Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 74348 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 372(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74348 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 372(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
But I also wanted her across the hall again, in my bed, on my arm when we went somewhere. Maybe Famiglia. She'd told me she had fantasy-dined there in her head a few times.
I wanted to be able to explore what we had barely begun to experiment with.
I made my way down the stairs, already typing into my phone the questions I would need to ask people.
I started at the grocery store, knowing she was often there. Then the park where she walked the dogs. Not finding anything or anyone, I backtracked, heading into She's Bean Around.
When it came to Navesink Bank gossip, the girls at She's Bean Around were always in the know. Probably because they interacted with damn near everyone in town on a daily basis, taking time to chat with everyone when they made it to the counter.
"Heya Cam," Gala greeted, blowing some of her red hair out of her eye, placing her hands wide on the counter, rolling a kink out of her neck. "Coffee and donuts?" she asked, brows furrowing when I shook my head no, holding out my phone instead. "Annie... Annie... why does that sound familiar?"
"She's the one with the flyers up," Jazzy declared, waving a dishrag-laden hand toward the bulletin board. "Guitar lessons, dog walking, house sitting, cleaning, babysitting. You name it, that girl does it. What's up with her?"
She's missing. Have you seen her today?
"I haven't," Jazzy said, shaking her head, looking apologetic.
"Wait... could that have been her with Bex and Nora earlier?" Gala asked, nose scrunching up a bit, trying to place the memory. "Cute blond girl, on the shorter side, wearing an oversized sweater even though it's kinda warm today?"
Yes. That's her. What was she doing with Bex and Nora?
Bex and Nora were local heroes among their age group. They called out street harassers. They offered rides home to girls stumbling out of the bar to prevent them from possibly being preyed upon. I'd once heard a story about Bex doing a makeshift hogtie on one of the douchebags with her scarves to keep him there until the cops showed up to arrest him.
"There was a guy too," Gala offered. "He'd come in and gotten a medium pumpkin with two sugars and almond milk."
"The guy with no chin," Jazzy agreed. Of course they knew him from his drink order. Then again, it likely wasn't his drink order. It was hers. She'd texted me a while back saying she was dreaming of colder weather and it being socially acceptable to drink pumpkin coffee again.
What happened with them?
"I'm not sure. But Bex and Nora were going hard at the guy, hands waving and everything," Gala told me. "Shane was there too. I think he chased the guy away while the girls walked Annie away."
Thank you.
"Go find that poor girl," Jazzy demanded, pushing a cup of coffee toward me. "On us," she added, waving me away.
I took my coffee, making my way across town to Shane's gym. If he'd followed the guy, maybe he had gotten a better description, a name, something. It wouldn't help me find Annie, but it would be good to know in case I passed the guy in town or something.
I needed more than a lack of chin.
"Oh, that fuck," Shane said, nodding, tossing a rolled-up towel at one of the guys walking into the back of the gym after typing in his code. "He's a nerdy fucker, but he was really trying to convince that girl to take the coffee he got her, to - I figure - go with him. Got the feeling they knew each other. And that she wanted nothing to do with him. I chased him back to his car. Silver Equinox. Ohio plates. And he drove out."
Did you happen to see where Annie went?
"Nah, man. Sorry. She went with the girls. But I saw those two walking back not long after. Probably just walked her home."
Fuck.
Alright, thanks.
"Hope you find her. If I come across that fuck - Thomas - again, I will hold onto him for you."
I gave him a nod, heading back out, making my way toward our apartment building, understanding that it was the last place she had been on foot, that if there was anyone who knew where she could have gone, it was her.
But there was nothing.
Not a fucking thing.
I don't think I got any sleep the first few nights, only managing when exhaustion would accept nothing else from me.
It was Astrid, of all people, who came to my rescue.
"Hey look, it's me. Showing up and being a good friend and shit," she told me with a smile, holding a bag of what smelled like breakfast sandwiches up in the air. "Oh, you look like death. Are you sick? Did you and your girl break up or something?" she asked, looking altogether horrified at the idea of having to help me through it, likely already planning to sneak into the bathroom to text Liv for reinforcements so the uncomfortable emotional burden wouldn't fall on her.