[19] Candace and Creepy Coincidences

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WOOHOOBAGS! (: Chapter nineteen! Things are getting preeeetty juicy now, and I decided to reveal the big 'woah-factor' you'll see at the end a little earlier. If anyone can figure out what Eli means with his notes -you are genuis (: Feel free to guess too, I'd love to hear your thoughts! :D oh, and if anyone's wondering I changed the last sentence in the last chapter, Grace doesn't read the note till now ;D

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C H A P T E R   N I N E T E E N 

❤ 

“What does it say? What does it say? What does it say?!” Sydney squealed, jumping up and down like a child that had just won tickets to Disneyland. She threw her arms round frantically like she was attempting to fly, and I had to pull her away from the deep fat fryer before she fell into it and turned herself into deep fried Sydney.

          I unfurled my sweaty palm and took out the crumpled note, slowly lifting the folded corners.

          “Taking your time, much?” Sydney huffed, brushing a ringlet away from her face. “Just rip it open!” But I couldn’t, I was so nervous I felt like the note contained some sort of top secret information that determined my life or death.

          “Just wait! I’m getting there,” I answered, chomping down on my bottom lip and unfurling the last fold in the note.

          “Oh for Gods’ sakes,” Sydney muttered, snatching the note from my hand and holding it up to her face. I watched the expression on her face change from bubbling excitement to lifeless dismay. She rolled her eyes, dropping the note to her side.

          “What did it say?” I asked, and Sydney held the note out for me to take.

          “Read it yourself,” she said with a sigh, and slumped out of the kitchen dragging her feet, the rubber from her canvas sneakers squealing like dying mice on the linoleum floor. As Sydney put on her fake, cheery voice and served a customer with her classic ‘welcome to Curlys’, how can I help you?’ I braved it and took a peek at the note, sinking with disappointment.

          ‘366’ was scrawled on the pink post it in Eli’s messy handwriting. I blinked, frantically searching my brain for any sort of answer to what it might mean. But I couldn’t come up with anything; his cryptic message was like that algebra question you always get in maths that you swear our teacher put in there as some cruel joke because it makes absolutely no sense to you whatsoever. I scratched my head, staring intently at the note as if I thought staring it down would force it to blurt out the answers. Out of all the things Eli could have written, it had to be this, three pathetic meaningless numbers. I sighed, feeling totally let down. He could have just written a simple “call me” followed by a cellphone number, or a “what’s up” even a “hey” would have been acceptable. But 366? That was just stupid. After five minutes of thinking, I’d come up with an answer.

          I wandered back into the other where Sydney was bent over, her head resting on the marble counter.

          “Hey, um,” I picked at the price list stuck on the counter, the yellow sellotape peeling at the corners like flaky skin, “maybe Eli forgot to pay for his milkshake, that note was just an i.o.u. and he forgot the point between the three and the four, because obviously his shake didn’t cost three hundred dollars.”

          Sydney turned her had to look up at me, “Eli?” She blinked, “You know him, Candace?”

          “Um, yeah, sort of,” I muttered, when Candace didn’t know Eli at all, Grace did.

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