Falling Forward ✔

Chapter One - Reece

"Break's over!" I jerk, Sharpie smearing my wrist, and look up as Kaila shuffles around behind the counter. Her eyes are calculating, hair twined into a messy blue bun atop her head, fingers absently working the espresso machine.

I cap the marker and shove it into my apron, matching her scowl. "It's not even busy," I complain, join her, nonetheless. Kaila grins and bumps her hip into mine, expression sly.

"Exactly, you can catch me up on your weekend," she answers, eyebrows raised. I wrinkle my nose and rake my fingers through my bangs, sighing.

"There's nothing to tell; we went out, it was awful, and I ditched," I grumble, referring to the blind date Kaila so craftily tricked me into. She huffs, capping the completed drink and handing it to the waiting customer. They offer thanks; Kaila nods acknowledgment before facing me.

"Details Reecie." She orders. I roll my eyes, shoulders slumping as I lean back against the counter.

"Like what?" I whine, wishing I had something else to distract her with.

She throws her hands up in exasperation. "Like, what went wrong?" Kaila prompts, arms crossed as she awaits my response. I mirror her, pressing up onto my tiptoes as I debate how to answer.

"His socks were mismatched, he kept fiddling with his knife like he was preparing to kill me, his teeth were crooked..." as I ramble, Kaila's face turns stony. "...He talked in the third person, ordered for me without asking what I wanted, and—" Kaila clamps a hand over my mouth, her lips twisted into a sulky sneer.

"Alright," she barks. I nip at her fingers; Kaila withdraws with a yelp. "Ow!"

"You wanted to know," I argue. "Also, I thought we agreed that you'd stop meddling with my love life," I grumble.

"No," Kaila corrects with a shake of her finger, "you asked, and I declined. You know," Kaila pauses and pinches a strand of my blonde hair between her fingers. "If you let me cut your hair, maybe an asymmetric bob or a pixie cut—"

"Hell no!" I break her hold, scowl at her disappointment. "I'm not a guinea pig for your cosmetology classes." I sass.

Kaila was only one class away from graduating with an associate degree in Cosmetology. Still, there was no way I would let her chop away at my hair. Again. The first time, granted, almost one year ago, hadn't gone so well. From her excellent grades, I knew she'd made leaps and bounds in her work, but that didn't take away from the horror of her shaving half my head.

Maybe it was on my request, but I hadn't been serious. Plus, my state of mind those days was questionable at best. She should've known not to take a razor to my head.

Kaila wrinkles her nose and juts out her lower lip, pouting prettily. "I'm not going to turn you into Frankenstein's wife. I'm actually pretty good with hair these days." Kaila argues, patting her own head of blue locks and casting me a bitter look. "And maybe a change of pace will do you some good."

"My pace is just fine." My best friend narrows her eyes, lips tightly pinched as she grips my wrist and draws the sleeve of my sweatshirt up.

I shriek in alarm, eyes searching the café for witnesses.

She gasps at the reddened skin, the fresh cuts, the beginnings of new scabs. "You call this fine?" She whisper-yells as I wrench out of her grasp. My cheeks flame an indignant shade of red as I pull the sleeve down, cradle my arm to my chest.

Kaila steps back, creating a chasm of space between us that distant conversation and the low thrum of music struggles to fill as we stare into each other's eyes. I can see betrayal, worry, and horror in her sea-green gaze, in the lines on her forehead, the way she bites her lip.