18 Days

5. Day Five;; Something More

I think I have a stalker. This morning, when I got off the subway to go to work, I felt like someone was watching me, but when I turned around, there had been no one there.

Again, when I was on my lunch break, I felt like someone was watching me. I turned around, but all I saw was an elderly lady reading a book. I sighed. I was most definitely losing my mind.

And when I got home later that day, my front door was unlocked. Immediately suspicious, I carefully walked into my place, even though in the back of my mind I knew I should call the police. I knew for a fact that I locked the door this morning. Living in New York, I had grown used to the precautions I had to take.

But inside, nothing looked out of place, and my electronics were all where I left them. Huh. Perhaps Marc had stopped by…?

I phoned him. “Hey Marc,” I said casually.

He had picked up on the first ring – what a good little boy. “Hey Chels. What’s up?”

“Oh, I was just wondering if you had come by my place today.”

“No, why?”

“Oh, because someone broke into my place.”

Perhaps my tone was too calm for what I had said, because Marc inhaled sharply. “Are you okay?” he asked quickly.

My phone was cradled between my shoulder and my ear as I peeled an orange. “Well,” I said slowly, pausing to think about my answer. Was I okay? “Actually, I stubbed my toe this morning, but I didn’t have any band-aids so I had to put my flats on with a bleeding toe.”

He didn’t laugh. In fact, when he spoke, there was absolutely no trace of humor in his voice. “Stay where you are, Chelsea. I’ll be there in a minute.”

I frowned when he hung up without so much as a goodbye. I did my best to do as I was told, but I had been standing all day and my legs were getting tired. But Marc was true to his word and was at my place in less than ten minutes. This, however, led me to believe that he had sped all the way here.

He barged in through my front door without so much as a warning, which made me jump. He was over to me in a second, and he scooped me up in his arms in a hug. I hadn’t been expecting him to lift me off my feet, so I went rigid in his grasp.

I patted the side of his face. “I swear I’m okay, Marc. I wasn’t here when it happened.”

When he set me down, he just stared at me. I furrowed my eyebrows together, my good-natured smile leaving my face instantly. “Are you okay?” I asked softly.

He looked so concerned, his eyes softening at the corners. A smile crossed his face, and as confused as I was, I didn’t understand why he was so concerned. “I’m fine,” I continued, shifting on my feet. I looked back up at him, offering him a smile. “So don’t look so concerned.”

He sighed warily and took a step back. “Sorry,” he mumbled, turning and running a hand through his hair. A tinge of colour painted his cheeks, and my heart swelled.

“Were you concerned about me?” I asked cheekily, pushing my way into his vision.

He moved away from me. “Don’t say it like that,” he mumbled.

I grinned at him. I put myself into his personal space, my hands on my hips. He was avoiding looking at me (like he always does when he blushes), and I tried really hard not to call him on it. I tugged him to me when I pulled myself up on my counter.

“Marcus,” I said softly, trying to catch his eye. “It’s really sweet.”

I bit my lip, tugging on the collar of his coat. “Come on, Marcus. Say something to me.”

He finally looked at me, his blush gone. A toothy grin replaced the frown, and it reminded me of the other day at his place when he was goofing off with the guys. “So how’s your toe?”
---
I had finally convinced Marc to go home. Of course, I wasn’t particularly okay with staying alone tonight, but Marc’s career needed him to be fully rested and in good shape. Staying up late with me wasn’t good for him, especially if he had a game tomorrow night.

I sighed, grabbing my phone. If Marc wasn’t an option, I’d get the next best thing.

“Hello?” a voice asked groggily from the other end. I immediately felt bad, but I felt jumpy, even if my apartment was tiny, and there was no way of someone else being in my place without me knowing it.

“Anna?” I whispered.

She yawned on the other end of the phone. “Chelsea? Are you okay?”

“Can you come over please?”

She groaned, and I imagined her rolling over in her bed. “Chelsea, it’s one o-clock in the morning.”

I inhaled, ready to defend myself. “Someone broke into my place, Anna. I don’t want to be here alone.”

“What?” She yelled, suddenly awake. “Are you okay? When did this happen? I’m going to kill the son of a –” I had already gone through the motions with Marc, but he hadn’t been so angry and he hadn’t sworn that he’d kill the son of a bitch.

“I am so on my way!” Anna told me enthusiastically, her voice gruff and angry.

“Anna,” I interrupted her mumbling, “please don’t bring a meat cleaver.”

She sighed. “I’ll see you in a few, Chelsea.”

When she hung up, I huffed. She hadn’t promised me.

Speaking of Marc, he did appear at my door with force. “Open it, Chelsea. I know you’re awake,” he said through the door. Oh, so now he knocks.

I sighed, pulling my hair into a messy bun at the top of my head. I slowly made my way to the door. I opened it, putting a hand on my hip while resting against my open door with the other arm.

“You’re right,” Marc said, not trying to come in, “I was concerned. For the love of God, Chelsea, you called and you were so nonchalant about it… I thought something happened to you.”

I pursed my lips to the side, just listening to him. But when he didn’t say anything, I assumed it was because he wanted me to say something. Marc and I didn’t have serious conversations that often, so I was a little rusty. I had to say something serious to him before my defense mechanism kicked in and I tried to make a joke. “Have you been thinking about this all night?” I asked.

His hair was haphazard, and when he ran his hands through his hair, I suddenly understood why. I stood on my toes, pulling his head towards mine as I placed a kiss on his cheek. “You should go home, get some sleep. You play tomorrow, and I want you to be able to actually function on the ice.” He didn’t look convinced. “My friend’s coming over, so I’ll be fine. We ordered a male stripper, and I don’t think you want to be here for that.”

The mood lightened after I said that, and Marc smiled brightly. He chuckled, backing away from the door. “I hope he knows what he’s in for.”

I fluttered my eyelashes at him, wiggling my fingers as he walked backwards to his car so he could keep his eyes on me. “If he’s anything like you, Marcus, he doesn’t stand a chance.”
---
Anna arrived later than she had promised, but when she brought me a huge bag of skittles, I quickly forgave her. “So did they take anything?” was the first thing she asked when she settled on the edge of my bed.

I shrugged. “Not that I’m aware of. I mean, my electronics are all still here, and I’m pretty sure nothing else I have here is of value…”

Anna grabbed a handful of skittles. “Probably some stupid street punk who thought he was being funny. Did you call the cops?”

“No. There’s no point.”

Anna sighed, stretching back until she was closer to the head of my bed. “So what did you do right after you found out someone had been in here?”

I began carefully separating all my skittles by colour and flavour out on the bed in front of me. “I called Marc.”

I hadn’t thought that telling Anna about Marc was a big deal, but apparently it was. She made a noise in the back of her throat that sounded a lot like she was mocking me. “So, how is Marc?”

I noticed that tone anywhere. I looked up, and she was propped up against my headboard with a very teasing (and slightly condescending) look on her face. I didn’t understand where she was going with this. “He’s fine,” I told her.

“So you guys done the deed yet?”

I paused, mulling over her words. “And if by ‘deed’ you mean ‘hugged’, then yes, we have done the deed.” She narrowed her eyes at me, so I continued talking. “But if by ‘deed’ you mean ‘sex’, then no, we haven’t done it.”

She sighed, but her posture didn’t slacken. “So you’ve known him for how long and you haven’t slept together?”

I narrowed my eyes at her. Insinuating I was a prude was just as bad as laughing at me. “I don’t have to sleep with every guy I know, Anna.”

Her eyes were penetrating in a very collected way. She didn’t say anything, and I couldn’t let myself look away. “You like him,” she said simply.

“I do not,” I said immediately.

As if I had just proven her point, she smirked.

“What?” I asked, suddenly not liking the way this conversation was going.

“Are you thinking about him right now?”

“Well, only because you keep bringing him up,” I stressed, slapping her hand away when she tried to take my skittles. As long as she was going to berate me, she wasn’t going to get any skittles.

“Describe him to me.”

“Well, he’s got strawberry blonde hair and brown eyes. He’s six foot four and in excellent shape. I just –” I stopped talking when I saw the look of satisfaction cross her face. “What now?” I snapped.

“You sighed.”

“I inhaled.”

“You like him.”

“He’s a great guy!”

“But you like him.”

“I just like being with him.”

“Because you like him.”

“Would you stop already?” I asked, getting fed up and standing up from my bed. I walked towards my bedroom door, intending to go to the kitchen to get a glass of water.

“I like how you didn’t really deny liking him.”