Run

   To say that dating had not been going well for her would be like saying history didn’t go well for the dinosaurs. Whatever blast or alien abduction fatefully swooped in to take their existence accidentally took her ability to get a date along with it.           

                She arrived at the coffee shop on the agreed-upon time of 11:30. It was now noon, and there was no tall, toe-headed Luke in sight.

                She should have known that the cross-over from ghosting to standing people up would be high. She, herself, had ghosted quite a few guys up to this point. It was usually for crimes such as responding with too few words in their conversations, or, in some cases, responding with way too many words. Thinking back on it, maybe she really was just as bad as everyone else. What she did have to say for herself was that she would never stand someone up for a date.

                She checked her phone for the 30th time since sitting down. No messages. She went to the Bumble app, unmatched with Luke, and began to stand up from the table.

                “Hey, where ya goin’?” A voice called from behind her.

                She turned around and saw a man with dirty-blonde hair and thick-rimmed glasses walking toward her.

                “Um, I’m sorry, are you talking to me?” She said, pointing to herself.

                “Yeah, you’re waiting for me, right?” The guy asked as he approached the table.  

                “Luke?” She asked with more confusion in her tone than she meant to let escape. She didn’t want him to think that he was all but completely unrecognizable to her. She couldn’t blame him entirely, though. He did only have one photo with his actual face in it on his profile, and it was of him posing far from the camera by some statue. The rest of his photos were either of landscapes or his golden retriever. They come out with one study about how guys with pictures of their dogs get more likes, and suddenly, every profile is riddled with “fur babies”. At this point, it’s almost becoming a red-flag, she thought before shaking herself back into the conversation.

                “Yeah, I’m so sorry, how long have you been waiting here for me?” The guy pulled up a chair and sat down.

                “I mean, we agreed on 11:30. I’ve been sitting here for half an hour. I thought, for sure, you had ghosted me at this point.” She let herself laugh to loosen up the conversation. She wasn’t happy with him, but he did show up, so she might as well make the best of it.

                “I am so sorry. I mis-calculated the time it would take me to get here from across town.” He sounded sincere in his apology.

                She scanned his face for anything recognizable to his single picture. Maybe she could make out the eyes if she really thought about it.

                “I honestly didn’t really know what to expect since you don’t have a lot of pictures of yourself.” She said, trying not to let hints of disappointment seep through.

                “Yeah, I don’t like to take a lot of pictures of myself. That one you saw was from years back. I guess I should update it, huh?” He smiled shyly and looked to his lap.

                “It’s a great picture, though.” She shot the words out of her mouth a little too quickly. She didn’t want to make it any more obvious that she didn’t find him to be as attractive in person. “And your dog is so cute.” She added on, hoping that there was some secondary study—that he just happened to read—about how when a woman compliments a man’s dog, it means she is a worthy suitor.

                “Oh, thank you. That dog is my life.” He said, looking up to meet her eyes.

                Okay, so he wasn’t terrible looking, she thought. Oh man, maybe she also read the same fictional article about dog compliments and was applying it to him, as well.

                They spent the rest of the date chatting lightly about their jobs and hobbies. He was a runner and would go to various parks around town to run their trails when he had the time. She had played soccer her whole life, so she agreed to find a day to go to the park with him—assuming the soccer ball could join them.

                At the end of the date, she told him she would text him the next time she had a free moment to meet up. He told her that he had actually just gotten a new phone that morning—one of the reasons he was so late—so he gave her his new number, and they parted ways.

                 They texted a few times over the next few weeks. They agreed to meet up again for a dinner date the next weekend. She made endless jokes about him being hours late, but he always took the jokes well and did everything he could to ensure her that he would show up on-time.

                When the day finally came, he offered to pick her up from her house to take her to dinner. That was not a normal course of action for her. She didn’t like people knowing where she lived, and she was terrified at the thought of not being able to escape the date easily if things went sideways. She knew that these fears were less rational when it came to her situation with Luke, though. She had already met him in person, they had talked for weeks, and she felt he was trustworthy and safe. So, she gave him her address and agreed to be picked up.

                He arrived with a bouquet of flowers in hand. She was delighted to see him in formal clothing. Nothing bumps a guy’s number from a 6 to an 8 like well-fitting, big-boy clothes.

                She took the flowers and smiled.

                “That smile makes every one of those flowers worth it.” He said with a grin.         

                She blushed and made her way out to the car with him. For someone who works in tech, this guy did NOT have the car she was expecting. It was an old Toyota—she would have guessed 20 years old based on her zero knowledge whatsoever of cars—that had a rust-stained, brown paint job, and leather seats all but torn to shreds.

               “Did your dog do this?” She asked, motioning to the seats.

               “What dog?” He asked, seemingly annoyed at the mention of the chairs.

                “Uhh your dog? The one in your pictures on the app?” She was put off by his sudden stand-offish response.

                “Oh!” His eyes became instantly brighter. “Yes! Yeah, my dog scratches up everything. You should see my couch.” He said with a laugh.

                His demeanor changed so quickly, she felt an emotional whiplash from the interaction.

                “What’s your dog’s name?” She asked.

                “Doug.” He responded.

                “Doug? I thought it was a girl.” She laughed at the idea of a female dog named Doug.”

                “Why did you think that?” He asked.

                “It’s on your profile. You referred to her as the number one woman in your life.” She tried to remember exactly how he had put it.

                “Oh, yeah, that was a different dog. Doug is my other dog. Do you like Italian food?” He switched the subject while keeping his eyes fixed on the road in front of him.

                “Yeah, absolutely.” She responded while wondering what was up with his two dog story. He seemed so obviously annoyed at her for bringing it up in relation to his seats that she didn’t want to push it a second time, so she just dropped it.

                When they got to the restaurant, they were greeted by a hostess who warned them of the time they would be waiting before getting seated. “It’ll be able 45 minutes.” The lady said with a tone mixed with sorrow and hope that the two would get the hint and go somewhere else.

                “That’s fine, we’ll wait.” Luke said, and they sat down on a bench near the host stand.

                They chatted about their days and made references to the various phone conversations they had been having all week.

                After a few minutes, another couple entered the restaurant. The girl swore she recognized the guy, but she couldn’t quite place from where. She heard him tell the hostess his name and that he had reservations for a party of 2. That was when she realized how she knew him.

                She was frozen in her chair for a few seconds before her date finally asked her if she was okay.

                “I’m fine.” She said, not looking up. “I think I just don’t feel good. I’d like to go home.”

                “Oh. Are you sure? They’re probably going to call us, soon. Do you want to give it a few minutes, maybe it will pass?”

                “Yeah, maybe. I think I’ll just go to the bathroom really quick.” She grabbed her purse and began to weave through the restaurant looking for a restroom sign.

                Once she found it, she went in to one of the stalls and pulled her phone out. She pulled up the number for “Luke” prior to him getting a “new” phone, and she called it.

                There was no answer—which she expected—but she did hear a voice come on to explain that he could not answer her call at the moment. The voice was not that of her current date.

                Suddenly, everything started making sense to her. This man didn’t remember his dog because he didn’t actually have a dog. He had been sharing stories with her of his time as a website developer all because she had brought up asking him about it since she saw it on his profile. She had even been the one to call him “Luke” at the coffee shop. She had given him every bit of information he needed to pretend to be her original date.

                She then frantically pulled up her best friend’s number and tried to call her. No answer. She downloaded the Uber app and went to reach for her wallet to put her credit card information in, but her wallet wasn’t in her purse. Had it fallen out in her date’s car? Did she even bring it at all? She wondered.

                She was in a different part of town than she normally visited. She had no idea how to get home or who to call to help get her there. She also realizes now that this strange man knows where she lives. She wonders if bailing on him to hitch-hike home will somehow make him angrier and lead to a psycho stranger waiting for her once she got home.

                She also considered the option of just playing it cool, getting home safely with this man, and then doing the usual slow-ghost. She would talk to him less and less throughout the weeks until finally, communication would stop. She decided that this might actually be the safest option.

                She left the bathroom and headed back over to where he was sitting.

                “I am so sorry.” She said with a half-smile. “I did not mean to leave you sitting here, I just feel so gross. I hate to cut our date short, but do you think there’s any way we can just go back to my place? I promise, I’ll make it up to you another day.” She put her hand lightly on his forearm.

                “Of course, no problem. I’m sorry you’re not feeling good.” He placed his other hand over hers and gave her a concerned smile.

                She was going to be okay, she thought.

                They began to drive back to her house. She made light conversation with him about his schedule for the next few weeks. He—presumably—made up some websites he would be developing for various big-named companies. It was almost like he was bragging, which felt so funny to her knowing what she knows now.

                She felt like she was doing a good job keeping the peace in their conversation while internally, she was losing it. She was in the car of an absolute stranger. She had been lied to for weeks by this guy. She had shared unsavory pictures of herself with him. What was he going to do with those? She knew nothing of who this person actually was, and if something happened to her, no one would have any idea who actually took her.

                She did her best to maintain her composure while going through every horrible, murderous scenario in her mind. She listened to way too many true-crime podcasts to not be prepared for something like this, she thought.

                After a few minutes of chit-chatting, a car pulled up behind theirs and began to follow them closely. Good, she thought, at least there will be one witness to interview during her “First 48” episode.

                “Is that a cop?” Her date asked only seconds before the lights began to flash.

                They pulled over while discussing what it was they could be getting pulled over for. The cop walked up to the driver side window and knocked on it.

                “License and registration.” The cop said the second the window was down.

                Her date pulled out the license from his wallet and ruffled through some papers in the glove box below her knees before pulling out the registration.             

                “Is something wrong, officer?” Her date asked.

                “You just have a tail-light out. I don’t mean to scare you, I just have to verify that this is your first time being informed of that fact. You have 72 hours from this warning to get it fixed, you hear me?” The officer looked up at them both from a lowered chin.

                “Yes, sir. I’ll get right on it.” Her date said, relieved.

                “Tom Johnson? You Mindy Johnson’s boy?” The officer asked while handing back the license.

                She froze in her seat. Tom. His name was Tom. And now, Tom knows that she knows that his name is NOT Luke.

                Her date dropped his head in silence for a few seconds before saying, “No, sir, my family’s not from around here.”

                “Ah, my mistake. You two kids have a good night.” The officer waved into the car and began walking back to his.

                Tom still had his head down when he began to roll the window back up. He slowly looked over at her with a laugh. “Luke is my middle name, in case you were wondering about that.” He slowly began to turn the car back on.

                “Oh, yeah, I figured. I have a lot of friends that go by their middle names.” She spoke quickly while sweat beads began to pile on her forehead.

                He looked over at her, again, but this time, he didn’t look away.

                The car was running, but he did not appear to be ready to drive it. He stared at her for what felt like minutes before he said, “You know my name’s not Luke, don’t you?”

                The fake smirk dropped from her face, and her cheeks bloomed a bright red.

                “What? No, it’s your middle name, right? Tom is just your given name, I get that.” She said, trying to convince him of how understanding she was of the situation.

                He turned the car off and place the keys in his shirt pocket. He took his gaze off of her and looked back toward the road in front of him. “I really like you, you know?” He said with a new quality to his voice that she didn’t recognize. It was like he became a new person in a matter of seconds.

                “I like you, too. I don’t understand what’s happening.” She said--trying to sound naïve yet calm. “Why did you stop the car? You know, I actually am feeling a little better and maybe even hungry. We could go to the sandwich shop by my house and get something quick.” She played off the weirdness like she was completely blind to it.

                He looked at her again, pulled his keys back out of his pocket, and restarted the car.

                A wave of adrenaline washed over her. She was relieved, but should she be? Would she have been better off with a stopped car because she could have at least jumped out and ran with it stopped, she thought.

                “Listen carefully,” He began while pulling back onto the county road. “I am going to take you to this sandwich shop, and you are going to get out of my car and run. Run as fast as you can until you get home. I will follow you, but only because I have to. I won’t catch you unless you make it too easy for me to. It has to look real if you’re going to get away.” His voice was brand new, this time.

                She was a melting pile of goose bumps in the seat next to him. Her eyes were glued to the horizon in front of her. “I don’t…” She started.

                “You’re a smart one. I think you have a lot going for you.” He cut her off, “What we do with the women we take is not meant for women like you. I am only letting you have this chance to run because I have grown to like you. I don’t usually start to feel this way toward my subjects, but I have this fondness for you that I can’t explain.” He turned the car onto the road that the sandwich shop was on. “It’s up here on the right?” He asked.

                “Yes.” She said with a whimper.

                “You understand what I’m asking of you, correct?” He asked her as he turned into the parking lot.

                She understood nothing about the situation, but she did know a backroad to her house behind the shop. It was one her friends and her would eat at after school all the time when she was a kid. She knew all the woods near and around it. “Yeah.” She said, unbuckling her seatbelt.

                “Don’t try anything funny. If you think calling the police will help you, you can join the rest of the girls back where I’m going who thought the same.”

                She began to shake in the seat next to him.

                “Hey,” he turned to her, “Listen, you are never safe. Don’t you ever let a random guy come up to you anywhere without you knowing exactly who he is first, okay?”

                She nodded without looking over at him.

                “Remember, if you don’t make it hard enough to catch you, I will catch you. And if I catch you this time, I can’t let you go.” He turned the car off and began unbuckling his own seatbelt. “Run.” He said, almost under his breath.

                She threw the car door open and ran behind the building as fast as she could, leaving the passenger-side door swinging open behind her.