ii.

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The next few days consisted of pouring rain, silence from JJ, and a growling stomach. Her grandma had kept the house in pristine condition, except she often forgot to fill the pantry and fridge with food. Cassiopeia would walk down the stairs, open the fridge mindlessly before shutting it back closed. She would often find her grandmother sitting on the front porch in an old rocking chair. Her hand holding a paperback book and a glass of iced tea by her side while the rain in front of her came down.

Every so often she would hear a motorcycle in the distance and anxiously look at her attic bedroom's window, only to find that the blonde boy was nowhere in sight. Every time she was let down she would do her ritual which consisted of rearranging her clothes, putting items in order and sanitizing her hands every so often. It kept her feeling sane, and maybe a little scary if someone ever were to walk in and watch her. On this particular day, she had been laying on her back, holding up a book towards the ceiling. She skimmed through the pages of the thriller before setting it down and getting back up to look out the window. The downpour hadn't let up and she was starving. She managed to get dressed while trying not to be entirely consumed by her anxious thoughts. As she stood in the mirror, touching her lower lip gently, she ran her finger over the small crevice and remembered the tall boy named "Rafe." How his lip was slightly bruised and cut open. She bit hers softly, her encounter with Rafe had made JJ furious. He spent the rest of evening lecturing her on how dangerous the boy and his clan were. He had lost that giddy gleam in his eyes when he talked to her. When he dropped her off at home that night on his motorcycle, he had mumbled a goodbye and took off before she could reply.

That was the last time she had spoken to him.

Shaking the negative thoughts out of her head, she went down the stairs and noticed a newspaper sitting on the counter. The front headline read, "Missing Chickens."

She chuckled reading that, knowing by far that NY headlines contained more gore.

As she bounced out the door, she took a deep breath before heading into the pouring rain. Natural weather never bothered her, it was the people that infiltrated every aspect of it. It was the people that made the world lose its color. She wasn't bothered by the rain, so she continued to walk down the dirt beaten path completely drenched towards the nearest restaurant.

--

When she walked in the bar was pretty quiet. A TV in the background played the local weather station but one of the bartenders was having a hard time keeping a signal going. Two older looking fans spun around on the ceiling, instantly making her shiver. She sat down at one of the tables near the windows and rubbed her hands furiously with sanitizer. An older man came over and placed a menu in front of her.

"New face I see, take a minute to look it over," He gestured towards the menu and she nodded, slowly flipping the laminated pages. She reached into her pocket and pulled out her money that was crinkled up and wet. She groaned softly before placing it on the table and began to count it. A whole twelve dollars. She ran a hand through her short brown hair and then pulled out a notebook from her tote bag, which was also quite drenched. She exhaled steadily and breathed gradually on the wet parchment, hoping to dry just a small section up.

"That's your brilliant idea?" A familiar voice scoffed. She looked up and saw the boy from the other night staring her down.

"Can you mind your own fucking business?" She snapped back.

The tall boy raised his eyebrows, "A little too early to cuss, don't you think, princess?"

She laughed coldly, "You're great at first impressions."

"I believe we have already met," He breathed out before taking a seat across from her. He rolled up the sleeves on his button up pale blue shirt and raised an eyebrow at her folded-up cash.

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