The Disappearance of Bexley Tate

Chapter One: Every Date

--Chapter One: Every Date--

"Autumn, the year's last loveliest smile."-William Cullen Bryant

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It was a beautiful autumn day. Well almost Autumn. It was September 11th, so close enough right? Anyways... back to all this descriptive crap...the leaves had fallen, the wind was crisp and cool, and the bright hues of red, orange, and yellow were scattered everywhere. I felt like I should pull out a pumpkin spice latte, and take some pictures with my Polaroid or something.

I strolled through some of the fallen leaves; they crunched under my boots. I brought my gaze up from the colourful but somewhat dead leaves to the cute building in front of me. A small, red brick building stood before me. Inside the building on the first floor was my café. I didn't own the small coffee shop, I just went so often I practically lived there. It's called 'The Well'. You might be thinking, 'wow what a creative name'; you'd be wrong. 'The Well' got its name from the wishing well in the middle of it. I've chatted with the owners before who told me it was there when they first bought the property. Ever since that conversation, I've wondered about how and why someone would put a well in the centre of a building.

I pulled the door open, the bell chiming as I entered. I was met with the loud murmur of conversation and the sound of milk foaming. There was always a distinctive coffee smell in this place. I took a deep breath and inhaled it all in. The café was dark inside as there are only two windows in the front, and few dim lights hanging from the ceiling. There were coffee tables, with couches and seats placed around them. People were sitting on some of the couches, leisurely drinking their coffees. Certain other people were lined up at the dark mahogany wood counter, peering up at the chalkboard menu posted above it.

The wishing well is the focal point in the place though. It's wooden, and has a small roof on top of it. The well is painted a white colour, but it has been distressed to show some of the wood grain. There is a small bucket strung up by a rope. You can throw coins down the well, I do it quite frequently.

I glanced around at the people in the café. Not many people were there. A couple old people and a young woman with her children. Not many people stayed at the café, most took their coffees and treats to go. I looked away from these people and to my usual spot, the back-left corner. A couple tables away from the wishing well, a boy sat. I froze and my heart skipped a beat as I realized exactly who he was. He was sitting at my table, or rather our table.

He had dark brown hair that I would describe as a chestnut brown. His body was turned towards me, but his piercing dark brown eyes that resemble melted dark chocolate were focused on his phone. I took a deep breath before continuing to walk towards him.

I passed by a mirror near the counter, and caught my reflection in it. My long dark curly hair, cascaded flawlessly past my shoulders. My blue eyes sparkled in the dim light, with an emotion clear in them, fear. My outfit consisted of a pair of ripped boyfriend jeans, and a burgundy long sleeved shirt with a beige coat thrown on over it.

I moved my gaze back to the boy. He sighed, and tore his gaze off of his phone. His eyes wandered over to the counter as he ran a hand through his messy brown curls. Suddenly his gaze snapped over to me. We made eye contact, his dark brown eyes seemed to peer into my soul. I reached the table briefly, and slid into the plush chair in front of him. I quickly unbuttoned my beige coat, and peeled it off of my body. I placed my coat down on my lap and then flickered my gaze to him. He didn't say anything for a couple seconds and instead just looked at me. He cleared his throat after awhile, "Bexley, were you going to make me wait for the whole entire day?" he asked, his tone defining how he felt: annoyed.