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A Short Story : A Story?

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“Hi, ma’am. Do you need a hand?” a deep voice said.
Caroline couldn’t see anything but the blinding headlights, but she heard a car door open and close, followed by heavy footsteps.
“Um, no thank you. I just called my friend to come pick me up, so I’m good,” Caroline said as she shielded her eyes and tried to inch towards her front seat.
“Oh, c’mon. It’s late. No need to bother your friend at this time of night. I’ve changed plenty of tires in my life. My dad actually worked on cars, so I grew up doing this kind of stuff. I’ll just go pop your trunk to get your spare out and we’ll get you back on your way,” he said as he breezed past her and opened her driver’s side door. He reached down and pressed the button to pop the trunk with no hesitation, despite having a completely different car.
“No, it’s really okay. I think I’m just going to wait in my car. I’ll be okay. Thank you though!”
“Too late. Already helping you. It’s my good deed for today,” he said standing up and walking towards her near the back of her car, smirking. “I see you go to State,” he said motioning at her back window. “I went there for a year or so and loved it. I got kicked out for a little…misunderstanding though, but I still keep up with them. Good choice. I’m Aaron, by the way.” “Nice to meet you. It’s really fine though.” She watched him pass by her and reach her trunk. Panic seized her immediately. No, it couldn’t be him. No, it had to be. Who else in the world owned a god awful gray suit like

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