Not to mention what I had been thinking. There was no way to tell for sure how much had come out, but I knew enough had to make me want to crawl in a hole and never come out again.

An overwhelming sensation of guilt and shame settled over my skin like a scratchy blanket.

I risked a glance at the guys, nothing but worry was in their eyes and I wondered again, who they were.

"I think we should load up your bikes into Victor's car and give you girls a ride home," the dark haired one said.

Oakley shook her head and helped me to my feet, "She's fine to drive, she's been riding since we met, and trust me, she's okay now."

Oakley didn't elaborate, and I was stuck staring at the fire eyed boy, who's name must be Victor.

"You're..." I struggled to match the name with the face, and for a minute there I faltered. The biker had his eyes on me, raising an eyebrow, but I was staring at Victor, "You're.. Victor... Morgan.." I said, and once the name was out of my mouth it felt right.

The pieces clicked into place, "of course," I continued, pressing my hand to my stomach, which was still a little queasy, "That's why you sort of looked familiar yesterday," I mumbled, the reminder making my cheeks glow pink as I took a step behind Oakley.

Victor glanced at his friend before looking over Oakley's shoulder at me, "Yeah, and this is North Taylor... you pay attention to gossip columns?" he asked, looking a little accusing.

I shook my head, but Oakley answered for me, "She's a bit of a weirdo. Listens to everything between Classic Rock and Classical. She especially loves the piano, and before we moved she had started a few violin lessons."

I poked Oakley from behind, "We've got to go," I said.

I didn't particularly care what this Victor Morgan thought of me, and I didn't care for the tone he'd spoken in just now. Me kissing him and him paying for my food without me asking gave him no pass.

Oakley turned around and looked at me, her eyes searching my face before she looked at the boys, "Right, well, see you later..." we started towards our bikes and before she put on her helmet she casually looked over at them, "you should text her," she said with an impish grin.

I knew what it was. She was trying to play matchmaker. I wanted to roll my eyes and snap something at her, but I knew she wasn't operating with the intent to hurt me so shouldn't either.

I looked over at the guys with a frown. "You don't really have to do that," I said, making Oakley giggle as she turned her bike on. "really," I tried again, my voice being drowned by Oakley's bike, "don't text me."

I could have sworn the dark haired one said not likely, but I don't think I'll ever know, because my bike was already being turned on, and we didn't stick around long enough to ask.

♥ ☾ ♥

Back at home we took out the take out and sat down, watching movies and doing pretty much nothing. After the first movie, Oakley got up and put the garbage in the trash, and the few left overs into the fridge. I started watching the newest episode of The Bachelorette while Oakley took a shower. Half way through the episode, I pulled out my phone to check the time, and was met with about twenty text messages.

I was momentarily confused, but then it clicked. I had turned off the ringer, and Victor Morgan had texted himself, and his nine friends on MY cellular device.

The flicker of anger returned.

The first nine texts were a picture of each guy, and their corresponding names. It was weird, almost like they'd discussed it. After that, there were a few from Victor, and a few from the black haired guy I now knew was named North.

North: What happened in the parking lot today?
North: Is everything okay?

Victor: Who hurt you so much?

There were also a few from Silas, the one from the lazy pool.

Silas: How are you?

Silas: Are you mad at Victor? He only stoke your pjone because we all asked hin toi
Silas: *stole, phone, him, to
Silas: sorry in rush, fat fingers... small letters

Those messages were both in the last ten minutes, and as I went to go start replying to them, unsure what to say, my phone's screen suddenly lit up and showed that I was getting a phone call from a number. I was half sure it was one of the guys, but I wasn't sure because I hadn't been able to save their contacts yet... and I wasn't sure If I wanted to yet.

I sucked in a deep breath and pressed answer, I was quiet for a few seconds before muttering a hello, with my heart going out of control at the uncertainty of which one I was talking to - if any.