Chapter Four - The Sunglass Showdown and That Girl From... Somewhere?

CHAPTER FOUR

The Sunglass Showdown and That Girl From... Somewhere?

I’M PULLED IN by gravitational force—or maybe it’s the Buy 1, Get 1 Half Off sign.
The sunglass kiosk gleams like a shrine to irresponsible purchases.
Mirrored aviators.
Retro heart shapes.
Tiny ones that make you look like you read philosophy in abandoned jazz clubs.

The guy behind the counter is chewing gum like it owes him money.
“Looking for something… bold?” he asks.

He hands me a pair that look like they could command a yacht and commit tax fraud.
I put them on.
Suddenly I feel like my name is… Chadwick.
He nods. “Power move.”

But then—her.
She walks up, holding a smoothie that’s way too vibrant to be from the food court.
Her hoodie says Reality Is Overrated in lowercase italics.
Her shoes are untied.
She doesn’t notice me, at first.

But she says, to the gum-chewer:
“Got anything that makes me look like I’ve seen things?”
He hands her a pair of hexagonal sunglasses so sharp they could cut generational trauma.

She puts them on.
And for a moment, we lock eyes.
Or reflections.
It’s hard to tell.

I blurt, “Those are nice.”

She replies, “These feel like a new timeline.”

We both kind of half-smile.
Then she gets a text.
Her face changes.
She says, “Gotta go,” like she means it.

And before I can ask if I know her from high school or… a past life,
she’s gone.
Just like that.

The sunglass guy shrugs.
“Bro, that’s the third time this week.”

I don’t question it.
I pay for the sunglasses I don’t need.
I’m down $19.
And up a mystery.

As I walk away, someone shoulder checks me and keeps walking.

It’s That One Guy.
You know the one.
The guy who’s everywhere but somehow never says a word.

He disappears into the crowd like fog.
Wearing socks and sandals.
Holding a pretzel.
Carrying… a sword?

Whatever.

Mall logic.

And I still haven’t checked on my wallet.
But it’s fine.
This is all just a totally normal day.