Warning

by Rayana S Hughes

  They all started to laugh: the twins, Tina, and Carol. Cary did the thing where he shakes his head and judges you intensely. Always being the butt of the joke gets old very quickly, so I calmly asked them what was so funny, but I was feeling slightly murderous, so I said it through clenched teeth.

  Janelle was the one who answered, “Oh hon, I only said there was no one on the plane so that you would be more willing to jump. Your friends alerted me that we might get all the way into the sky and you would change your mind, so I had my copilot hide in the back and take over right after you jumped.” That made way more sense seeming as what I thought had happened was borderline impossible. I looked at her incredulously.

  “You actually let these knuckleheads convince you to do that?” She just continued to laugh, and the rest of the group gave their individual consolations. At that point, I was very tempted to drop kick the nearest person. It happened to be Cary of course, so I whipped around and punched him in the arm. It hurt me more than it did him. As I was nursing my poor contused hand, I remembered that my ring was gone.

  Being gullible is a superpower

  Age 25

  If it Looks Bad, and Smells Bad, it Probably is Bad

  Skydiving took a lot out of us girls, so we decided that we wanted to go back to the hotel. It was time to tell the guys goodbye. We decided to stop at a place called Comido for dinner, very self-explanatory and quirky. It was quaint and the food was delicious, the Paella I ordered, which was a rice dish with saffron and toppings of choice, was top notch. When we arrived back at the hotel, Ricky spoke with Carol with a big smile on his face and wild gestures while Dominic spoke softly to Tina about who knows what. Probably a trip just for the two of them, and that left me and Cary to be awkward. Although I was just getting used to the idea of him, we had grown close those past couple of days. He was actually tearing up talking about how much fun he had.

  He told me we should keep in touch and we gave each other a long hug. He slid a note in my hand that he made me promise not to read until the next morning. The whole group made their rounds, giving hugs and it was truly time for Ricardo to go, they had a gig in London that they needed to catch a flight later that evening for. It was a very bittersweet farewell but Carol, Tina, and I retreated to our room, packed, and fell asleep. Now, at this time, you’re probably wondering, “Oh, Waverly, what if Cary is the one for you?” At this possible and plausible inquiry, I laugh, because you may have forgotten that this is not a love story.

  Wait for it…

  Age 25

  Realization

  When the morning came, so did the pilfering show. Tina was the first one awake. When she wakes up, she wants the whole world up with her. But the only people she could wake up in the present were Carol and me. Which she did with a very loud, “WHERE IS MY WALLET?”

  I almost fell out of bed. Her scream shook me like a ragdoll. Tina’s wallet was her pride and joy, she bought a black designer one with her own money after her first job in high school and kept it ever since. She always had it with her no matter what activity she was doing. If it were waterproof, she would shower with it. Which is why she felt the need to give me a concussion when she couldn’t find it.

  Carol, always the bearer of bad news bluntly and half asleep, said, “You probably left it somewhere. It’s long gone by now.” Tina’s eyebrows shot to the sky and she gave Carol a flummoxed look. I had to calm her down because I also saw her left hand gripping her bedside lamp. I didn’t feel like filing a battery and assault case for my two best friends, so I grabbed her shoulders and shook her out of it.

  “Tina, listen, you probably just misplaced it somewhere in the room. I’ll help you look.” We scoured the entire room up and down with no sign of her wallet. I even went to the front desk to ask if anyone had returned it. That was when we officially declared the wallet lost.

  When I returned to the room, Carol was just getting out of the shower. Tina was still turning things upside down to the point where the hotel room looked like a tornado had swept through. She was such a wreck that I subconsciously checked my bag for mine: it was there, but I discovered that my phone was not. At this point, Tina and I were both unhinged. I went from calming Tina to her calming me. Carol kept her distance from the two of us and tried to calm us down, terribly I might add. But she tried.

  That is until she checked her purse and realized that both her phone and wallet were gone. That was when Hurricane Carolina came, she practically threw the hotel bedding, and was a step away from ripping up the carpeting.

  We searched for about twenty more minutes before we finally gave up and sat down to think out our next move. Tina was the only one with a phone, so she texted the guys if they remembered where we were last with all our stuff, and if we possibly left anything in their mini cooper. I’ll give you two seconds to guess where our stuff went.

  Here is the breakdown: The message Tina sent to the group chat failed to go through. And all three of the boy’s numbers had blocked Tina’s number. At that moment, we were nincompoops and still neglected to see the truth of the matter until finally it sunk in. The truth hit all three of us at once. We were swindled by Ricardo.

  I couldn’t believe it. The boys we had spent the last couple of days with, who were nothing but perfect gentlemen and willing to show us real fun, the guys we trusted our lives with more than once, and specifically Cary, the guy who I wanted to understand, the guy who I hugged goodbye and most importantly the guy who wrote me a note from the heart, WAS A SMOOTH CRIMINAL. It doesn’t get much more twisted than that. But by far the best part was the contents of his note. It read:

  Dear Waverly,

  Let me say that these past couple of days spent with you were some of the best of my life. Not only are you beautifully cynical, but you also never failed to make me laugh. If you are reading this, that means that my job is done. In case you haven’t noticed, some of your valuables are gone. I left you your wallet because I figured you may need money for something. But, I had to take your phone and ring. My brothers and I have been doing this all our life and while I know it’s immoral, it’s the way we are forced to live. I hope you girls may one day understand and look back on this in positive light. After all, we did “fly together.” You truly were a treat to con and I hope for a beguiling life captured by you and your friends. By the time you read this, we are probably out of the country. But I wish you the very best. Have a nice life and keep being you, amiga.

  ~ Cary

  Is it possible to be charmed and appalled at the same time because I was on a roller coaster of emotions. The only reason I didn’t completely break down was because Carol and Tina were there to talk me off the metaphorical ledge. There was not much we could do about it, so we sat on our beds and contemplated the meaning of life. About three minutes through the big bang theory and its limitations, we all collapsed in a fit of titters.

  Yes, we were aware that we would have to change our credit card numbers, and get new phones, and find a way to stretch the twenty dollars I had for a taxi to the airport and breakfast. Yes, things did not look the best. However, life is about making mistakes, and our first one was trusting three charming boys who wanted to show us the city all because we asked them to. For that to have been done earnestly, we needed the force. But woe is me, how many people can actually say they were scammed after being taken on a private tour of the best sites in the city and dining in the most commendatory local restaurants of their dreams? Yeah, I bet you can’t.

  Vigilantes always win.

  Or maybe we just always lose?

  Age 26

  Okay, so it may be a little hard to top the antics of age twenty-five. But you may be forgetting that I’m presently thirty. That’s five more years of heartbreak. Stay alert and bear with me. Age twenty-six was kind of bland compared to the rest. It was typical and self-explanatory. But because this is me, we are talking about things that got way more deviant. The lucky man went by the name of Jensen. His name was almost as horrible as h
is personality. He smelled like cottage cheese, and he looked like a mountain lion. I feel nauseous when I think of the sweet nothings he whispered in my ear. He also had hair on his knuckles that he had dyed pink.

  Of course, this tidbit is my own fault because I actually thought I would need to settle. With the big three-o looming, I was getting desperate. I met Jensen in graduate school, and we had classes together. We didn’t really talk all that much, but he was decent enough at the time, so I tried extra hard not to judge the walking book by its cover. Before I continue, if you have a loved one who seems to be gravitating towards a significant other three stops short of going rogue, I beg of you to slap them out of it because its most certainty will never end well. In law school, I made a lot of lifelong friends. Like my current other two best friends, Amy and Ali. They were sisters and in their first year, just like me. Not to worry, they were not twins. I’ve steered clear of those since the Barcelona trip. No offense to the twins of the world, but if you are charming and you have a double, I don’t trust you.

  I met Jenson officially through Amy. She tricked me to say the least and placed this awful man into my life. As I write this, I realize I am being very harsh, but he was like the gnat that buzzes in your ear on a camping trip and doesn’t stop until you are back in your room safely. Amy had been dealing with him and wanted to place the pain upon my shoulders. I usually speak my mind so when I first met Jensen, I told him that he looked like Chewbacca, to which he laughed and looked at me lovingly. I know that look well, I used it a lot despite none of my previous crushes liking me back, and it’s the same look I gave Hotty. So, I knew in that moment I had caused my own demise.

  For starters, after he got my number (still digging that grave, I’m well aware) he would constantly text me the most random things. He would get nervous if I didn’t respond on time, and always wanted to hang out with me. I wanted to strangle him sometimes but devised a plan with Amy that wouldn’t land me in jail.

  We had a plan to dump him on Ali. She was more talkative than we were and could keep Jensen at bay, or so we thought. We introduced them on a Monday and by that Friday, Ali was storming us with her eyebrows knit together.

  “Guys, please take back your boy toy, he is driving me insane. He just offered to clean my socks after telling me a story about the number of bacteria that survive in them, even after they are washed. I was eating lunch and almost retched on my case files.” Just as she finished speaking, Jensen burst through the doors of the small student office, standing on his tippy toes to look around, I’m assuming for Ali.

  Ali ducked behind me and said, “Waverly, please handle this.” As I tried to pry her hands from the back of my shirt, I reminded her that I did not claim him.

  She cowered further behind me and huffed, “Well, neither do Amy nor I, but you are the most intimidating.” I took that as a compliment and at the moment, I figured either make sure Jenson gets the message or we’d have to kill him. Just kidding.

  After some more oblivious searching, Jensen finally spotted us. I don't know why it took him so long, the office was like eight hundred square feet with only six cubicles. The dude was blind.

  A beat later, he waved and walked over. I was mentally preparing myself and said aloud, “Okay guys, here we go.”

  Jenson looked on either side of me and smiling said, “Who are you talking to?”

  “Amy and Al—” I looked behind me. My so-called friends had left skid marks from their rush to leave the office. I made a mental note to lambaste them later. I turned back to the still smiling Jensen and said everything I needed to in one breath. “Listen, Jenson, I know you like to hang out with Amy, Ali, and I a lot and that you want to know more about us. But you are being very clingy and its starting to get on everyone’s nerves.”

  I said it so quick that he asked me to say it again.

  When he finally heard the message loud and clear, he cleared his throat. “Okay, I’m sorry, I was just excited to have human interaction. I’ve been doing online school since I was in diapers. So, I got a little carried away. I understand if I annoyed you guys.” And with that, he somberly walked away. Now, I’ll admit I almost felt bad for the fella, I even considered running after him to apologize for being so insensitive, but I didn’t. And right now, that makes me look like a bad person. But remember, this book is about heartbreak. And not necessarily just my own. Things turned disconcerting very fast.

  The first signs were not so bad, but still a little fishy, nonetheless. I arrived at my cubicle the next day after telling Jensen he sucked, and found my favorites, a bouquet of sunflowers and baby’s-breath on my desk chair.

  I was usually the first one there because I tended to go into work early, so I only had the note tied to the base of the vase to go off of.

  It was a yellow notecard that read:

  Sunflowers for the only sunshine in my life.

  — your secret admirer

  Why do I always get letters from the psychopaths? Obviously, it was Jensen because there was pink dye from his knuckles on the tip of the notecard. I was slightly confused, considering he was in the other student offices. I don’t know how he would have gotten in without the key, but I brushed it off. I had more important things to think about, like how I was going to eat the salad I brought for lunch with no fork. But then, the next day it was bluebells, and another note, similar to the first one. The day after it was tulips.

  I get that I’m awe-inspiring, but a bouquet of flowers everyday was unnecessary for even the most demanding people. So, at lunch time, when the two offices met to discuss a mock case, I went up to Jensen and asked him why he kept giving me flowers.

  This morons’ exact words were: “I don’t know what you are talking about, I don’t even know a flower shop near here.” He literally told me the first day we met that his mom owned a freaking floral boutique. He was lying through is his teeth. But I figured he was embarrassed that he had been caught, so I let it slide and proceeded with the rest of my day. I received flowers for the rest of the week and the next one. I stopped reading the messages at that point and chucked them straight in the trash. The notes that is, not the flowers.

  Free décor was a win-win in my books.

  But then one day the flowers and notes stopped.

  It got weirder. I started getting food. My favorite foods. Foods that I for a fact never told Jensen about, and that weren’t even edible. The food was plastic, like the food that comes in the play sets for little kids. And it would be an entire plastic feast on my desk. That only lasted three days because other people in the office would get there before me and see it. Jensen couldn’t let the rest of the office be aware that he was a freak. Nope, just reserved for me. How special. While all his actions were no doubt weird, I never saw him as a threat until he took matters on a more formidable route.

  He was not only doing this because he wanted me to like him. He did what he did to get me to notice him. Which was even more twisted than I could have ever imagined. So, introducing my stalker story … Frankly, I thought that only the girls who are drop dead gorgeous, and seem perfect at all times got preyed on by men like Jensen. Apparently, it can happen to anyone.

  So, stay safe my fellow reader, there could be someone staring at you this very moment.

  If you just looked around you and are still reading, that means the coast is clear which makes me very glad. But in my case, I’m the most unsuspecting person on this planet. You could tell me I’m in danger and I would be like, “Oh, is that so?”

  But now, I actually pay attention to my surroundings. Fool me twice and shame on me. Ok, so now time for the actual story.

  What kind of name is Jenson?!

  If your name is Jenson, chill, you were probably thinking the same thing.

  Age 26

  My Own Darn Fault

  My apartment is not the best. It’s more like a studio, or a janitor’s closet at best, with a bed and toilet. It’s all I can afford with my immense amount of student loans. The set-up
is pretty simple. I have a shower and toilet that I hide behind a wall partition. My bed sits beside a wardrobe that I keep my clothes and toiletries in. There’s a shrimpy bedside table that I keep at the foot of my bed and use as a desk. And a tiny kitchen that I use for my daily diet of ramen noodles sharing a nook with the landline phone. This apartment was built a long time ago. It’s quaint and industrial, just the two things I need for survival. It also has this huge plush rug that’s smack dab in the center. The main attraction.

  Usually, I never have anyone over because it’s so small and there’s not much to do. The only time my friends ever came over to visit was for a housewarming party I hosted a year ago.

  So, imagine my surprise when one day, I found a cereal bowl in the sink, after returning home for a lunch break. Me, a person who only brings breakfast on the go, exemplar: A granola bar. Therefore, there was no plausible reason for this bowl to be here. But being the cretin I am, I decided to pretend I had cereal for breakfast, walked backwards slowly out of my closet sized apartment and spent the night at Amy’s house, where she decided the final verdict of this predicament was a ghost.

  I don’t believe in that stuff, so I just decided to show her in person the next morning. As we walked up the stairs to the fourth floor where my closet was situated, she said through a laugh, “Hey, Waverly, what do you want to name your new friend? How about Casperian, or Ghosty, or Freddy?”