Like Gold

16.

16.

I PICKED AT THE FRIES, taking one between my fingers and glaring at it beneath the dim diner lights.

I didn't feel hungry. Not really. If anything, I still felt nauseous after everything that had happened today.

I could still hear my mother's voice in my head, still see her eyes with that sadness in them that lingered every time her gaze swept past me. The sadness that had appeared a year ago and hadn't left since.

My chest pinched with guilt, my stomach twisting and turning. It was my fault. I knew everyone around me was just waiting – waiting for me to go back to normal, back to how I used to be. But every day that passed, it only felt more difficult.

I tried. I went out for brunch with Piper, like we used to. Except, the table felt emptier with Amber gone, and the conversation was forced. There were certain topics we avoided these days, certain jokes that couldn't be made.

I went to school and tried to chat with the students around me – people I'd known since elementary school. But their smiles were strained, and they seemed to shift when I was around, like they were scared of saying the wrong things.

I sighed, turning the fry over in my fingers, watching as the salt and oil glistened beneath the light.

And no matter how hard I tried to distract myself, I couldn't shake the dull feeling inside, remembering today's date. Remembering it was the one-year anniversary.

Jace sat across from me in the booth, sipping on a large strawberry milkshake.

I'd been to this diner a few times before, but it wasn't very popular. The neon sign on the window flickered and the tiles were chipped at the corners, but the food was good. Elvis songs played quietly from the speakers because they didn't have a jukebox, and by the third time Burning Love came on, I wished they did.

Jace reached forward, grabbing a fry from the bowl and right when I thought he'd toss it into his mouth, he swooped it downwards, dipping it fry-first into his milkshake.

My eyes widened, the fry in my hand dropping onto the table as he lifted his dripping French fry from the glass and ate it.

"I'm friends with a monster."

He paused mid-chew, meeting my eye, and furrowing his brow.

I gestured vaguely towards him. "That was disgusting."

"What? My milkshake?" he asked innocently, though I caught the way the corner of his lips twitched up.

"You just dipped a fry into your milkshake," I said.

"So?"

"You dipped a fried, salted piece of potato into a strawberry milkshake."

He lifted a brow. "Yep."

"And ate it," I said.

"I did," he confirmed.

We paused, staring at each other unblinkingly. Then, he reached forward to grab another and dipped it straight into his milkshake. He lifted the chip, pink milk dripping from the end.

"Want to try?" he asked, grinning.

I wrinkled my nose, pulling away from the disgusting, soggy mess. "No way."

"It's good."

"It's strawberry and potato."

"And it's delicious," he said, leaning closer towards me. "Come on, Jasmine. Live a little."