Society Rules by Katherine Whitley

uncooperative inner voice spoke sarcastically.
    Indie drove briskly to the grocery store, determined to stay focused and grounded. She parked and jumped out of the car, walking fast, keeping her head down, afraid to make eye contact with anyone, lest they see the frantic gleam in her eyes.
    Produce and cans, she tossed them carelessly into her cart with no real plan or thought, just going through the motions of your average shopper. She finally decided that she had enough supplies to make it look as if she were there for an actual reason, and got in line.
    Almost immediately, she felt a warming sensation on the back of her neck.
    Not unpleasant. Rather soothing, actually.
    She exhaled deeply . . . a heaving shuddering breath, like after a good hard cry. In a flash, her body suddenly tensed, and Indie turned slowly. She knew exactly what, or rather who, she was going to see.
    Sure enough . . . it was the man. He was standing much too closely behind her, his eyes brilliantly blue and focused sharply upon her.
    This was too much. Indie started to walk away from her shopping cart and leave the store.
    “Wait!” He had spoken softly, but it startled her like a shout, and brought her to an instant halt.
    “Please . . . just tell me why you are stalking me. What do you want?” Indie stammered helplessly.
    “Just a moment of your time, please . . . nothing sinister, I assure you.” The sound made her sway.
    That soothing voice. The rhythm of his accent was like a soft song to her hypersensitive ears.
    Indie shook the thought away and whispered, “Why though? Why would you want a moment of my time?”
    “Don’t you want to talk about it, Indie?” She could see the concern in his eyes. Concern and a hungry yearning that made Indie feel restless and fidgety.
    The way he spoke her name was like a physical touch . . . a caress. His soft voice made her shiver, just a little. Indie could not help but notice that his hair looked as if he had attempted to sort it out a bit, and failed.
    It was still endearingly mussed.
    God, stop it! She commanded herself, wanting to scream. She clutched at her head with both hands as she backed away.
    “There is nothing to talk about!” Indie spoke decisively, dropping her arms so that she could fold them defensively across her chest.
    “Oh, okay . . . whatever you say,” he said with a slight shrug. “But I think you may change your mind.”
    “Do you, now?” She tried to sound sarcastic, but it was pathetic, even to her own ears.
    “Yes, I really do!” My beautiful, defiant one , he added silently. For the second time, she detected the sparkle of humor in his teal-blue eyes. He then turned serious.
    “You’ll have to agree that today was a lot to take in, and I’m sure it won’t make it to your dinner table tonight as a topic of casual conversation, will it?” He held her gaze, now projecting an elusive emotion in those eyes, and then exhaled sharply.
    “Look, just know that I am here for you, when you are ready to talk about it.”
    “ You are here for me, huh? You, who I have no idea who you are . . . waiting for me to turn to you?” Indie placed her items on the counter to pay for them, and turned back toward him. “Well, I wouldn’t hold my breath if I were . . .”
    He was gone.
    A pair of teenage girls in the next line snickered at her and she felt her face ignite. She paid the bill, collected whatever it was she had purchased, and fled.
    Her thoughts crawled frantically through her brain, their tiny sharp claws prickling as she guided her little green Volvo through town. How could a day that started out so ordinary, so like every other day, take such a turn for the surreal? Indie dreaded walking in the door to her house. She tried to picture the scenario:
    “Hi honey, how was your day?” Will would ask  . . . and she could reply with something like, “Well, you won’t believe this, but I was told by one of my patients today, that I am some