Chasing Ellie

29. Stakeout

Ellie Hope

"So why this coffee shop?" Laurel asks as we sit at a table beside the windows that over look the street.

I shrug my shoulder, "why not this coffee shop?"

Laurel almost smiles, tugging at the cuffs of her long sleeves. I definitely have a reason for this particular coffee shop.

I've been doing some digging. Specifically on my parents, the biological ones. After I scoured the internet for the nurse, Tammy and came up relatively empty handed I switched to them. AJ and Diana.

It required me to do some very sneaky peaking around my mom and mama's office. But after weeks and weeks of sneaking in and going through drawers and files and stacks of paper I found more. More than just a photograph of a nurse and two first names.

I found a last name, Fowler.

Which of course sent me creeping along the internet in search of a woman named Diana Fowler.

And it led me to a woman who fits the age range and lives in the next town over coincidentally enough. So naturally I roped Laurel into scouting except Laurel doesn't know that's what we're doing.

This coffee shop is something Diana Fowler tagged in a recent post on her page and even though I highly doubt I'll bump into her I had to check it out.

The easiest way to do that was to have a friend bring me. How would I possible explain to my mom or mama why I had to go to a coffee shop in a different town when we have a perfect fine coffee shop just down the road from my school.

So here we are.

Laurel shrugs her shoulders, not having a rebuttal of any sort because really, all coffee shops need love. The near ones and the far ones. I don't discriminate.

"So how's things with Wes." I can't help the teasing tone that infiltrated my voice.

This time Laurel laughs, her face flushing slightly as she plays with her cup in her hand.

"Fine. Good."

I roll my eyes. "Fine and good will not do, I want details."

She squirms in her seat, fingers picking at the lid to her coffee as she grins. And that is all I need to know.

"Has he kissed you?" I press on.

The coffee shop has a quiet murmur of activity as machines whir to blend fancy drinks and customers filter in and out. The staff taking orders and calling names as they move about. Some indie rock station playing on the radio and I can totally vibe with it all. It also makes me hope that Diana Fowler vibes with it too. Maybe we're alike. Maybe even though we haven't influenced each other our genetics run so deep we can't help but have similarities that go beyond the physical.

Laurel bites her lip, her blue eyes finding mine and all there is utter happiness.

"Oh my god he did!" I shout it too loud, I realize that the moment it leaves my mouth but I can't take it back.

Laurel shushes me, her finger flying up to her lips as her eyes go wide. As if someone we know would actually be here. Like her kissing Wes needs to be a secret. We've all just been waiting for it to happen.

"I'm so happy!" I clap my hands together, bouncing like a little kid at Christmas in my seat. "You guys are so cute."

"Shut up." But she's grinning, face a flame but I can hear the giddiness in her voice.

"So then what? It's official? You're together?" Her grin doesn't let up even though she shakes her head no. "What? Why not? What's taking him so long?"

"I don't want a label." Laurel says. "Labels are stupid anyway. Wes said he doesn't care."

Her strawberry blond hair falls from her shoulder and she rakes it back before taking a sip of her drink.

Yes in a way labels are stupid. Like labeling people's sexual orientation, who cares. Or labeling all of Wes' acronyms, once again who cares. Wes is Wes and Brett loves James. Their labels that society wants to slap on their foreheads really aren't that important. But relationship status ones, they seem important. How else are you to know if someone is available or not?

Like I'm single and potentially ready to mingle if I could meet someone that isn't a complete drag.

Or Brett, definitely taken. Completely unavailable. Not that I'm his type.

But Wes, is he single, is he not? No one really knows if they don't label it.

"Why wouldn't you want people to know he's your boyfriend?"

I watch a man and woman pass by, his hand on the small of her back, claiming her as his.

"My last relationship was all about labels." Laurel offers up. "It didn't end well."

My focus shifts back to her with this little detail floating in the space between us. From what I found online, I didn't think her ex Mason looked like the kind of soft hearted soul that Wes is. And even though she didn't say she was referring to Mason, I go ahead and connect the dots in my head.

"What happened?" Curiosity always gets me and I try to hide my eagerness for new information as I take a drink.

I just like to know. It's not like I'd do anything with the information.

She hesitates though, all the happiness has drained from her. She looks smaller as her shoulders sag and less confident as she stares at her drink and loses the Laurel that I'm used to. She morphs right in front of my eyes to this timid and insecure version of herself.

I wish I knew her ex, I wish knew all the things that came before Laurel's and my friendship so I could have been there for her. Maybe even protected her from some of it.

"He accused me of cheating on him. And then slept with one of my best friends." She says it quietly but there's still hurt clinging to her words.

"What an asshole." I bark. "Whats his name? I'll go beat him up."

I'm one hundred percent serious in my offer but Laurel laughs. She's probably laughing at little old me taking on Mason, I saw a picture of him. He looks about as friendly as a scorpion waiting to strike.

"That's not necessary." She declines. "Besides, it's in the past."

But something about the way she says it doesn't have me completely convinced. Maybe their relationship is in the past, but something is still lingering. She's lacking that overall conviction and confidence someone has when they know something to be absolutely true.

I decide to drop it for the time being, switching the topic to Brett and James as I watch all the passerby's on the street hoping I catch sight of a familiar face I've never seen before.

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Mornings are hard.