Chapter 2

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Soundtrack

Unwritten - Natasha Bedingdield
No one else can feel it for you
Only you can let it in
No one else
No one else can speak the words on your lips

***

I stand by my locker a few minutes after the release bell, waiting for Jace.

As I wait, I put my combination into the lock and decide which textbooks need to be taken home, and which I can leave.

My eye catches on a Polaroid photo of Chey and I that's taped to the inside of my locker, and I sigh.

I haven't been to her grave since that day in early August, and it's nearly October now. I know I should visit, but it's strange. Strange to visit my best friend in a cemetery. Strange to think that she's really dead.

Sometimes the realization knocks the wind out of me.

I sort my books out, and close my locker just as Jace appears from around the corner.

"You want to go out for a cup of coffee?" he asks, raising an eyebrow.

I press Chey to the back of my mind and smile at him, nodding my head yes.

He throws an arm over my shoulder, and I lean into him.

"Let's get out of here," he says softly, as if sensing my previous thoughts. I force a smile through tight lips, and let him lead me out of the building and to his car.

Once we're driving, I ask, "Where are we going?"

"Café Rosada," he says. "That new one we've been wanting to try."

I laugh. "You mean the one you've been wanting to try because of the cute barista in the window," I tease, nudging him with my elbow.

He clams up, shaking his head and stammering, "What? I mean- No, I just-"

"Calm down," I tease. "As long as I'm getting a cup of coffee out of this endeavor, I'm happy."

"You won't say anything?" He asks.

I roll my eyes. "Of course not."

The rest of the drive is mostly either comfortable silence or my shameless teasing of Jace on his apparent crush.

When we arrive at the café, we grab a seat in a booth, waiting for a barista to come take our order.
There's a cute, notebook sized menu sitting on the table, and I flip through it.

I decide to have a slice of cheesecake, along with my coffee, suddenly craving something sweet. Besides, I can't remember the last time I had cheesecake.

A voice snaps me out of my thoughts, and I set the menu down and meet the friendly gaze of our waitress. The same one I noticed Jace eyeing when we drove by the other day on the way home.

She's a wholesome kind of beautiful, with walnut brown hair and soft doe eyes. She's model tall, with an hourglass figure.

"Good afternoon, my name is Trinity and I'll be your server today," she says, a lilt in her voice. "Are you ready to order?"

I nod, and relay my order to her, before we both turn to Jace expectantly. When he doesn't stop gawking, I kick him under the table, rolling my eyes.

He jumps, before stammering "Um, I'll just have a, uh, house coffee."

I stifle the laugh that wants to let itself free. Jace looks completely embarrassed, but Trinity seems amused.

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