Somebody's Watching Me

Chapter One

"Cole"

I grab the groceries from the back of the car and shut the door with one leg. The bags that were filled with cans weighed down the most and yet somehow I made it one trip until I reached my apartment door. I set them all down, the stinging from my wrists grounding me into the present. Work had been hard, and while it was one of the few decent jobs, a few people were still laid off.

I unlocked the door and moved everything to the counter. There was still a lot to do in the new apartment. I only had two couches, the coffee maker (which I went a little bougie with), and my memory foam king mattress in my room. The second bedroom was going to be turned into a library once I unpacked everything. The situation with my old roommate hadn't panned out leaving me to move into a completely different complex.

The fridge was bare before I got to work putting the food away. This will be okay, I kept thinking. It's a new beginning, new change, so what if you don't know everyone here.

But that was the problem. I had my roots in that small town. Everyone knew everyone, and unfortunately that's how my problem began when I said yes to a roommate. A new change where there would be no one but me.

It took half an hour to stalk up on everything and even in that time, I thought I misplaced my key, and then I nearly dropped my phone in the trash can. There was a map of Colorado Springs in one of the drawers and I unfolded it on the kitchen counter, studying it. This made things easier and it was more accessible to drive to my workplace. Good, I would need the sleep. On my bed. Instead of the backseat of my car. I rubbed my eyes. It was still light out and while I didn't really NEED a tea, or did I really have the money to BUY my tea, I needed to check out the neighborhood otherwise my anxiety would never let me sleep.

According to the map, there were at least four coffee places, yet it was so tricky to find a spot that did my Chai right. Mind you, I'm no Karen or Kevin or what have you. And I'd never throw a drink at a poor worker. But they only had one chance to make a Chai that fit my tastes. It only consists of me drinking said Chai, and then something would be wrong, and then I just wouldn't go to that place anymore. I didn't like my Chai sweet, but most of the Spicy Chai just tasted like diluted sweet Chai. It would still be slightly sweet. I wanted my Chai to, put it frankly, knock me on my ass. Yes, so I'm a little picky.

Okay. I'm a bit of a control freak. But like I said, I never disrespected a worker. So take that how you will.

After much debating and review seeking online, I made my bet and picked a place. The place in question was called "Ground me Up" which I admit, was a bit catchy if not a completely wrong way to name a coffee shop. It was busy for a Friday evening and to my nice delight, they did in fact serve Chai. I hope my request wouldn't derail the innocent looking young man behind the counter. If I wasn't so caught up with my own chaos, I'd happy give a little tease, and move my hips some. I was next in line.

"Hi-ya! Um, I'd like a large spicy Chai but if you could add a hint more spice than you normally do, I'd love that." I grinned to him, hoping I could charm my way to something decent.

"Of course, Sir", Once he confirmed my order, I submitted my payment with my card and waited patiently by the counter.

When I looked over to where my car was, I noticed a flower on my windshield. Not just any old red rose, but an orange rose, with the tips of its pedals red. I almost forgot to breathe as I stared at it, wondering if it was from someone in the coffee shop but nobody looked really interested in me. Everyone was minding their own business.

I wasn't paying attention so when the guy nudged me, I quickly grabbed my iced Chai and bolted to my car. The two colored rose was completely fresh. Not a dent or withered part on it. I picked it up and smelled it. It smelled absolutely amazing. I didn't know if I wanted to run back to the safety of my own apartment, or look around. It was such a simple thing yet it derailed me completely. It's not the rose itself, but the COLOR.

Someone gave me my favorite rose, in my favorite color and placed it on the windshield of my car. I was honored. I was floored. I was a little scared. If it were a simple red rose, I'd be flattered. But .... It's my favorite rose. Something I haven't really told anyone about...