Trailing Stars (Trailing Stars #1)

Chapter 1

The last text my twin brother ever sent me was Do you mind turning on the light? I never replied, but the answer was: Yes, I do mind. I don't know if the answer would be different now if he asked again. I like to think that it is, but I know I'll never get the opportunity to tell him that.

A notification pops up on top of my screen, covering Morgan's name and contact picture. It's my older sister. At least that's one sibling I can still respond to.

Hannah: Where are you right now?

Me: Poems and Tales.

Poems and Tales is a poetry café. I always come here after school when I don't want to head straight to Hannah's house which is pretty much every single day. It's always nicer to have some time to myself away from everyone I know before I have to go back to my life.

Being at this café makes the rest of the world seem so distant. The lighting from the wall sconces and recessed ceiling lights is always a low, warm yellow glow, bringing out the coziness of the wooden floors and cream-colored walls. The chatter is always barely above a murmur even when the tables are fairly close together. Best of all, people tend to leave me alone, and I can be with my thoughts.

Except when my sister texts to tell me to come home.

Hannah: When do you think you'll be home?

Me: When do you need me to come home?

Hannah: Mom, Dad, and Kate aren't coming until 5, so be back by then.

Me: Got it.

I turn off my screen and sit back with a sigh. Right. My parents and little sister are coming to stay with me and Hannah for winter break. Should be fun to see everyone again. Except it's not everyone. Morgan won't be here for the holidays for the first time.

I swallow, reaching for my phone to open up our text thread again when someone calls my name. I glance around, already plastering a smile on my face in case it's someone I know. It takes me a second to realize that it's not. It's the barista with my hot chocolate. The only reason why it took me a second to figure that out is that she goes back to arguing with some guy sitting on the other side of the counter. I think they do this all the time. It's basically background noise at this point.

I swipe my phone off the table and walk toward them. I try not to stare too much, but it's always hard to mind your own business when you get close to people that are causing a scene. I should know since I've caused scenes before.

The girl jabs her finger at the guy, causing him to arch an eyebrow. Every time she gestures—which is a lot—her curly dark brown hair swishes around her. Compared to her, the boy is completely motionless except for the occasional eye roll or arching eyebrow.

I try to grab my drink and slip away, but the barista looks right at me, her light brown eyes freezing me on the spot. "Mona, right?" I nod, clutching my drink a little closer to my chest. "What are your thoughts on poems?"

I glance between her and the guy, but neither of them gives me any context. Is this what they argue about all the time? If they do, I'm not sure who's on what side of the argument. And I don't know whose side I'd rather be on. The girl seems nice enough, but I'm pretty sure she can bulldoze anyone with just one look with her piercing brown eyes if brown eyes can even be described as piercing. The guy looks the exact opposite with his golden brown hair and gray eyes that are somehow not piercing. I have a weird urge to not say anything that might hurt him.

In the end, I give my honest answer: "I think poetry can be okay."

The guy flashes me a grin while the girl groans. He hits her lightly in the arm. "Told you."