Scream 4

Chapter 16

Journal entry #106

Stu stopped calling me. Last time I saw him and Billy was almost two weeks ago now. I wonder where they went. I've been close to calling them but stopped myself because—

Because... Because... Because why, exactly? Your hand paused on the paper when you struggled to think of a reason. The most obvious one would be because you were still upset at the notion that Stu lied about Randy being the one behind everything that went wrong in your life, and yeah, that was kind of a big deal.

Begrudgingly, you tore the entry out of the diary, crumbled it between your fingers and tossed it away with a flick of the wrist. You didn't look up, not even until you heard the impact of paper against the plastic of the bin beside you. Your eyes only wandered off to the plate with an untouched croissant beside you, and you decided it was going to stay that way because writing about Billy and Stu had erased what little hunger you had.

Despite the plethora of evidence backing up the claim that Randy could not possibly have been the one to shoot you, a miniscule part of you was now hoping that he had. Not because you actually wanted him to be the one to have done it, but moreso because that would mean everything you knew now was going to stay the same. Nothing would change, and whenever your boys were going to show up again, all would return to relative normality. You wouldn't have to consider the prospect of them hiding something big from you.

Love made blind.

To your right you had your laptop standing on the table, screen turned on with two tabs opened. One being the one you should have been focusing on—your half-finished design for some shampoo company that had reached out to you last week—and the other you had opened more recently showing hundreds of articles about Ghostface.

Most of the links were red instead of blue because most of them, you had already clicked on in your search to gather more information. Unfortunately, the effort proved fruitless, because every time you thought you'd caught a lead, the computer showed this loading screen that went on and on for several minutes until it eventually crashed, each and every time.

Must have been the internet connection people in the bistro were taking advantage of.

And so you were absently letting your finger scroll down on the touch pad, watching the countless hits your search had brought up pass by, until you felt the buzz of your cellphone vibrating in your front pocket.

With a yawn you tried to hide behind your hand, you took it out, thinking it to be Emma or perhaps even Stu, but the last hope was squandered when the name on the screen flashed Jed Olsen.

J: “the environmental enthusiasts aren't going to be happy about that.”

You stopped your scrolling at once, feeling a nervous flutter in your belly when you read the text. Was Jed here? You didn't see him come in, not even when your gaze did a thorough sweep over all of the people inside.

As you were looking for the man, your gaze briefly connected with someone else's. That someone else being the blonde barista, who was frowning at you, her almond shaped face pulling into a sort of narrow flex, and she wiped her hands on the edge of the black apron that was tied around her waist.

"Is there something I can get you?" She took a step closer. Mariette dropped the piece of cloth she had been wiping the tables with, and when you looked back up to her, she looked very much unhappy. About what, you had no idea. You hadn't done anything to her.

Not that this was new. You had visited the bistro every other morning for the past week because you didn't want to sit at home all day long. It felt nice to be with people around you, even when you didn't engage in civil conversation besides the usual nod of the head and a good morning.