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The sound of the bell chime interrupts my thoughts. Zoey enters, wearing her usual long red coat and beret, a bright smile on her face. I force one of my own, but it falters as I glimpse the strappy dress underneath her coat and the heels she’s wearing.
“Hey, Mia,” she says, coming up to the counter. “Where’s the big lout? We have a date tonight.”
So, she’s all dressed up for her date with Nick, I think to myself with a pang of envy, wishing it was Blake and me. “You look great,” I comment, feigning interest in her fashion choices.
She laughs and twirls, showing off her dress. “You like it? It’s designer vintage. My mom let me borrow it for the party we’re going to tonight.”
I nod slowly, feeling out of my depth. Nick returns from the break room, carrying a stack of cardboard boxes. Zoey’s focus shifts towards him, bringing me a sense of relief.
“Hey, Nicky! Ready to rock?”
Nick grins crookedly as he sets down the boxes in front of the nearby shelves. “You bet! I was just finishing up here.” He leans across the counter and kisses her on the cheek, making her blush visibly even through the layers of party makeup. “Give me a minute, and then we can get going.” He quickly disappears into the break room.
Zoey turns back to me, her eyes glinting with a hint of concern. “Are you gonna be okay here by yourself?”
I chuckle nervously; this isn’t the first time I’ve volunteered to close the store for my coworkers. Usually, it’s Nick and Zoey. But occasionally, Jen has had to leave early for family emergencies. “Sure. I can handle it.”
“So,” she begins, leaning both elbows on the counter, “how’s the cute guy, Blake? Haven’t seen him around in a while. You two been hot and heavy yet?”
My face flushes in embarrassment, thankful that he can’t see my reaction. “Uh, no. Not yet, anyway …”
She giggles and pats my arm. “Don’t worry. You still have plenty of time to make your move!”
At the mention of Blake, Nick emerges from the break room. “Speaking of, it’d be fun to go on a double date with you guys sometimes. What do you think, Zo?”
She looks at him with surprise, almost like she didn’t expect his suggestion. “Yeah, that sounds like a great idea,” she replies, looking at me as if she’s expecting my input.
I don’t have the heart to tell them that the two of us haven’t been speaking lately—because that would invite questions I’m not willing to elaborate upon. “Sure, why not?” I say, shrugging casually, as if everything is perfectly normal.
Zoey grins, her face lighting up. “Call me whenever so we can set up a time. Anyway, we should get going. I still have to pick up Marco.”
Nick puts on the coat that had been slung over his arm and wrinkles his nose like he smells something sour. “That guy? Really?” he says, going over to Zoey.
“Shush. I told him I’d do him a solid and give him a ride to the party.” She links arms with Nick. “See you later, Mia.”
“Yeah, see ya!” he says as they head to the door. “Thanks for closing up for me!”
“It’s not a problem. You two have a great time!”
Watching them leave, I feel a strange mix of emotions. I long for things to go back to the way they were before, when I first moved to Fallbank. Back when there was no stalker, and I could sleep without being haunted by nightmares.
Sighing, I head back to the register and start tidying until closing time. The final act of Freddy’s Dead: The Final Nightmare plays on the TV in the background. I shake my head; it’s not a particularly good film. But I hate to admit that I find Maggie a relatable character in some twisted way.
For the next few hours, I work on autopilot, completing mundane tasks as the evening passes in a blur. I make sure the shelves are stocked and everything is displayed neatly, finding a temporary escape in the catchy tunes playing from the television courtesy of Grease. Finally, when closing time comes around, I feel both relieved and exhausted.
As the credits toPretty in Pinkfinish, I lock up. Returning to the counter, I grab a stack of video game cases and head to the shelves near the back of the store. While sorting through the cases, I am caught off guard by a particular title: Street Fighter II. Memories of playing it with Grace one night come flooding back, and a faint, sad smile crosses my face.
It was the same night he showed up.
As I place the game on the shelf, a strange noise startles me. My head snaps up, and I look around, though I’m unable to find the source. I swallow hard, trying to reason with myself that it’s probably just my imagination. But as I go to put the last case on the shelf, the noise sounds again, closer this time. Terror chills me to the bone, my breath a ragged gasp as I listen for any hint of danger.
Suddenly, the power cuts—and I’m plunged into total darkness. Fear grips me as I hear something shuffling in the shadows, my heart thudding in my chest. Has he come to kill me? I whirl around at the sound of footsteps behind me, but no one’s there. In a panic, I fumble for my taser and search for an escape route. I should be able to get out, knowing this place like the back of my hand.
I poke my head out of the cubby, every muscle in my body tense as I scan the store for any sign of movement. I find nothing strange, but something still feelsoff. Taking one last glance around, I swallow my trepidation and run to the door—before realizing that I left the keys by the register.
“You’re closing late tonight,” a voice says.
The unnatural inflection sends a prickle down my spine. “Who’s there?” I call out, failing to keep my voice from trembling. No response. I scour the area with squinted eyes, seeing nothing overtly amiss—until I see him. A figure standing in the shadows across the store, watching me. I take a step back as my heart races. “What are you doing here?!”
