LONG BLURB:

[warning: there is a bit of violence.]

I huddle in the corner of the gas station. The dark has taken over.

I hear the laughter of the attacker. The sound following is a thundering gunshot.

“Who’s next?” The robber shouts, nearing the aisle to the left of me.

I hide closer to the rack of chips, closing my eyes as I hear the man round to my aisle. With my breath held, I open my eyes and meet taunting silver irises.

“What’s this?” He murmurs, crouching in front of me, pistol in hand, “aren’t you a pretty little lady?”

I release my held breath. It only grows heavier.

The man looks about my age, maybe a year or two older, but he is no average college student. His dark hair descends upon his forehead, a tattoo running along the entirety of the side of his face.

It takes less than thirty seconds to recognize him.

“Caleb?”

He smirks as he tips my chin up.

“Ah. Didn’t think you’d recognize me, Kam,” he responds, tucking his gun in his holster.

Caleb was never an ugly duckling, and he still isn’t. He towers at six foot tall, with a muscular build disguised behind all-black attire. His face was always recognizable in high school, but now, he’s more attacker than student.

“Lis— listen, Caleb, I know- I know we weren’t great friends in high school, but we’re grown now, right?”

He clicks his tongue, his fingers remaining underneath my chin.

“Do you remember our little deal?” He asks, dropping his fingers as my mind slips into thought.

A lightbulb goes off in my head before I drop my eyes to the old tiling of the gas station.

“Oh my gosh… you mean the deal from kindergarten?” I hesitate, still staring at the floor, “The deal where you said after high school… we’d get married? You still remember that?”

He laughs, and it’s a delicate sound. It sends little shivers through my spine, and I almost cry at the thought. He’s dangerous now. He’s not “Cab” anymore. He’s Caleb Sullivan.

“Of course I remember, Kamila,” he whispers, standing back up, “shouldn’t we keep that deal?”

“What?” He starts walking away, grabbing a couple things off the shelves.

Surely someone called the police, right? Caleb distracted me. He knows that I would’ve called them otherwise. Would I, though?

I stand back up.

The bell rings as Caleb opens the door to exit.

He winks at me, before pivoting and dashing towards his truck.

The cashier is laying in a pool of dark red. How could I marry a man like that? I crouch back down to gather my thoughts and items, and I eventually bring my phone out.

Just when the police get here.