We sat outside the coffee shop, the air chill, crisp and biting in that unmistakable way that signalled Halloween was near. I tugged my sleeves down over my hands, trying to block out the cold creeping through my long sleeve jersey that hadChicago Bullswritten over it, but it was no use.
I was across from Blake, trying desperately not to let my gaze drop to his wrist, but it was impossible to ignore the gleaming watch that caught the light every time he moved. I glanced away quickly, pretending to be interested in the people rushing past in their jackets and scarves.
The plastic table between us wobbled slightly every time one of us shifted, the umbrella shed above us rustling softly in the breeze.
“So...what are you up to? You’ve been good?” he asked, clearly uncomfortable with the awkward silence.
“Yeah.” I forced out a chuckle. “Yeah, of course. Been good. You?” I asked, then shook my head. “Clearly, you’ve been doing well so...”
He blushed. Well, okay. He had every right to. Silence reigned for about a minute until he pointed inside.
“What was that earlier?”
“What? That man? Oh, just another weird day at work.”
“You work here?”
Are you blind?“No...no actually. I came here to help—”
“That’s great. Shocked for a sec there. Thought you work here. So what do you do? Did you come here for the holiday?”
I opened my mouth, speechless. He thought working here was worse? What would he say if I told him what I really did for a living?
Embarrassed, I laughed and deflected. “What’s up with you and Jane? Still together?”
“No. We parted three years ago. She’s married now.”
“That’s sad. You guys were inseparable in high school.”
“We were immature. What about you?” He stole a quick look at my body. “I see you are still the same. You even cut your hair. I almost didn’t recognise you.”
“Disappointing. I recognised you by your voice. It barely changed.”
We kept going back and forth, in circles, until we ran out of words and fell quiet again. He was right. I didn’t change. With loose jeans, oversized shirts, sneakers—that I wore frequently in high school but accidentally got used to as I grew up—I didn’t change. I’d trimmed my hair some months ago, and it was now an inch or two below my shoulders.
“Do you remember Theon?” I asked after a moment of silence. He’d been on my mind since yesterday night. I couldn’t sleep. I came to realise where I’d seen the locket after tossing and turning on my bed. It was his. He’d given me once in school, but I’d given him back two weeks after because I didn’t want it. To say I was shit scared last night would be an understatement.Fear had crept in first, then relief settled in after I was calm on my bed. He was alive. But how?
“Who? Theon? Theon Ryder?”
“Yeah. He was...dead, right?”
His brows pinched, like he was hearing it for the first time. “Dead? I thought he went missing three months before graduation.”
Oh, yeah. Right. I was the only one who thought he was dead because nobody else believed me.
“I mean...missing. He was missing.”
He relaxed. “Yeah, I remember him. He was the quiet asshole genius then. He barely talked.”
“Yeah.” I remembered.
“Always staring at you.”
My heart shifted.
“I wasn’t the only one who thought that guy ditched school, was I? I never really believed he went missing or those rumours flying around. That asshole never liked school even if he was a genius. He never liked anything at all. He was disinterested in parties, everything. Except you.”
The memory sank in, and the organ in my chest picked up.
