Wrong Time Right Place

2 - Callie

Cherry Creek, Colorado, United States - 2014

I went to the Cherry Creek Mall the Saturday before senior year began with the intention of buying a few new shirts and maybe a pair of jeans or two. My best friend Ian Caldwell told me it was time I expand my interests. I'd grudgingly agreed that maybe he was right. Senior year could quite possibly be the year I found my niche in the grand scheme of things. I'd finally burst out of my shell, as Ian so humorously put it.

What I hadn't counted on was walking into the lady's restroom five minutes after making it to the mall and finding some guy passed out on the floor. I came to a screeching halt, throwing out a hand to brace myself against the wall.

"What the hell?"

The guy was sprawled out beneath the paper towel dispenser with one of his arms thrown across his face, and he was snoring quietly. It was strange enough finding a guy sleeping in the women's restroom, but what was even weirder was his getup. He was wearing a suit with a black bow tie and cummerbund that didn't look like they were bought at the Men's Warehouse. His shoes were leather and stuffy looking and definitely something you wouldn't find at Payless.

Actually, this guy seemed like something you wouldn't even find in this century.

I got a good look at his face when he moved his arm, turning over in his sleep, and my first thought was, holy shit.

As unusual as it was finding this guy passed out in the restroom, there was no denying that he was pretty damn fine. He seemed handsome in an old-timey, classic sort of way, with high cheekbones, a straight nose, and a strong jawline. Any girl would kill to have eyelashes as long as this guy's, and even though his dark hair was a mess, it still managed to look stylish. The only thing that marred his almost perfect face was the thick gash across his forehead, dried blood caked around it.

No wonder the guy was unconscious - I would be, too, with a head wound like that. But how the hell had he wound up in a girl's restroom?

Well, weed had been legal in Colorado for a while - maybe this guy smoked a joint on his way to an audition for Jane Eyre and got into a bit of trouble. He looked young enough to be a frat boy from DU or one of the other colleges in Denver. But did frat boys normally go around dressed in suits? My guess was no.

Except that still didn't answer my question as to how the guy even wound up in the restroom at the Cherry Creek Mall in the first place. And what the hell was I supposed to do now?

My eyes narrowed as I stared down at the guy. He was still snoring away without a care in the world.

I could just leave and find another restroom. Let him be someone else's problem. The more compassionate side of myself disagreed with this, reasoning that if I were in the same situation, I wouldn't want to be left alone. And technically, he was injured.

I blew out a sigh in defeat. It was the right thing to do. Maybe senior year would also turn out to be the year of the new and improved Callie - the one who didn't always think of awkward or difficult situations as someone else's problem. I deserved an award for my ability to worm my way out of any situation I felt wasn't worth my time.

The guy seemed harmless enough - actually kind of pathetic with the way his lips were turned down in a pout in his sleep - so I crept closer to nudge him in the side with the toe of my sandal.

"Hey. You're going to have to wake up, buddy."

I got no response. He remained fast asleep, still snoring.

"Hey," I repeated, this time louder. "Wake up."

The guy let out a groan, turning his head to use his arm as a pillow. "Do be quiet. I am trying to sleep."