a blog for everyone and their mothers

zach. chapter 2.

Chloe Gordon

read chapter one first or else none of this is going to make sense. 

don’t say I didn’t warn ya. 

Ok, chapter two, here we go…


“So I do look like my photos, heck ya!” I was thinking, but didn’t say because I was panicked and nervous and sweating and probably super red. To be honest, I can’t remember what I said at all, but it was probably something stupid and mumbly. But we met. It happened. I most likely said hello and introduced myself and he probably did the same. 

So after we talked about who knows what for who knows how long, I realized we were standing right in front of a speaker that Hellen Keller herself could probably hear (sorry if that was an insensitive joke, but I need you to realize how loud this speaker was). Like I said, I don’t remember what we said or talked about during this first few minutes of analyzing whether this boy was a murderer or not, but I do remember screaming “WHAT” and “SORRY, WHAT DID YOU SAY?????” every two words. 

Then, because he’s smart and nice, he offered to buy me a drink. I pounced on this offer for three reasons: one, I was nervous, two, we’d finally actually be able to have a conversation without saying “what” after every two words, and three, I finally decided that this boy was most likely not a murderer. 

“What do you want to drink,” he asked, seemingly not nervous at all. 

“Shoot, shoot, shoot, why can I never think of a mixed drink besides a vodka cran. Those are so basic. What should I get? Hmm, think, think.” I internalized. Then I realized what I should order, “Orange juice and tequila please,” I answered pretending like he didn’t just ask me the hardest question of the century. After picking that drink I wondered how that became my drink of choice. But it did, and I was committed to it. 

After we got our drinks we found a booth hidden away from the crowd so we could actually hear and get to know each other. Again, I can’t remember specifically what we talked about, but I do remember that the conversation was so easy. I felt like I had known him forever, and I’m pretty sure we talked about religion, God, cancer, and politics, all without it being weird at all — a true testament to our compatibility (kidding, but also not really). 

What feels like ten minutes later, I looked down at my phone and realized that there were ten minutes left until the bar closes. We had been sitting and talking for at least two hours and it only felt like ten minutes. How does that happen with a still non-confirmed non-murderer? It usually doesn't, but it did. 

At this point, I was convinced my friends had left me because I hadn't seem them in quite literally two hours so I went on a mission to find them. They obviously didn’t leave me and when I reconnected they had already made a plan to go to Taco Bell, and if you know me, I quite literally never turn down Taco Bell so I asked Zach (oh, by the way, his name is Zach) if he wanted to come with us. He said yes, and off we went. 

And the rest is history. Hah, kidding.


stay tuned for chapter three.