Darcy and her father return back to their old stomping grounds of New York City. With her, Darcy brings habits of being reclusive. She is perfectly content spending most of her time within the walls of her father's café and sees nothing wrong with t...
yes, i am aware the last time i updated was jan. 19 but lemme tell you that collegekills my soul and i've never been more sad or anxious in my whole life hahaha college is the greatest!!!! anyway, i really want to take this summer to invest my time in something that will make my soul happy again. i've been working on this chapter for literally months and i'm just proud i finished. shoutout to sarcastic_kitten12 for this cute cover <3
please ignore weird typos and mistakes, i hope you enjoy!
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"We didn't even realize we were making memories. We just knew we were having fun."
- Winnie the Pooh
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Dear diary
"Oh, gross. I knew I didn't wanna call it a diary."
Dear journal
"Mm, no. What about –"
Dear me
"Ehh..." And in a final attempt...
Dear Darcy Howard?
I let out a half groan, half laugh, and shouted, "This feels stupid!"
I erased the starter line once more and tossed the journal towards the end of my bed, realizing only after the release that I threw a little too hard. The book flew right over the edge and landed on the floor with a loud thud. With a jolt of my heart, I quickly got up to get it, relieved when I saw that none of the pages were creased. This journal was way too nice for me to man-handle like that. Chris surprised me with it. And by surprise, I mean surprise. It wasn't an ordinary, "look, I got you something!" No, it was way bigger than that.
I arrived at the café for my Saturday shift. While I was still a few feet away, I noticed a streak of color all across one of the café's windows. At first, I guessed that Papa maybe had asked Ben to go out and get some window markers to decorate the front windows for the holiday season, since he loves to doodle. He's not very modest about it – but hey, the man has talent for cartoon characters. He even drew some funny ones on a couple of cups and bags that I was writing messages on in my spare time.
However, the window did not say anything at all about the holidays. Instead, the words, "Document a night with me at Winter Formal?" was written in big multicolor blocked letters. There was a circle drawn around the word "me," and an arrow extended out to a square that encased Chris's face as he stood on the other side of the window.
By the time we locked eyes, he was already sporting a radiant – almost teasing – smile. The face I must have pulled at his stunt had to be amusing to him. I could only imagine what I must have looked like. However I looked, it must have shown the confusion, bewilderment, and disbelief I was feeling. He didn't even try to save me the embarrassment of being asked in front of customers and passersby. There was even some guy pointing his phone camera at me, recording. My heart thudded hard against my chest as everyone stared, anticipating, but it was also thudding for a whole different reason.
