(a.n // i will be publishing two chapters today, so make sure you check back again for the second update<3 )
CHAPTER FOURTEEN: OPTIMISM
I find out from the papers.
Vaughn's stepmother - though I can't recall him ever referring to Katelynn like that - is dead at the hands of whoever is running around killing blondes. It was strangulation this time, with some sort of rope, cord, or wire, and the multiple theories regarding the killer are all I seem to hear about these days. She was found in a relatively safe area, but it happened at night, which seems to be the recurring theme with all of the attacks.
The headline refers to Vaughn's father as a millionaire. And I have to say, I really did not see that one coming. At all.
"Miss! Refill on the coffee," an older man gives a shout a few tables away from where I currently stand taking an order. I try to give what I hope is a convincing smile and nod before focusing my attention back on the table in front of me. It's a little past noon, and my shift at Freed's for today is nearly over. I'll have a little time to myself before heading over to the bank.
By the time all three tables seem taken care of, I head back to the bar, where Tommy is wiping down the countertop. When we were at the cabin, I saw that he has scars on his upper arms. I've noticed he tries his best to hide them, so I don't ask about it. Whatever it was, though, had to have been rough given how long and deep the cuts were.
I contemplate asking him for advice on whether or not I should go see Vaughn, but instead, I just decide to send him a text. Or should I call him? Would a text seem too impersonal? But then again, it's not like Vaughn knew Katelynn for very long, and from what Tommy told me, he didn't even like her.
I sigh, closing my eyes and resting my head down on the palm of my right hand. I'll just text him. And I'll text Siara too.
Siara, who has, as Tommy tells me, temporarily dyed her hair darker again, regardless of Zeke around or not. Tommy himself still has the light hair, though. When I asked him why he wasn't worried about getting attacked, he just shrugged and made a comment about how the chances of it happening are still low.
Malee keeps trying to pressure Darren to dye his hair, but he doesn't want to, either. He's a lot like Tommy, I think.
The two of them are my closest friends, and while I see Malee every day, it's rare to go more than a couple of days without Darren talking or hanging out with us, too.
It's been a while since I've talked to Vaughn.
The last time I saw him was when I ran into him at the grocery store a few days ago. I had been shopping with Malee and Darren when I went off by myself to grab some orange juice, and there he was. He seemed caught off guard as well when he finally turned around and saw me. But, after the initial surprise, he smiled and we said hello. And then Darren appeared and slid his arm around my shoulder, and the next thing I knew Vaughn was saying it was nice to see me but he had to go.
Oh, God, what am I even going to say in the text?
Wait...or should I send him a sympathy card?
Or is that too...I don't know?
I rub my eyes before I stand up to go check on one of the tables. Lately I've been struggling with figuring out how being an adult works, when I'm going to college, and what I'll study. And dealing with customers certainly doesn't help with the stress.
It's too late to submit an application to the University of Alaska Southeast, and to be honest, even if it wasn't, I'm not sure I'd want to go there. I still have no idea what I want to do yet. So, for now, I'm just going to continue working my two jobs - I got another job as a bank teller - and hope that by next year I'll have finally gotten my act together and made a plan for the future.
I felt so sick and nervous when I actually got the job at the bank, and I kept panicking over the fact that now I had two jobs that involve working with a lot of people. A year ago, I would have been shocked to see myself now. It's crazy how much someone can grow and change in even a year.
Fifteen or so minutes later, the door to the bar opens as my shift ends, and I look over to see Jasmine, of all people, stepping inside. I'm a bit caught off guard, as I haven't seen her since the cabin, but Tommy immediately grins and waves her over.
She, like the time before, looks flawless. Manicured nails, this time decorated with cute painted frogs, and she's wearing her hair with a matching green claw clip. Her outfit is a professional and pretty black dress paired with a cute black and white cardigan and black heels. Her sharp but not over-the-top eyeliner accentuates her eyes and long eyelashes, and her lip gloss is a soft and subtle pink.
I watch as she nears the bar, turning the heads of more than one table, and feel my heart stop as her careful gaze slides from Tommy to me.
And now all I'm aware of is my messy makeup, wrinkled outfit, and peeling nail cuticles. I did not need this today.
Oh, stop, the better part of me tells the insecure part of myself. You don't even know her. You've hung out with her once-
And she intimidated me and gave me judgy looks the entire time.
Maybe she didn't mean to or she felt she had a good reason. Are you really the type of person to give someone one chance and determine if you like them based on that one experience?
Isn't that what a first impression is?
One day is not enough time to get to know someone. Now who's the one being judgy?
"Hello, Mikaere," she says, like she can read my mind - and she just might actually be able to. Who knows?
"Oh, um- Hi. Hi, Jasmine. How are you?" I know you can read my mind, I think.
She smiles, slow and sweet, and razor-sharp. The image of a tiger lounging from a tree limb, watching down as its prey walks right below it enters my mind. "I'm doing fairly well, given the circumstances. And you?"
"Yeah, I'm doing alright, too, I guess."
I start to glance away, expecting she'll turn to Tommy again now that the formalities are over, but instead, she turns to face me directly. Right after, I begin to panic internally, careful to seem normal on the outside. I think. I hope?
Why are you so intimidated by this woman?
I don't know. Maybe because she's cool and pretty and accomplished. Maybe because she's known Vaughn and his friend circle for so long and I know nothing about them compared to her and that's intimidating. Maybe because when I look at her I see everything I'm afraid I'll never be.
"Do you have a break soon? I was wondering if you'd like to go for lunch at the coffee shop with me."
...Huh?
What?
What is this all about? First, she's giving me and Vaughn looks, and now she's inviting me to grab a sandwich and coffee with her?
I manage to keep my jaw from falling to the floor in surprise, but I'm quite certain by the slight cool amusement in her eyes, that I still revealed my shock in some way.
"Oh, I- ... Yeah, my shift actually just ended. I have some time to go to lunch," I answer. Because while I may be entirely nervous about talking to her alone, my curiosity over why the heck she's inviting me to lunch in the first place wins out.
She nods, "Lovely." Then, she turns to Tommy.
Tommy, who I now realize has been watching us converse, looking both equally confused and amused. His fingers drum repetitively on the bar top - pointer, middle, ring, pinkie over and over rhythmically.
"What, you don't like our food?" He grins good-naturedly. He doesn't stop tapping.
"You know your wraps are my favorite," she states smoothly then pauses and purses her lips in thought. "Your coffee simply leaves...something to be desired."
He shakes his head, "I think you're just too picky."
"I can afford to be," she smiles, before bidding him goodbye. Then, she's gracefully turning and walking to and out the door.
I sigh. I suppose I have to follow after her now.
I follow her car in mine, and we arrive at one of the local coffee shops. I haven't been to this one yet, so I'm eager to try it, but at the same time, the pit of anxiety seems to be growing exponentially. Even if I did tell myself I'm excited about this one-on-one with Jasmine, I'm not sure I'd believe me.
After parking and moving to follow her on the sidewalk, I can't help but notice her mannerisms, and the effect it has on strangers. Her posture is immaculate, and it reminds me to pull my shoulders back. She makes eye contact and smiles at every person she passes, and I swear one of the guys around her age nearly walks into a sign afterward. She walks fast, and with purpose, holding herself so confidently that my brain...just cannot comprehend it.
Doesn't she get tired? But I suppose it would only be tiring to act like that if that's what it was - an act. If it comes naturally, or if that's just who she is...how? I struggle with making my bed in the morning...because what's the point when you're just gonna mess it up again at the end of the day?
Stepping into the shop, she immediately begins heading over to the counter, and I follow her like a lost puppy. While I definitely feel cool standing next to her, I absolutely hate the attention that standing next to her draws. It's practically an introvert's nightmare.
We order, and she insists on paying for mine. I try to say it's fine, but she simply turns to face me, raising an eyebrow, and asks: "Did you invite me out, or did I invite you out?" And then before I can reply, she hands the elderly woman behind the counter her credit card.
After getting our coffees, I watch as she scans the entire room, taking note of the table choices before making her way over to one right in the middle.
I start to fidget with my hair. There were a bunch of booths along the walls, why couldn't she have chosen one of those?
Stop whining. It's just one lunch. It won't last forever. And she paid for you. Be grateful and nice, you horrible person.
I sigh through my nose at myself, careful to keep it quiet so it doesn't seem rude. After all, what would I even say? 'Oh, no, I wasn't sighing because of you, Jasmine, I was sighing because I'm annoying myself?' Yeah, right.
We sit across from each other at a small table to wait for our meals, with my back to the window and her facing it.
Should I say something? What do I even say?
"You're wondering why I invited you to lunch, so I'll get right to the point."
"Oh," I say, surprised. Surprised and waiting for the bomb to drop. Surprised and waiting for her to say I don't belong in Vaughn's friend circle. Surprised and waiting for the 'you should stay away from him for x reasons.'
The bomb drops. "I'd like to try and be friends. Or at least acquaintances."
I stare at her. Yeah, I should definitely stop assuming.
"...Really? But...why?"
She folds her hands together on the table. "Siara, Tomas, and Malee all speak highly of you, and I don't think I should avoid trying to get to know you solely because of Vaughn."
I'm confused. "You know Malee? ...Why would you avoid me because of Vaughn?"
"Yes, Malee and I are good friends," she explains. And then she purses her lips carefully, considering her words. "You're here because of Vaughn, aren't you? You're directly tied to him - and Vaughn returning caught me off guard. It brought back a lot of memories, which brought back a lot of anger to the surface. Not necessarily directed at him, but some of it. And then to see him with you, after how things were years ago - it made me uncomfortable and it made me upset. I still stand by my opinion that the age difference is-"
"Vaughn doesn't like me like that." I can't seem to process any of this. Is she really being this open and honest? At least it's better than playing polite, I guess.
Besides, there's no way that he could, I tell myself. And, it's not like he asked me out or acted like he ever liked me like that. Literally, who am I kidding - he could never see me as anything but a friend. He always seems uninterested, so isn't that why I've kept my own feelings hidden?
"It's none of my business if he does or doesn't," she says. "And I don't wish to make it my business, because ultimately, it's your choice how you navigate relationships, regardless of what people may think or say. I'm simply explaining why I was hesitant to reach out to you."
"So why did you change your mind?"
She gives a graceful shrug, keeping her hands on the table. "Curiosity. People speak highly of you and your work ethic. And it would be unfair of me to write you off based on a first impression, or without giving you a chance at all."
I stay quiet, trying to absorb everything she's just said to me.
I'd love to get to know her. But at the same time, all I can think of is her gaze on Vaughn and me, and her comment about Penny.
I really don't want to ask, but she's been upfront with me. Maybe she'll appreciate my being straightforward.
"Jasmine, I have a question," I start hesitantly. "Or two."
"Good. What are they?"
"Why the judgemental looks to Vaughn and me? Is it really underlying concern, like Tommy said it was?"
She raises an eyebrow. "When did Tommy say this?"
I feel my face start to heat up. "At the cabin. He said you asked him to talk to me about Vaughn and me since you were leaving and wouldn't be able to."
She frowns, sighing. "I mentioned checking with you, but I didn't ask him to. I know he meant well, but I don't like him putting words in my mouth that he knows I never said," she pauses. "What else did he tell you?"
"He said to not take it personally, because with your work and past, you're 'bound to not approve.'"
She nods, then moves back to the earlier point of conversation. I don't ignore how she doesn't deny what he said. "To your previous question, the answer is partially. As I mentioned, it has to do with resurfacing memories and the only girl I knew Vaughn to be with. But it also has to do with wanting you to be careful, yes."
"What do you mean, though, by being careful? In all the time I was with him in the cabin in Chickaloon, he was only ever thoughtful and careful." Except for when he was making me pull deer carcasses, shovel snow, or waking me up with a handful of it. Or when-
"Vaughn was always kind, Mikaere, but trauma and eight years of isolation usually don't mix well. He says it helped him to heal, and maybe he does truly believe that, but I'm just hoping you'll consider that there may be residual issues that have not yet been resolved. And the last thing you, or anyone needs, really, is to invest yourself into healing another person when you're trying to create a whole life for yourself."
"There's a difference between healing and helping, though."
"Yes, but do you know it?"
I pause, and she moves on before I can reply.
"I don't know what Vaughn has told you about his past, and I'm not going to be the one to say anything too revealing. But there was only one time he ever got violent. We were surprised, but it did happen. The newspapers blew it out of proportion, and the boy deserved it, but I think you should at least wait until he opens up and tells you himself before you commit to anything. It never hurts to be careful."
I nod slowly, feeling torn. I do agree with her advice, but it's kind of useless to me and Vaughn since I've already determined he doesn't like me that way.
Or does he? All of his friends seem to think he does.
I'm getting a headache.
But I still have one more question.
"That day at the cabin," I start slowly, carefully. "Why did you bring Penny up?"
She meets my gaze head-on, and if she's surprised by my question, she doesn't show it. It takes her a moment to reply, though. I've noticed that about her - she always seems to think carefully every time before she speaks.
"Penny deserves to be remembered," is all she says.
And that's that.
Our meals arrive, and we continue to talk. Except that this time, it's lighter, easier conversation, now that the air has been cleared. She tells me about her job as a paralegal, how both her parents are Tlingit artists, and a little about the Tlingit culture and her beliefs. I listen, only answering questions about myself and Washington when she asks because I'd much rather hear her talk than say anything myself.
But the rest of the time passes smoothly and quickly, and it ends with us exchanging numbers. She's very busy, she tells me, but she hopes we can do this again. I smile and tell her that that would be nice.
By the time I'm leaving for the bank, I'm still feeling optimistic.
...
a.n. // guys i'll be 18 in 18 months im not okay. so i have started searching for a starter job and working on a resume so if anyone has any tips that helped them and wanted to share...i will love u forever