The Memory Machine 2

Chapter 8 - Rushed and Ruined

"You long for him, do you not? Do not worry, my dear puzzle. You will not feel these feelings much longer. Can you not feel it already beginning to disappear?"

Jacob stood outside the apartment door, his fist hovering an inch away from it, as it had been for the past 5 minutes. He didn't dare to knock. There was still a part of him that feared the worst. His mother had always taught him to be wary of strangers. He had always obeyed those warnings, and when Ingrid had spoken to him he had acted with the same caution as he would with anyone else he didn't know. But still he had found himself asking for her number. There was something innocent about her that made him want to see her again.

He remembered the joy he had felt when he had first found the courage to call her and heard her voice. They had talked a lot over the past week, and now she had invited him round her apartment. She seemed nice enough, but Jacob had seen his fair share of stories about "groomers". He took a deep breathe, telling himself that if she tried anything he would leave straight away.

"I'm sure it'll be fine. She's only a year older than me," he reassured himself.

His fist rapped on the door, and before he could even think about changing his mind the door opened.

"Jacob, you came!" Ingrid exclaimed, moving aside so that he could enter.

She wore a sky blue knee-length dress with a stylish belt around her middle. With a full face of makeup and a flowery pin in her hair, she looked like an actress. Jacob's cheeks burned hot as he looked down at his own casual t-shirt and jeans and unmatched socks. He had at least made the effort to brush his hair a little, but that didn't make any difference now. Hesitantly, Jacob entered, casting an awkward smile at Ingrid. She returned it with twice as much enthusiasm. Jacob swallowed, trying to act natural.

"It's a... nice place," was all he could think to say.

Ingrid giggled and closed the door behind him.

"I'm glad you think so. Do you want a drink?"

Jacob shook his head.

"No thanks."

"Are you sure? I can get you one. Why don't you sit down?"

Jacob tried his best to refuse, but Ingrid would have none of it. She hurried away to the kitchen, leaving Jacob sat alone on the sofa. His fists were clenched so tight that his knuckles went white. He couldn't shake the feeling that Ingrid was being too nice. It was just like the stories on the news: Talking to you on the phone, building your trust, asking to meet up. Clattering sounds came from the kitchen, and Jacob flinched. He may have been 20, but he still lived with his parents and deep down still felt like a child. He felt sick with fear as he sat in Ingrid's apartment. He wasn't at home now, and he didn't have his mother to protect him. He was alone in this situation.

Ingrid re-entered the room with two glasses of lemonade in her hands. She set them down on the coffee table and sat in a chair opposite to Jacob. She smiled at him, and he tried his best to smile back. But he just couldn't. Tears brimmed in his eyes and though he wanted to leave, every muscle in his body tensed and he felt like a living statue. Ingrid noticed, and her face fell. There was something in her expression that told him that she was used to this kind of behaviour. She leaned forward in her chair, giving him a sympathetic smile. Jacob finally found his voice again.

"You're not going to abduct me, are you?" he choked, voicing his fears.

If she was going to, this probably wasn't the best thing to say. And if she wasn't... well, it wasn't any better. But Ingrid did nothing. She just sat there in silence.

"What was I thinking?" she said to herself eventually, looking away. "You should go, Jacob. I don't want to frighten you."

Jacob stood up, glad to have the feeling back in his limbs. Initially he had wanted to leave as soon as he got the opportunity, but now he could see as clear as day that he had nothing to fear. And somehow, this brought his buried feelings to the surface.

From the first day he had seen her, when he had delivered her pizza, he had been intrigued by her. The way she had gone out of her way to fumble with her handbag just to make him laugh. She wasn't like other people. She wasn't fake, and she cared about other people. Even people like him, who she didn't even know. He walked around the coffee table to stand beside her. He instinctively put his hand on her shoulder, seeing how distraught she looked. At his touch she stood up suddenly, looking straight at him.

"You should go," she repeated.

Jacob took her hand, squeezing it tightly.

"I don't want to go yet. I'm sorry I acted like that. I was just worried; my mum always told me to stay away from strangers," he explained.

Ingrid smiled.

For a moment neither of them said anything. Jacob felt his heart pound, and before he knew it he was leaning towards her, his lips no more than an inch from hers. He closed his eyes and leaned in closer. A hand pressed on his chest, blocking him.

"I really think that you should go, Jacob."

Jacob's eyes flew open, and he stumbled backwards. He ran for the door, not waiting to hear more. He ran down the hall, only stopping to take a breath when he was outside. After that he wasted no time in making his way home. The tears that had been waiting finally fell as he closed his front door behind him, and he fell into the comforting embrace of his mother.