Weird and Weirder

Ch10. Daph's POV - Here, There and Everywhere

Chapter 10 – Daph's POV

Here, There and Everywhere

I am wearing what I like to call my naughty peasant outfit, which is essentially just a sun dress without underwear. And a big ass hat.

I'm sitting in my car and I'm debating whether I should do this or not.

I've lost my mind.

A sane person would not be doing this. A sane person would not be contemplating going in a flea market and cornering a hot guy. A sane person would move the hell on, or go up to that guy like a normal person and try to have a normal conversation and maybe ask for his number, or better yet, his stupid name.

I don't want to do any of these normal things. I don't want him to ask me my name or why I'm doing this. I don't know why.

I don't want this to be something normal.

But I can't tell this guy that I don't want anything real with him because anything real is scary when it comes to relationships. Anything real can be broken. Anything real is fragile. Anything you get invested in, really invested in hurts when it crumbles.

I'm not madly in love with Fred so he's never dangerous to me. I can go up to him and kiss him anytime.

Flea Market Guy is dangerous. I know literally nothing about him except the way he kisses. That's all I know and I'm already kind of obsessed.

If I knew him, really knew him... maybe I'd absolutely hate him, and the butterflies in my stomach would die an awful death.

But maybe he's be even more perfect... and then I'd be signing up for a big heartbreak.

So, this plan is safer, stupid, but safer.

I should star my car again and drive away. I should leave this place and forget about this dude.

I should... Ugh, I have no idea.

I grab my phone and dial the first person I think about.

The second Vanessa answers, I say a big, "Hey guuuuuurl,"

"Oh my god, is Daphnee Harrison, the Daphnee Harrison calling me right now?" Van says, like I've finally deigned to acknowledge her existence, like if Paul singled me out in a crowd.

I roll my eyes at her antic. "Come on."

"We've literally not talked in weeks," she presses.

I feel a little bit bad. "I was away," I answer sheepishly. Yeah, scratch that, I feel a lot bad.

"Uh huh, yeah, yeah, yeah, sure, sure, sure," she replies, not impress.

I feel bad about Vanessa often. I get that changing school meant she had better opportunities for her future, and it's great for her, but it's difficult to keep her in the loop if she's not here. I don't want to not call her for weeks, but sometimes life and all my silly preoccupations get in the way.

"Once a drama queen, always a drama queen," I tease her.

She ignores my quip and asks, "How are you?"

I ignore the question and say, "Yes or no."

"Huh?"

"Pick one. Yes or no."