Loser || WlW

Fifteen

"Hey." Her voice is soft as she lets the rag drop to the counter and wipes her hands on the front of her apron. Her hair is pulled into a loose bun, fallen strands tucked behind her ears. My eyes are glued to her, trying to read every micro-movement her features make.

"Um, hi." I can feel my face turning darker shades of red by the second.

"How have you been?" she asks.

I didn't expect her to be kind to me. I expected sadness, anger, anything but kindness.

Guilt settles in my chest.

"I'm fine." I scratch the back of my head. "Hey, I'm sorry..." I swallow the lump in my throat. "About everything."

Grace's lips pull into the same teasing smile she had on our first date. If you could call it a date. "You mean when you ignored me for three weeks?" She raises an eyebrow and crosses her arms over her chest.

"I –"

"So, what happened? Did you hate my tea that much?" She smirks and leans against the counter, her arms still hanging loosely across her chest.

I smile. "It had more to do with the police handcuffing me and putting me in the back of their cruiser."

She shrugs and grabs the rag off the counter. "I thought it was going well."

"I was arrested."

She shrugs again. "Everyone has shit to deal with."

"Yeah." I take a deep breath. "Yeah, I guess." I let a moment of silence pass before I point my thumb over my shoulder and take a step back. "I'll let you finish your shift. I just wanted to apologize."

"I can give you a ride home." She glances at me from under her eyelashes as she continues wiping the counter. "I'm off in like," she looks up at the clock above an espresso machine, "three minutes."

I swallow hard and shove my hands into my pockets. "You're sure?"

She raises an eyebrow at me; doesn't respond.

"I could be a murderer, you know?" A nervous chuckle escapes my lips.

"I'll take my chances." She flicks her chin toward the door. "Come on. I'll lock up."

Grace locks the door and I follow her to the back of the parking lot where a black sedan sits. We slide in and sit in silence for a second too long. I can feel my heart pounding through my chest as I force myself to make eye contact with her.

"You seem nervous again." She turns the key in the ignition. A shallow feeling makes its home in my chest as I think about my car and where it might be. If Claire's dead body is in it or if it's going to tie me to her murder.

"I am," I admit. Being around her makes my walls collapse. "When I'm around you, I can't figure out who I am."

She pulls to a stop at a red light and looks at me.

"I'm a huge loser at school." I shake my head. "Everyone knows it. But you don't treat me like a loser so I have to think about every sentence that comes out of my mouth because I'm scared I'll mess up and you'll think I'm a loser too."

Grace's eyebrows pull together. She reaches over and squeezes my shoulder.

My heart jumps into my throat.

"You think too much. Just be you," she says and makes another right. She's been making a large version of a circle since I never gave her directions to my house.

"That's the issue. I feel like my whole personality is centered around other people treating me like shit." I let out a small laugh. "Make a left here." I point.

She does. "Maybe you should hang out with some new people." She arches an eyebrow at me.

"And a right at the second stop sign."

She comes to a stop at the next red light and faces me. "Would you want to come to a party with me tomorrow night? Nine o clock?"

I open my mouth to say something, but nothing comes out.

Her eyes flick from my lips to my eyes as she tries to read my expression.

"Yeah." I attempt to balance my tone between excited but not too excited. "Yeah, I'd love to."

She faces the steering wheel again and accelerates. "Cool. It's just your typical house party. Beer pong, weed, college students." She shrugs. "You can bring someone if it'll make you feel more comfortable."

My heart plummets into my stomach. Not a date. "Oh, um. Yeah." I force a smile.

"You don't have to, Jordan. Don't overthink it."

I point at the gas station on the right. "You can drop me off here."

She sighs. "You know I'm not going to murder you in your sleep if you let me drop you off at your house, right?"

We both laugh.

"I could use the fresh air." I smile. I'd also rather die than let Grace see the neighborhood I live in. She pulls alongside a gas pump and puts the car in park before looking at me.

"Will you text me when you get home? So, I know you're safe?" she asks and butterflies flutter in my stomach.

"Okay." My cheeks hurt from the too-big smile plastered to my face.

In the dim light, I could swear Grace blushes but it's too dark to know for sure. "Send me your address. I'll pick you up tomorrow." Grace winks.

I don't want to get out of the car. I could spend the rest of the night talking to her.

She faces me, her eyes lingering on my lips.

"I'll see you tomorrow." She smiles. "Unless you decide to ignore me for a couple more years."

I roll my eyes. "I'll text you." I return the smile and get out of her car before I manage to screw something up.

The light purr of her engine revs behind me as I start toward the house. I wave goodbye to Grace and pull my phone from my pocket. My dad would kill me if he knew I was walking home alone after dark.

There's a text from an unknown number. I click it open, pull my backpack tighter with my free hand.

Meet me at the Motel 6 on Central Ave. Room 7. Tomorrow at 9 pm. Trust me, don't bring anyone with you.

I stop walking and glance down the empty street. Every shadow looks like a person, ready to jump out and murder me.

Who is this?

It's like someone was listening to my conversation with Grace. What are the odds they want to meet at the same time as the party?

I swallow hard and glance over my shoulder once more before speed walking to my neighborhood. No danger here besides the guys selling drugs on the corner.

Another ding echoes from my pocket. I jump; almost throw the phone.

I know everything you need to know about Claire's death.