Ficly

Trouble

I typed “Charlotte” in the search box and tons of names popped up. There was no way I was looking through thirty pages of Charlotte’s. So instead I added my school’s name to my search. There were only two pages of Charlotte’s now. And, luckily, my Charlotte was on the bottom of the first page. I clicked on her name and saw her status: Charlotte Henson’s father came over today. It sucked. Causes for another…

I heard someone clear their throat behind me and I slowly turned my head to see the laptop’s owner along with my boss, “Nolan, what the hell are you doing?”

I couldn’t think of a lie, so I merely shurgged.

“You’re fired.”

Shit.

I returned home to my apartment building and walked right by Charlotte’s apartment, only to turn around and knock on her door, “Yes?” She asked, eyes narrowing at the sight of me.

How was I suppose to explain to her how I was now, technically, stalking her? Should I say it’s for her own good? So I know she doesn’t down a bottle or two of pills in her bathroom?

Shit.

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