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20 | On the Market DEMON DAD

I can’t decide if something’s wrong with me or if she’s the problem. Either way, Sasha and I are incapable of having a normal interaction.

When I see her in the cereal aisle, she’s tangled in her earbuds and I’m dripping wet (as she points out with a scrunched nose). But, in my defense, what adult owns a raincoat? She does. That’s who. And it’s weirdly good on her. Green like her eyes, which widen in what looks a lot like horror when she sees me.

I don’t know what’s up, but she was clearly not thrilled about running into me.

And here I thought we had bonded over cotton candy. Which makes me think I’ve way misread things. Which is not excellent. My stomach drops. But the train has left the station. So, here’s hoping for the best.

TO-DO

Finish call.

Finish grocery shopping.

Put the box of cereal back once Sasha is definitely gone since I never needed cereal in the first place.

Stop making up pathetic excuses to be near her when you see her.

Figure out why you’re making up pathetic excuses to be near someone who salutes you. (I’m pretty sure that’s not a sign of sexual attraction, by the way.)