Car crash. Car crash. Heart attack. Cancer. Heart attack. Suicide.
Fiona sighed and looked away. She wasn’t sure why she still came to the mall. Sure, it was better than high school had been, especially just before prom, but still. A woman who could see how people were going to die should avoid going to populous places. It just becomes depressing. Dropping onto a bench, she stared at the floor and tried to decide which to do first: food or books. Then she would just leave. It wasn’t worth seeing the words floating there in the air over every person she saw.
“Hey, mind if I sit here?”
She glanced up and immediately regretted it. Hit and Run. And it was so bright. It was going to be soon.
She gave him a warm smile and he dropped onto the bench next to her. After a few moments of silence, he looked away from his phone.
“Sorry to bother you again, but um…are you from around here?”
“Lived here my whole life, why?”
He showed her his phone and smiled sheepishly.
“The mall app isn’t loading the map. Think you can show me where the food court is? I just moved into the city yesterday and well…”
Fiona glanced at the words again and then took the plunge.
“Sure, I can show you.”
Don’t get attached, Fiona, whatever you do, don’t get attached.
When she realized she was laughing at his jokes already, Fiona knew she was doomed. As bright as the text above his head was, it was going to be soon. Suddenly he blushed and gave her a little smile.
“Sorry, you must think my manners have gone on vacation. I’m Dylan.”
“No, no, it’s fine, I didn’t say anything either. I’m Fiona.”
And you’re probably going to get hit by a car and die before the day is over and I’m pretty much head over heels. Yup.
“Like the princess in Shrek?”
She rolled her eyes and laughed.
“With the kung fu and without the turning into an ogre.”
“You get that a lot, don’t you?”
“More than you would think is possible.”
He looked so genuinely apologetic. Fiona smiled at him.
“It’s alright, though, really.” She turned a corner and gestured grandly. “The food court, as requested.”
“I don’t suppose I could convince you to let me get you lunch? As a thank you, of course.”
In for the fleece, in for the sheep…
“Sure, why not?”