When he didn’t answer, I began fiddling with my fingers. I knew nothing about this guy, other than the fact that he passed my house every night, which didn’t relieve my nerves. He could be a murderer or a stalker, for all I knew.

I honestly wouldn’t of been surprised if he was a murderer. If only I remembered that I took a self-defense class the year before.

At one point, he took out his ear buds, and just looked at me hard. I thought I heard him grunt or something, but he remained straight-faced. I grunted, and walked with his hand still on my shoulder.

We zigzagged through town in the dark. There was something different about town after hours, where the streets were free of cars and barely anyone was out. It was an oddly freeing feeling, having no one stare at you, or feeling judged. He relaxed his hand when we passed one of the several dry cleaners in town, and his hand dropped off my shoulder completely when we passed the train station.

After about an hour and a half, we ended up back at my house. The walk had actually helped; it might of just been the winter air, or the fact that I was forced to be alone with my thoughts. But it helped. Though I didn’t really know how to approach and thank him for the situation at hand.

“Thanks for the walk,” I whispered. His expressionless face didn’t change; neither did his glossy stare fixated on me. He glared, almost like he was unimpressed with me. I smiled nervously, which dissipated quickly. My curiosity for who this guy was made me feel so dreadfully uncomfortable, so I turned on my heels and began headed towards the front door. I turned, expecting him to be gone, but he appeared to have waited for me. He nodded his head goodbye and began walking again.

“What happened to you?” Alyssa asked as I walked up the stairs. “You left the house, like, two hours ago.”

I opened my arms and then dropped them to my sides. “I look okay, right?” I asked.

“What happened to you?”

I didn’t answer immediately because I was trying to make it sound, not creepy. Oh, I was just forced to go on a walk with this guy who I don’t know. “Well, nothing, really. You know that guy who always walks by our house?” Alyssa nodded, and I explained to her that I went for a walk with him.

She smiled. “You like him, don’t you?”

I shushed her loudly, despite the fact that she hadn’t said it loudly. “What is wrong with you?” I quietly shouted, my voice sounding hoarse. Sam suddenly peered out from a corner of the kitchen.

Alyssa put up her hands. “Sorry,” she whispered back. Her smile quickly returned and she whispered, “You like him, don’t you?”

“Are you serious?” I whispered to her. I stuttered from frustration, trying to change the topic; it didn’t work. “Why – wh-why would you ask me that?”

Alyssa leaned forward, waiting for a response. I didn’t give her one. After about a minute, she whispered, “That’s not a ‘no’.”

I sighed heavily through my teeth. I looked back and forth and told her, matter-of-factly, “I have never even spoken to him. I don’t even know his name.”

She stared at me vacantly, then burst out loud singing, “Adrian has a cruuuuush!”

Naturally, everyone wanted to know her name. I disappointed them with the fact that there was no one I liked, and that Alyssa was making up stories again. Alyssa was now never allowed to know anything about my walks with him. Ever.

And looking back, I probably would’ve kicked him hard in the leg and run. But I wasn’t all that smart back then, even if I knew too much about myself.