Love At Last Sight: Episode 1 - 11 : TOPSTER STORIES

Love At Last Sight – Episode 3

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By: Jordan Lynden✔

 

 

 

 

#Episode_3

 

 

“Are you sure you want to do this?”

 

“I’m sure.”

 

My dad’s expression revealed to me that he was feeling hesitant about my decision. “Four months really isn’t a long time…”

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“Dad. I’m not going to go a… special school when I can still see,” I said defiantly, unable to say the word blind out loud. “I’d rather live my last few months as normal as possible. I don’t want to leave my friends, anyway.”

 

His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, wringing his hands in a hand-washing motion. “We have to talk to your mother about this.”

 

I groaned. “Dad, please. I’m going to go blind! Don’t you have any sympathy for me?”

 

“I do, I do!” he responded quickly. “I understand where you’re coming from too. I just don’t want your mom to flip out on me.”

 

“Okay, fine. Have a chat with Mom.”

 

Sighing, he pushed himself up from the wooden kitchen table, running a hand through his chestnut hair. “I have to go to work now. Do you have any big plans for today?”

 

Shaking my head, I did my best to keep the smile that was threatening to spill onto my face off it. I didn’t want him getting too suspicious about my plans and then interrogating me about them. If he found out I was going to be with a guy today, he would definitely demand to meet him. “I’m just going to hang out with some friends.”

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“Need any money?”

 

“I’m all set, thanks,” I replied, pulling my forgotten bowl of Honey Bunches of Oats toward me. “What time will you be home?”

 

 

He paused for a moment, scrunching up his forehead. “Seven or eight. Don’t wait up for me for dinner.”

 

“Wasn’t planning on it.”

 

Rolling his eyes, he mussed with my hair before heading for the door. “See you later, Kiddo.”

 

“Bye, Dad.”

 

As soon as I heard the front door shut behind him, I extracted my iPhone from my pocket and went to my inbox. Every single message in it was from Chace. The silly grin I’d been holding back finally spread across my face. Chace was one lovely man. I clicked back to the first message he sent me.

 

By the way, don’t get into cars with strangers. That’s a bad habit, Rosie.

 

His text message was so accurate. On a normal day, I probably would have never gotten into that car with him. But seeing as how I’d gotten the news that had ruined my life, I didn’t blame myself for doing it. Nor did I regret it. If I hadn’t climbed into his car, I would have never gotten his number, and wouldn’t have been able to text him all week like I had been. Which probably would have led me into some sort of state of depression.

 

I dropped my head back and stared at the ceiling, my eyes focusing on the grooves in the paneling. The whole fact about my eyes losing their ability to see in four months still hadn’t really settled in. I was still in a state of disbelief. When I thought about it, my mind automatically went into denial. When my parents, who had both tried to have a discussion about it with me, talked to me about it, I just spaced out and didn’t listen to them. They didn’t know what it was like. They would never know what it was like being told that you were going to go blind. Hell, I didn’t even know it was like yet. I was in a continuous state of denial.

 

I stretched my right hand out in front of me, taking in the details of it. There were five wrinkles in my skin at each finger joint, but only three on my thumb. When I formed a fist, my knuckles stood out ghostly pale and I could make out the indent

 

 

that split them into two halves. My veins stood out immensely, the blue contrasting the white of my skin in a way that was almost alien.

 

There was a smooth, pale scar above my middle knuckle from where my old cat Kinder had clawed me a few years back. Each detail I could see clearly and perfectly. Perfectly and clearly.

 

“Your eyesight will be gone by the end of this year.”

 

 

I clenched my fist harder. It’d already been a week since that fateful trip to the eye doctor’s. That meant if Vasquez’s words were true, I only had fifteen weeks left until my vision would be gone completely. After that I’d never be able to see again…

 

“Impossible,” I stated out loud. “I’ll believe it when it happens.”

 

But it is going to happen , a malicious voice inside my mind stated. It’s going to happen, and there’s nothing you can do about it.

 

I shook my head, ridding myself of the depressing voice. The constant bickering between my inner voice and thoughts was starting to irritate me. Was it wrong to want to fool myself into thinking it could all be a lie? If it helped my deal with it, I thought it was fine. But my damn inner voice really needed to shut up.

 

“I can’t do this,” I stated out loud, staring blankly at my bowl of cereal. “If I can’t trick myself into not believing it, why can’t I at least accept it? This sucks! I hate this! Why me?”

 

The telltale lump in my throat was starting to form and I forced myself to calm down, taking deep breaths and counting to ten. Crying wasn’t going to solve anything. It would just make me seem weak. I didn’t want to seem weak.

 

Blinking rapidly to dry my eyes, I sat up a little straighter in my seat. Instead of sulking around, I was going to finish my breakfast and then go get ready. Chace was coming at noon and I wanted to look attractive. The last time we’d seen each other, which was also the first time we met, I’d probably looked like a drowned squirrel… though I hadn’t realized it at the time. I grimaced at the thought of what I possibly looked like.

 

 

Definitely didn’t want a repeat of that.

 

“Okay, shower time,” I announced to myself, dropping my spoon into my empty cereal bowl. “I should be ready just on time…”

 

Being ready on time was a wish upon a shooting star. It was already five after by the time I got around to deciding on what outfit to wear. On a whim, I’d chosen to curl my hair instead of leaving it in its normally wavy state, which had taken half an hour. That, on top of an hour-long shower and the time it took for me to put on my makeup, added up to my noon deadline. It was a lucky thing Chace seemed to be running late.

 

As if on cue, my phone began to buzz on my desk. I quickly snatched it up, hitting the answer button. “Hello?”

 

“Morning Rosie! I’m outside.”

 

“Ahh, okay. Give me a few seconds,” I responded awkwardly, ripping through the shirts in my closet. “I can’t find anything to wear.”

 

It was silent on the other end for a moment. “It’s chilly. Do you have a white sweat shirt?”

 

“Yes?”

 

“Wear that.”

 

Confused, I stopped searching through my closet and went over to my dresser, pulling out my white cashmere sweater. “Okay, I’ll wear it.”

 

“And blue jeans.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Just wear it,” he urged. “I bet that outfit would look cute on you.”

 

I smiled. “But you don’t even know what my sweatshirt looks like.”

 

 

“I will if you hurry up and get down here.”

 

Rolling my eyes, I placed the phone on my dresser and put it on speakerphone so I could dress and talk at the same time. “Does it matter if I wear light or dark jeans?” “I would say light.”

 

“Sure,” I responded, opening my middle drawer and pulling out a light blue pair of Laguna skinny jeans. After struggling into them, I pulled on some socks and finished my outfit with a pair of low-top Converse.

 

From the other end of the phone I could hear Chace humming Moves Like Jagger and thumping his hand on what I assumed to be the steering wheel of his car. Grinning, I checked myself out in the mirror quickly, satisfied by my reflection. Chace’d been right— I did look pretty cute with the sweatshirt on. It was hard to find shirts that matched both my eyes and hair well. About as hard as finding eyeliner that looked good…

 

“You ready yet?”

 

“Yep, I’m grabbing my wallet then I’m on my way.”

 

“Today’s another date. Don’t bring your wallet.”

 

“But—”

 

“But nothing. Even if you bring it I won’t let you pay for anything.”

 

Pursing my lips, I tossed my wallet back onto my desk. “You know, we could’ve started a new day and age. Where males and females take turns paying for dates.”

 

He laughed an alluring laugh. “You’re a strange girl. You actually want to pay for a date? You should want to save your money for like, makeup or something.”

 

“Hey, that’s sexist,” I said, mocking a horrified voice.

 

 

LOVE AT LAST SIGHT

 

BY Jordan Lynden ✔

 

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