Really, thunderstorms are so unnecessary. Especially when they aren’t much of a threat, but manage to draw out the worst panic attacks in people. Like the “Oh my God we’re going to die!” kind, or the “Quick, get inside!” kind of panic alarms. Either way, it’s still amusing and annoying to watch people scramble around as if a meteor was coming down without any warning.

I guess the reason resides in the fact that these sorts of frights occur in a shopping mall. With a ceiling practically made of glass. I suppose I can particularly understand their harried attempts at dodging for cover in the nearest store available.

Okay, and I guess I should say that this was probably the worst storm we’ve expected this season, and that this is a tropical storm we’re expecting. So . . . maybe it’s a possible threat.

Nonetheless, I didn’t see why people had to run around the mall, crying out for wayward children and shrieking at spouses so that they can either leave or find a safe place to stay. I mean, it was on the news this morning and it was their idea to be shopping here today. I had no choice.

I was on my break from working the cash register and was walking around the mall, watching the disarray as everything dissembled around me. As soon as the main intercom announced that the storm was coming in less than fifteen minutes, it was like Black Friday all over again.

I narrowly sidestepped a woman who was looking behind her back screaming at her three small children to quit fighting and hurry along. No sooner after that tiny escapade, I was walking my still aimless trek when a man suddenly bumped into me, spilling his coffee across my white work shirt. I winced as the cotton soaked up the hot and staining liquid and politely excused myself from his napkin-clutched hands suspiciously hovering close to my chest, assuring him that I had another shirt and quickly ushered him into the store we were in front of as someone announced that it was now an emergency for everyone to take cover.

I headed towards the elevator, hating the sticky feeling of the sugary coffee pushing past the threaded barrier and applying itself to my skin, making sure that despite replacing this shirt with a new one, I’d still reek of mocha hazelnut. I sighed and used the napkin I took from the man to remove most of the coffee as I stepped into the elevator. Mumbling incoherent curses, I gave up and threw the napkin on the ground when it was rendered useless, then pushed the button for the third floor. I sighed again at the ugly and big shape the stain claimed on my what used to be clean (and new!) shirt.

The elevator made its way up and I turned around and looked out the glass that the elevator was enclosed in, smiling a little at how fast the mall was clearing up. I was sure the stores were packed by now, and pretty soon the gates would be coming down, effectively locking the customers in. I wondered about how much shoplifting will be done today.

The elevator stopped as it ascended into the second floor and I heard someone step in, but I didn’t want to turn around and have whomever it was to see me and accuse me of sloppiness, because I was really the opposite. I just didn’t want to ruin what (if any) reputation I had by a stranger. So I kept my eyes out the window and looked on as the elevator started again.

As the elevator took what I seemed like one foot per minute to get up to my destination, I heard a throat clear behind me and I refocused my eyes on the glass so I could see the reflection of whoever it was behind me.

Then, when that proverbial thunderclap boomed overhead, everything stopped. Literally.

My heart, the power and consequentially, the elevator.

It took about two seconds afterwards for the chaos to commence. The mall was dark, and the mandatory screams could be heard as the real panic started sweeping over those left out in the open spaces. Everything seemed so rushed, but it all went disregarded as I stood here in the elevator, closing my eyes against the erratic cadence of my heart and the herded blood throughout my veins, increasing my body heat twice its normal temperature.

I should have known. Storms are always bad omens.

As I was trying to make my lungs resist hyperventilation, I didn’t hear the faint clearing of throat noise again, thus ignoring the person behind me until he actually spoke.

“Um, hey Liz.”

My eyes snapped open and for a second all I saw was black. As much as I wanted to crawl out of this situation, I realized that when the main and back-up generators shut down it meant that we were going to be stuck here for a while. I turned around held in my breath, willing my eyes to look up at the most wonderful looking man standing before me.

I squinted a little to make out the features on him, but even in the darkness he was prominent. He was smiling at me with an easiness I knew was effortless, and I wondered what it was about this guy that made me develop such a crush on him. And about every other girl he encounters, I’m sure. Sure, he was handsome and nice, but there had to be something else.

I smiled with quite a lot more effort than him for it to look easy. “Oh, hi Zeke.” Too bad my voice completely betrayed whatever impassiveness I was trying to exude.

His gaze flickered down to my shirt and I blushed; at least one good thing came out of the dark: my reddening face was hidden from him. I felt totally self-conscious and tugged at the hem of the shirt. Seriously. It was bad enough that his attention was drawn to a brown blotch on my shirt; it was worse that he’d have to stare at my non-existent chest as well.

When he raised his eyes at me again, I saw amusement in them and if I was not mistaken - since I can’t read people’s eyes on a highly skilled level - I thought I saw a flash of sympathy. But his smile said otherwise, and if I had enough guts to injure myself and most likely get killed, I would’ve jumped through the glass.

I stayed put.

“I see there’s a new trend now.”

I laughed awkwardly and waved my hand in front of my shirt. “Yeah well, if running into a cup of hot coffee is going to be a fashion statement, then more power to those who are idiotic enough to do so.”

Zeke laughed and the lines around his eyes crinkled, his gaze and laugh effectively turning my knees to bone mush. “Sorry about your shirt.”

I shrugged and gave a half-smile. “I’ve got another.”

Ah, and so ensues the horrible and uncomfortable silence between us. I cleared my throat and turned back to the window, looking out as flashlights beamed across the areas and listening to the shouts of the crowd as well as the shouts of the guards as they tried to make some sense out of everything. Psch, I was still trying to make sense in here.

“Wow. It’s really a mess out there,” Zeke said from somewhere behind me and I nodded. “And it looks like we’re stuck in here alone together as well.”

I frowned and swallowed my anguish, pushing it down against the constricting of my throat. I turned to look at him and gave an apologetic smile. “Sorry.”

He smiled again and my lungs were beginning to become insurgents against my orders of resistance. Why is it so hard to control my own body around Zeke? Because this is outright ridiculous. I’m a grown woman. Grown women aren’t supposed to act like giddy high school girls in front of their crushes. Sans the giddy part, of course.

“Liz, do you honestly think I’d be horrified to be trapped in an elevator for a long while with you?” I just stared at him and he shook his head. “You should know that I’m not horrified. Never with you.”

My mouth, which was presently formed as if someone stuck a golf ball between my lips, only managed a squeaky and pathetic, “Oh.” I blinked and blushed, smiling faintly. “I mean, that’s uh, that’s good to know. And you should know that I’m never horrified to be around you either.” I sounded like a loser, I was sure of it.

“Really?” I had turned back around to hide my red face but looked back over my shoulder when I heard shuffling around, and found Zeke on the ground, stretching his slack-covered long legs out in front of him. He was looking at me with seriousness unlike the light I saw earlier in his eyes. When I frowned he shrugged and tilted his head slightly. “‘Cause you seem kind of flustered to be in the same room as me.”

I sighed and let out a strangled breath at the same time, turning around completely and copied Zeke’s actions so that I was sitting against the glass and at eye-level with him. I crossed my legs and played with the laces on my loafers. I realized that even though I couldn’t ignore the blatant infatuation I had for Zeke, there wasn’t a reason why I couldn’t sit here with him and at least get to know him better. It wasn’t like he knew how I felt, anyway.

I looked up at him and the look in his brown eyes was enough to cause a hitch in my breath. How long he’s been staring at me, I didn’t know, but it was still unnerving. I blinked and looked away from him, back to my now entwined hands.

“How do you do it?” I finally asked after a long while of torturing silence.

Zeke turned his eyes towards me, searching them in the darkness with a questioning gaze. “Do what?”

With as much confidence as it took for me to even ask the question, ignited by my frustration, I couldn’t help when I bit my lip nervously. But I had to know. I had to get down to the core of this silliness. “Okay, this question is coming from a completely unbiased and detached female who observes too many things for her own good, but really Zeke, how do you find it so easy to gather up all this . . . charm and niceness and have twenty girls running after you day after day?” I knew that I was lying when I said I was unbiased and detached, but it would call for a less awkward answer from him.

I expected to earn maybe a smug smile from him, but I was shocked to hear him stammering a bit and through the dimming light, I saw a rise of color on his cheeks. Who knew that this heartthrob was such a bashful guy?

“Um . . .” He cleared his throat and shifted on the floor before continuing with a more controlled voice. I was just sitting there, baffled by all this. “Twenty?” He chuckled. “I haven’t noticed. And to answer your question, Liz, I didn’t know I charm so many girls. Unbiased and detached, huh?” He looked at me with a smirk ghosting around his darned appealing mouth. I desperately kept the indifferent expression on my face, even though my mind was scrambling for a logical answer.

“Well, I mean . . . uh . . . I uh, I—I am,” I said at last. At his lazy smile, I scowled and pointed a finger at him. “Do you see me chasing after you throughout the mall?”

“You don’t really move from the cash register,” he said offhandedly and my brain swerved.

“What?”

“Can I ask you a question?” I nodded, my voice proven ineffective. “Do you see me when I pass by your store everyday?”

“You do?”

He looked away for a moment and chuckled sheepishly. “I thought that you’d at least notice by now.”

That was a total lie. I actually did notice that Zeke passed by my store most days. But I never looked up just in case he caught me gawking at him for those quick seven seconds it takes him to cross my eyesight. I had always assumed that he just passed by the store because it was on the way to wherever he went to on his breaks.

I cleared my throat and glanced at him suspiciously. “Why in the world would you want me to notice you walking past?”

Zeke smiled and countered, “Do you know how hard it is getting your attention?”

“Who’s trying to attain it?”

“Well,” he said and suddenly was up, walking back and forth in the four feet offered to us. “Isn’t it kind of obvious?” At my dazed stare, he stopped and leaned against the elevator doors and his mouth hitched in a small smile. “You’re making me do this the hard way, huh? Let’s hope my confidence doesn’t get wounded, ruptured as it is already.”

My brain snapped out of its stupor at his words and I jumped to my feet, placing my hands on my hips. “Wait, wait, wait. You're telling me that you have to do God knows what the hard way? What in the world could you do that takes difficulty regarding me? Seriously Zeke, as flattering as it is to know that you, for some crazy reason, want me to notice you walking by—which by the way I do—you’re making no sense at all!”

The waning darkness didn’t drown the sparkle in his eyes from shining as his smile broadened. “Unbiased and detached?” he asked again and all bouts of confidence I had from that little tirade quickly swept out from under me as a tide of blood rushed up my neck. “Funny that a girl who’s unbiased and detached would notice me walking past her store.”

I was left astonished and embarrassed; thus, I kept my mouth shut.

“Liz,” he called out softly and I looked up at the sincerity his voice held. “I like you.”

My eyes widened and I opened my mouth only to close it, not knowing how to react. Did his brain black out as well or something? Or is the thunder roaring too loud that it's making me hear things?

I noticed vainly that Zeke was starting to become flustered with my silence and he took the few steps forward until he was standing in front of me. I was busy trying to calm my breathing, or at least quiet it down somewhat. Even though his lips were set in a straight line, his eyes were still shining down at me.

“I’m sorry if this is a lot coming at you, Liz. But I never had the chance, or courage really, to just come up to you and say it. I actually had a break the same time as you today, and I just kind of followed you, hoping that you would stop somewhere so that I could talk to you,” he said and I saw his mouth lose its hardness. And then I chastised myself for staring so long at his mouth, the impulse to kiss it into a smile coming on strong.

“And when you came in here, I knew that this was my chance. I was actually going to stop the elevator myself, but I guess the storm beat me to it.” He laughed lightly and I blinked. “I um, I just wanted to let you know. Having a crush on someone weighs down on your mind.”

I still wasn’t saying a word and I was looking to the side, so Zeke took it as a sign of defeat and backed away from me slowly. I stopped him though as I put my hand lightly on his forearm. I looked up into his questioning eyes.

“You like me?” I finally asked and Zeke nodded, peering at me curiously.

When I laughed, I knew I had alarmed him and I covered my mouth against my giggles. “Sorry. It’s just . . . you like me!” His frown was now evident and I let out a shaky breath, pushing my hair away from my face.

“I shouldn’t have said anything. It’s ju—”

“It was right that you did. Otherwise I wouldn’t have had the courage to tell you myself,” I said slowly and quietly, my laughter gone and shyness ebbing its way in again.

Zeke had caught on by now—I knew didn’t like him just because he was good-looking—but he didn’t make this go easier. “Tell me what?”

I sighed and pulled at the hem of my shirt, scowling at the stain. “That I’m a liar.”

“How so?”

I bit my lip and refused to look up at him. “Okay, so I’m actually a biased and attached girl when it comes to you.”

“So . . . you like me?” I could hear his smile.

I scowled up at him. “Do I have to spell it out?”

He shrugged, his smile still in place, which I adored more and more. “No, but it would be nice to hear it out of your mouth.”

I sighed and looked down. “God, you're making me do this the hard way. I like you, Zeke. Quite a lot, actually,” I said quietly.

His eyes were gleaming and I caught myself falling into his winning smile.

“Biased and attached, huh?” he asked.

I grinned. “Very much so.”

He chuckled and I refrained from swooning at the way it felt.

“Well then, that makes two of us.”