Until We Meet Again

There was a boy, there was a girl, there was a 24 hour Wal-Mart, and there was a short, beautiful relationship that started with a bag of Cheetos. This is the story of him and her, she and he, and the power of coincidences and fate.

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Cheetos- (noun) [ chee-tōes ]

A delicious, cheese covered puff; the food of love.

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The girl and the boy were walking down the snack aisle in Wal-Mart when they first saw each other.

It was three o’clock in the morning. They each had their own reasons as to why they were out so late (or early, you could say), but they kept their mouths firmly shut, their eyes scanning the rows of Cheez-Its and Snack Packs.

The girl was wearing sweatpants and a v-neck t-shirt. Her hair was done up into a disgruntled bun. Purple bags nested under her blazing dark brown eyes. The boy, meanwhile, was freshly shaven, wearing skinny jeans and a gray hoodie, smiling slightly as he tried not to stare at the beautiful creature-the girl- that was standing only a few feet away from him.

He watched her as she picked out a jumbo sized bag of Cheetos.

“Good choice,” he found himself saying. She turned to look at him, raising her eyebrows in the process.

“Duh,” she replied, plopping the Cheetos into her empty basket. “They're the best.”

The boy grinned, taking down an identical bag down from the shelf and keeping it safely nestled underneath his arm.

“I prefer Doritos," he commented.

“Then why don’t you get them?”

The girl’s eyes shot bullets through his skin, and once again, the boy smiled.

“Because I want to get the same thing as you.”

The words escaped his lips before he could stop them. The girl chuckled, and it was light and airy. The boy thought it sounded a bit like chimes.

“Thanks, I guess,” she replied softly, easily.

She turned to walk away, and something in the boy began to panic.

“Wait, don’t go!” The boy cried, and almost instinctively, as if she had been expecting it, the girl turned back around.

“Yes?”

“I-I-what’s your name?” He asked, and he sounded breathless, slightly stupid.

The girl tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear. She coughed. The seconds before she answered felt like minutes. Hours, even.

“I’m no one.”

This time, when she turned around and walked away, the boy did nothing to stop her.

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