Yes, but you run into a different problem.

You press your eyes shut and shake your head, attempting to physically expel these new and unusual thoughts and feelings. Tonight’s goal is Liz’ party. Focus on that.

You grab the door and pull.

Just need to make it to the party.

You keep to the back of the store, your eyes locked ahead, rows of beer and sugary-beverages passing by.

Just need to get out of here.

You turn at the end of the isle and head for the door, drinks giving way to magazines and snacks.

Just need to get back to Alicia.

The clerk is saying something; to you or to someone else, you’re not sure. You ignore it.

Just need to be around other women.

You push open the door, the evening summer air a welcome change from the freezing station.

Just need to get back to the-

The car was gone.

… what?

You stand there for a moment, so focused on getting here that now that it isn’t what you expected, you have trouble understanding exactly what’s going. By the time your mind finally kicks back into gear, the confusion slowly gives way to fear. You immediately start whipping around, eyes searching the lot for Alicia’s car: A semi-truck, empty spaces, a purple Camaro, more empty spaces, a set of tail lights leading down the street...! Is that her? Should you yell? Run after it? Would it even help? This has to be some sort of mistake. You start to circle around the pump, almost in some vain hope that her and the car will magically and suddenly appear if you look behind it again. Around once more. And again. It has to be here. You become dreadfully aware that the nearby streetlights are starting to come on as the sun sets.

This… this has to be a mistake. There’s an easy answer to this!

Your thoughts are so rapid and you’ve become so focused on looking for the car, that you only now notice your purse - the one Alicia lent you - sitting right in front of the pump she was parked at. So unsure you are of yourself and what’s going on at this point that you question if it’s not someone else’s or if it’s even real. You rush over to it, staring at it unblinkingly, afraid it might disappear like the car.

Alicia should have her phone on her – you just need to call her and you’ll have this all sorted out! You grab the purse and tear at the zipper, frustration mixing with trepidation as it sticks. Questions like “Why is your purse here?” and “Didn’t it used to be heavier?” take a backseat to your battle with the unyielding mechanism.

Finally, the zipper gives way and you peer inside...!