I'm writing this with my best friend, SoffyWaffles17. We started this about eight months ago,...
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After texting Beck, I run into the hospital room and tell Mom that I was heading out for a bit to get some air. She says sure, that it would be good to have time to ‘chill’. Her words, not mine.
I rush outside, happy to be able to finally get out of there. I still don’t know what I’m doing. Why? WHY? Why am I letting this escalate?
I took my time as I walked to Denny’s, until I got a text from Beck, saying “When r u gonna be here?” I check the time. 12:01. Past midnight by a minute. Then, to text Beck back, I look at the last text I sent him. I sent it at 11:30.
Oops. I told Beck that I’d be at Denny’s in ten minutes. And that was thirty- no, wait- thirty one minutes ago. I pick up my pace to a partial sprint, and when I finally reach Denny’s, no one was in sight.
The red lights on the window blink Open 24/7. I march inside, hands in my pockets. I read a sign that says, Please Wait to Be Seated. I wait to be seated.
While I’m waiting, I check my phone again, for any texts that I might have missed. I even poke my head outside, but the only thing I see is the lonely gray sidewalk and the occasional passing car.
Finally, after a while, when I come back inside, a heavyset older lady waitress with white hair asks me, “Table for one?”
“I guess so,” I reply.
But she leads me to a booth anyways.
White Hair walks away, and another, younger looking lady comes over, a three year old hanging on her leg.
“What would you like sweetie?” she asks in that voice that tells you that she is nice, but very tired. I think for a second. Should I wait? Beck’s not here yet, obviously. I decide to just get a drink for now.
“Just a hot chocolate for now, with extra whipped cream,” I tell her. I wait a bit while she gets my drink. When she comes back ten minutes later with my hot chocolate, Beck is still a no show. Maybe it’s for the best, but…. despite myself, I still wanted to see him.
So where is he?
“I need you to explain to me. You orders were clear. Ten minutes, this alley. WHY didn’t you bring her to me, like I asked?! Damn it, Beck! Why can’t you just follow orders?” Lucas asks me angrily. I sigh. I don’t want to lose my job, but I just know that Lizzie’s innocent, that she isn’t one of them.
“She isn’t one of them, I’m telling you! She’s too kind.” I insist, and then Lucas’s face takes on an angry expression.
“I don’t care what you think!” Lucas nearly screams. “I will interrogate her, I will decide if she is one of them, and I will terminate her if she is. No questions asked!” His face is now an angry tomato color, which clashes horribly with his T-Shirt, and I’m afraid his head just might explode. He takes a menacing step closer, right up in my face, and stares me in the eye.
“If you don’t bring her to me, I will get her.” he threatens. “And if she’s not one of them, I will use the memory stick and ship her away from Oregon. So we can do this two ways. The easy way, or the hard way. If you don’t bring her to me by one, you’re fired. And then I’ll use the memory stick on you.” My face pales, and with that, Lucas disappears into the shadows. Great. I really made him mad now. And if I got fired now, they would just use Kat, and if she became an agent, she’d die in the first few days. I mean, Kat’s a tough little ten-year-old, but she is no match for, like, a werewulv, or a troll, or something. I sigh again and head to Denny’s.
As I take last my last sip of cocoa with no one sitting across from me (like Beck), I stand and go to the doors. It was for the best. I’m in way over my head. I shouldn’t be doing this, anyways.
“Sweetie! Sweetheart!” someone yells. “You forgot to pay!”
I smack my forehead and spin around. “Sorry,” I say, “I didn’t mean to. I just-“
“Mm-hum!” White Hair says.
Fine, I thought, be that way. One second she was calling me sweetheart, and the next she’s acting like I’m some snooty teen.
Well, mm-hum to you too!
I pull out some money from my pocket and hand it to White Hair. I turn and walk out the doors. I walk quickly down the sidewalk because the first chill of winter is starting to set in, and already I can see my breath in the air. When I try to turn the corner, I have to stop in mid-step, almost running into someone.
“Hey,” he says.
I look down at my feet. “Hi,”
“What’s up?” he asks.
I sigh, a deep one layered with all kinds of bored-ness and weary-ness. “I was just waiting, for, you know, like an hour and a half.”
“Sorry about that. I-“
“No. You texted me at midnight asking where I was, when I should have been asking you that. Now it’s 1:15 and I’m leaving,” I say.
“Damn it. It’s 1:15?” I hear him whisper.
“Um, yeah,” I tell him, turning back to him.
“Lizzie, I need you to do something for me,”