A sudden buzzing jolted her out of her thoughts. Her phone was ringing.
She pulled it from her pocket and saw it was from an unknown number. Probably some scammer. She tapped the icon to answer, fully prepared to rant at a bot for no other reason than to let off steam.
“What?” she said with a groan.
“Is that really how you answer a phone, Crypty?”
Willow nearly lost her grip as she registered who was on the other end. Landon.
“Uh, no. I assumed you were a bot. I was getting ready to complain at you.”
“I take it you’re home?”
“Yeah. Why’d you call my phone?” She wasn’t about to ask how he’d gotten her number. For people like them, finding someone’s phone number wasn’t exactly hard.
“Um…” He hesitated. “I’m in Lakeview.”
For the second time, she nearly dropped her phone, her heart hammering. He’d never done something like this, or at least he’d never told her before if he’d been to Lakeview.
She tried to get a hold of her voice. “W-why? Why are you here?”
“I know this is fucking weird, but can we meet somewhere in person to talk? Wherever you want.”
Her mouth gaped as she tried to summon an answer. She never thought she’d meet him in person. The entire time they’d been friends, he’d lived abroad. He had never so much as hinted at wanting to meet before.
“Uh, K-Shop. It’s a Korean convenience store.”
“I’ve heard of it. When?”
That was strange too, K-Shop was only in this town. It wasn’t a franchise or anything. “One hour. I just got home and need to change and stuff.”
“Okay, I’ll be there.”
“How will I know it’s you?” They had never video chatted or sent photos to each other.
“I’ll get the blue lemonade and sit next to the window. If you decide to bail, that’s fine. I’ll wait there for thirty extra minutes, and then I’ll leave for good. I’m not trying to freak you out.”
“I won’t bail,” she said, sure of that answer. Of course, she had been curious about her mysterious friend. Why wouldn’t she take the opportunity to meet him?
“See you then,” he replied and hung up.
Willow stared at her phone for a moment before saying to Stahma, “Our lives are so weird.”
***
Sure enough, he was sitting next to the plate-glass window with a blue lemonade pouch propped so whoever was outside could see it. He had sandy brown hair that had bleached from sun exposure and a reddish tinge to his tan. His claim to be in his mid-thirties appeared to be true, but it was hard to determine the age of this guy who looked like a beach bum in the gloomy Lakeview spring.
He hadn’t peered outside the entire time she’d spent staring at him through the window, but she had a feeling he knew she was there.
Willow entered the shop, and once the little bell chimed, she caught eyes with him. His expression was difficult to decipher, but maybe it was relief.
She quickly purchased an ice cup with a pouch of decaf black coffee and took the seat across from her long-time friend. While pouring the contents of the pouch, she observed, “So you aren’t secretly sixty years old with a beer gut.”
He snorted, sounding the same way as when they spoke over voice chat. “And neither are you.” His eyes scanned her, but it wasn’t in a creepy way. It was more like calculating.
“So, why are you here?”
“My sister was murdered by her husband.”
