“Well!” Splaying her fingers, she grinned in barely held back excitement. “Okay. Maybe this detective is looking for information on Old Stone because of the new bank hacking!”
I spluttered. “W—what?” Was the room suddenly very warm? “Who hacked another bank? How do you know this?”
Laralie crinkled her nose. “I don't know who. No one does. And they didn't even manage it, it was just an attempt that triggered the security system or something. It's been all over the news, how have you not heard about it?”
Truthfully, I'd been so busy with my own sordid, personal game with S, I hadn't turned my TV or radio on in ages.
I cupped the side of my skull. It was swelling, ready to split. A new hacking? A detective who wanted to meet me? This was all too much. Standing, I dusted myself off. “It's getting late, I'm going to head out.”
“Aw, Alexis!” Pouting, Laralie crossed her arms. “Don't keep me in the dark. You're becoming very intriguing lately, you know?”
The smile that crossed my face was thin as ice. “I guess so.”
I didn't want to be interesting.
****
My mailbox was empty.
Gawking, I continued to squint into the locker, like I'd manifest a package into existence if I stared long enough.
Why was there nothing? A single day hadn't gone by where I didn't receive a gift from S. Not since I'd started accepting the packages again, anyway.
The gaping slot taunted me.
Something is wrong. Snow flooded my veins, pricking my anxiety. Shutting the mailbox, I walked on numb legs back to my car. Surely this was just a weird mistake. Perhaps he was busy.
Yes, I admonished myself, climbing into my car. Don't be greedy. It isn't like I should just expect these gifts all the time!
I kept a structured life. His treats had become part of my routine.
Shaking myself, I tapped my cheeks. I had to get a grip. I was being silly.
Laughing at my overreaction, I left the post office. Tomorrow, things would surely go back to normal.
Except...
They didn't.
Day after day, as I ripped open my locker with more desperation, I found nothing inside. Sometimes bills, or junk, but no more packages.
S had vanished from my life.
It made no sense, and it had happened so suddenly. I felt like an addict, craving relief but never finding it. His game had wormed under my skin. I didn't know how to turn off my desire, or my depression.
What had I done to upset him?
That was the only conclusion. I had done something. Why else would he punish me?
Punish. I tasted the word, scowling. Was that really it? In what way could I have wronged this man I still hadn't met?
My week was bleak. One day faded into the next, and when Saturday came, I was swaying into gloom. It was pathetic, I knew that. But I swear, it felt exactly like...
Like a breakup.
S had broken up with me. I guess I became boring. The thought was wretched.
I went back and forth all day, resisting the urge to go to the post office. The clock ticked like it was stuffed with honey. Each hour dragged until I could think of nothing else.
I was weak.
And I didn't care.
The ride to the post office was quick. I'd delayed until the building was near closing time. Rushing, I pulled into the lot so hard my tires kicked up dirt.
I have to hurry. What if, what if today...
The slight hope that this time, a gift would be waiting for me, was enough to make me run. Shoving inside, I stared straight at my locker.
Facing away from me was a man.
It was that lanky, young guy who worked here, his jacket partially hiding his uniform. He'd opened my locker on top, where the workers could drop the mail inside.
In his hand... was a letter.
“It's you,” I gasped, startling him.
Twisting around, that guy—Kerie—stared at me in disbelief. The letter in his hand crinkled from his tension. “Excuse me?”
Step by step, I approached him. Rage and confusion tormented my insides. Suddenly, everything was clicking together. “Of course. It's the only way you could put the packages in my locker without addressing them. You're...” I swallowed. “S?”
His brow knotted, but he didn't move. “No. You've got the wrong idea.”
I stopped, my heels digging in. We were mere feet away. “Don't lie to me.” After everything, my mystery admirer would dare try and— “I'm serious!” Lifting his arms like I had a gun on him, he offered the letter. “The guy you're talking about? He's been paying me to stick this stuff in your mail. I don't know who he is, but I'm sorry for being so sly. Just please, don't tell my boss.”
My confidence crumbled. Taking the envelope, I looked from it, to Kerie. No. There was definitely no way this young, nervous man was my S.
“You met him?” All at once, my ribs became too small. “What's he like?”