The Replacement Girlfriend

Chapter 35

A hug and a kiss to Moooon for the neat little trailer she made me! ^_^ It made me laugh - sorta like the feeling you get when you see yourself on national TV and its sorta weird, but amazing at the same time. hahaha

 

35. How’s Friday Night?

The cardigan advertised on the billboard along the side of the road reminded Chase of Krislynn. It couldn’t be helped. She had a shirt just like it.

The car next to his when he stopped in front of the intersection reminded him of Krislynn. That couldn’t be helped either. It was blue – the color of her eyes.

The sun was like her smile. The breeze was like her touch. The setting sky was like her hair. The ocean. The buildings. The palm trees. The clouds. The stoplight. The street signs. There was nothing that didn’t remind him of her. Even the lyrics pumping out of his convertible’s stereo:

I was thinking about her

 

Thinking about me

 

Thinking about us

 

What we gonna be?

 

Open my eyes (yeah)

 

It was only just a dream

Everything reminded him of her.

The problem Chase was facing though was the realization that none of it should remind him of her. The sun was nothing like her smile, the breeze was nothing like her touch, and the color of the setting sky was nowhere close to the color of Krislynn’s hair. The ocean. The buildings. The palm trees. The clouds. None of it had any striking resemblance to her at all, yet object after object, his mind seemed to draw the same conclusion – Krislynn – and then after that, the kiss in the laundry room.

Even more frustrating were the lyrics coming out of the car stereo. Chase couldn’t even begin to comprehend it. For starters, he was pretty sure it was a love song – not exactly the way he was feeling or wanted to be feeling towards Krislynn in the first place, and even beyond that, the song was about a man who lost the woman he loves to someone else. If anything, the song should remind him of LaCienega.

But it didn’t.

It reminded him of Krislynn.

A billion thoughts infiltrated his head. Why did every object remind him of her? Why did he kiss her on impulse in the laundry room? Why did her face appear when he was listening to a sad love song? And then, his heart stopped as one single answer flooded his mind, and then another question proceeding right after it. Did he... Could he... actually like her?

Chase’s lungs constricted. His heart hammered so loudly inside his chest, he wasn’t sure which beat –the music or his heart – was the one he was listening to.

I was thinking about her