VANISHED (#1 in the VANISHED series) #NaNoWriMo2019 ✔

t w o ✔✔

"Ugh, what a dick." Stella sipped on her mocaccino, flipping her platinum mane behind her as the barista—a guy she'd had her eye on for months—slipped by. "But you," she leaned closer to the table, keeping her gaze on her crush, "insisted?"

Arielle bit her lip and glanced into her drink. "Well, I... I tried. But the look he gave me... and the way he said ghost-hunting equipment... it discouraged me." She recalled the air-quotes and the disdainful demeanor, and shivered. "I ran out of there, thinking of Jade, of how disappointed she'd be..."

Stella finally flipped her rich chocolate gaze to Arielle. "Oh, honey." She cocked her head. "She wouldn't be disappointed. And I'm not, either, I promise." She rolled her shoulders and peeked at her crush for a second before returning to Arielle. "At least the hotels are booked and we've got the car. Your dad gave you the okay, right? He agreed to let you take it? He gave it the green light? Because let's be real, that thing is—"

"—trash, yeah, yeah." Arielle swept her fingers across the table's surface, recalling her dad's inspection of the car. He was a mechanic, and if anyone could confirm her beat-up piece of junk would survive a trek south, he was the one. And he'd declared the vehicle good to go, thumbs-up and all.

She didn't like the idea of leaving him alone for two weeks; not with all that had happened in the past few years. Not with all that could go wrong in her absence. They'd lost so much in so little time, and she feared that if she left... they might lose each other.

Wrapping her hands around the hot mug, she trembled. Death seemed to follow Arielle like a shadow, haunting her, but never claiming her; no, instead, it constantly threatened those around her. A decade or so ago, her mother's heart had stopped, though she never had health problems. A year later, her older brother smacked his head on the pavement while skateboarding, and no one ever figured out if he was beaten up, if he'd been mugged, if he'd tripped, been raped, or if his predicament was simply back luck. And in her last semester of Junior High, before moving to Ohio, her best friend collapsed in class, seized, lost consciousness... and never woke up.

So if she took off for a while, would her father be there when she returned? Or would death be waiting to sweep in and steal him in some freakish accident that she'd never understand?

She glared into her half-empty cup. "I need more coffee. And sugar. Lots of sugar to wake me the fuck up."

Stella snorted. "I wish I could have some, but if I gain one more pound, Mom's doctor is going to cut me to pieces. I'm, like," she grabbed at her stomach, "three hundred pounds already."

"Stella!" Arielle almost knocked her mug over as she reached across the table and yanked Stella's fingers from her gut, where she'd been tugging at her fat. "You do not weigh three-hundred pounds, stop it!"

Stella shrugged and giggled, as was her norm, batting her lashes and appearing so unaffected, one would think she didn't care. But she did. "Eh, close enough. I'm two-hundred, apparently. Hey! Another hundred and maybe that guy will notice me!" She jerked her chin towards the barista and groaned.

"Seriously, stop it. First off, he has noticed you, goof. He never quits looking at you. Every time we come in here he gets all tongue-tied. And you want to know why? Because you're gorgeous. And your mom needs to cut you some slack, for real."

Jade was better at this... at reassuring, encouraging.

Stella had struggled with her health for as long as Arielle knew her, but one would never guess it affected her. Her curves were voluptuous, exquisite, and she wore them with pride. Every outfit she sported, every exotic head-piece she deposited on her shiny bleach-blonde curls, every new nail-art trend she tried only highlighted the fact that Stella was a knock-out. And her track-record showed it. She'd had dates and nighttime adventures with more men than Arielle and Jade combined.