𝐏𝐈𝐂𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓 │ 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐧

𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄

THE MORNING SUNLIGHT FILTERED THROUGH the windows of Beverly's Café, casting a warm glow on the polished counters and freshly brewed coffee pots. The air smelled of roasted beans and syrupy pancakes, but Emberly barely noticed. She leaned against the counter, her elbows resting on its edge, and watched Spencer from behind as he worked. He moved with an easy confidence, greeting customers with a smile and balancing plates on his arm like a pro.

Spencer had called her over before school, saying he wanted to see her. Emberly hadn't hesitated to come, but now that she was here, she found herself slipping into her thoughts, her gaze lingering on him. There was something about watching Spencer in his element that gave her a fleeting sense of calm—a brief moment where the noise in her head quieted.

"Wow. Twenty-five years?" Emberly asked, her brows raising in surprise.

Spencer turned to her, smirking. "Crazy, right? You ever wonder what we're gonna be in twenty-five years?"

Emberly tilted her head, considering the question for a moment before shrugging. "I don't even know what I'm gonna be doing tomorrow."

Spencer chuckled softly, but her words struck something deeper in him. He leaned against the counter, wiping his hands on a towel as he asked, "You're still coming, right?"

"To the reunion barbecue? Isn't that just for families?" she asked, her tone light, but there was a hint of hesitation.

"Yeah, but my pops is gonna be there. You and him ain't spent no time together, and I want that to change." Spencer's voice softened as he added, "It's important to me."

"Okay," Emberly replied, offering him a small smile. If it mattered to Spencer, it mattered to her. She was happy for him, really. Things with Corey seemed to be going well, and seeing Spencer rebuild that relationship was one of the few bright spots in her life lately.

Spencer smiled back, the warmth in his expression making her chest tighten. He leaned forward, their lips meeting in a quick kiss before he pulled away. "Come on. We gonna be late."

Emberly followed him with her eyes as he walked from behind the counter. "Oh, I'll just drop you at school," she said, heading to the table where her purse and a few notebooks were spread out.

"You skipping again?" Spencer asked, his tone more serious now. "This your third or fourth time this week."

"Yeah, I'm not feeling it today." Emberly avoided his gaze as she packed her things into her bag.

Spencer stood still, watching her. His mind drifted back to that night a few days ago—the orange pill bottle he'd seen tumble out of her bag. He hadn't been able to stop thinking about it. That image haunted him, keeping him awake at night, filling his head with questions he wasn't ready to ask. What were the pills for? Why did she have them? Was she okay?

He wasn't sure what scared him more: the thought of asking her directly or the answers she might give.

"Emberly," he started, his tone low and serious. "I gotta ask you something."

She turned to him, her brows knitting together in curiosity. "Yeah?"

Spencer hesitated. His heart pounded in his chest as he searched for the words. Just ask her. But as her eyes met his, he faltered. She looked so tired, so fragile, like she was carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders. He couldn't do it. Not yet.

"What are you gonna do today?" he asked instead, his voice softer.

Emberly blinked, surprised by the question. "I don't know. Maybe I'll go see a psychic, find out where I'll be in twenty-five years." She smirked faintly, but it didn't quite reach her eyes.