Frostbite

Chapter Twenty Two

So it's kind of unthinkable that I'm updating this after two months. If its any consolation, at least it's not eleven. And I am still alive. This book is going to be finished even if my fingers fall off after typing it. Even if I'm almost in my grave by the time it's done (I'm definitely hoping it won't take that long haha) it will be done. I'm making a promise here, I won't leave you guys hanging. In the way of good news, I have sorted out some more of the plot and even though there are a lot of parts that are simpy left as "some stuff happens here" it will all sort itself out, I'm sure, it always does. This book also has quite a way to go I have lots of exciting (well I think it's exciting at least) things planned. I can't wait! In terms of an apology, I'm REALLY sorry for making you guys wait so long. Being busy isn't much of an excuse but that's it. This is my last year of school and the first term is always really chocka block. All your guys comments and votes and HELLO NEW READERS has been what made me decide to write a bit more. It's so lovely to read your comments and you guys are amazing if you are still reading this lol. If you managed to suffer through the awful first section of this book you really deserve an award.

Deny this emptiness,

This hole that I'm inside

These tears

They tell their own story

Sam smith - Lay me down

CHAPTER TWENTY TWO

I laid my head back against the rough leather on the seat and sighed. I was half sprawled across the back seat of a grimy pickup truck. I was trying to distract myself from the fact that we were hitchhiking. My body was insisting that sitting in this beat up old truck was still a hell of a lot better than walking along the road in the rain. My feet were torn up with a myriad of small cuts due to the loss of my shoes - although I wasn't sure whether my heels would have been much use anyway. My hair hung over my shoulders in limp strands of dull crimson.

I was also pretty certain that I looked like a raccoon. My makeup had smeared across half my face and I wasn't going to do anything about it because at that point I really didn't give a fuck about how I looked. I just wanted to go home.

"You kids'll be okay from here?"

I blinked open my eyes slowly and forced them to focus on the truck driver. He looked to be about sixty, he had thin balding red hair and a raggedy beard with a few crumbs in it from the endless packets of chips he had been eating as he drove. The floor of his truck was carpeted in chip packets that crinkled whenever I moved.

"Yeah, thanks." Rhys said as he slid out of his seat.

I nodded to the man and he smiled kindly.

"Get home safe alright? It's no good for anyone to be running 'round town this late. You get some nasty types out here."

"We will." I assured him as I reluctantly stepped out into the cold. I pulled my jacket tighter around my shoulders. The rain had abated slightly; it was now just a fine mist through the air. The lights of the truck became hazy as it pulled away from the curb.

I sighed and turned to see where we had been dropped off. The truckie had simply offered to take us to 'town' but where in town we were I had no idea.

"You've got to be kidding me."

We were standing outside Harry's Coffee.

The familiar setting somehow made everything worse. I could see the faded leather chairs and the scratched wooden counter. I longed for the normality of simply drinking some coffee and talking with Carrie. The salty tang that permeated the air reminded me of her endless fascination with the boys that surfed at the beach outside the window, and just out of habit I glanced towards the shore.