Trace

Chapter 2

"What the fuck was that?!" Anne cries, standing up immediately.

     "It's Harry! It's Harry! I didn't answer the call- he's out to kill me!" I let out a strangled scream, as I run fast into Anne's wardrobe.

     "Cae, get your ass out of there! It's not Harry coming to kill you. Now you best come down there with me, or you'll feel awful bad if I die," she says, and I can hear her footsteps coming towards the wardrobe.

    I open the doors slightly, just enough to make out her face, and her piercing green eyes, warning me.

"If I die," I whisper, "Will you tell Ayla that I love her? My mum too?"

     "Of course," Anne whispers back, "and can you tell my family that I'm sorry?"

"For what?" I involuntarily snap.

    "For being such a hassle. Just let them know I'm sorry, yeah?"

"Aww, sweetie. You're not a hassle!" I say, leaning in for a hug. I then giggle at how silly we must look.

            "Do you think we should call the police?" I ask my best friend.

"Naw- once a braveheart, always I braveheart," is Anne's response.

   I just shrug, not entirely sure what that means. I push my long, dark wavy hair behind me and take a step forward, clutching Anne's arm nervously.

  "If we both die- you're family will have quite the surprise when they return from their cruise!" I smile, trying to lighten the situation.

   "Yeah," is all she says.

"Come to think of it, we haven't heard any noise. Maybe they came to snatch their favourite goodies and leave!" I quietly giggle.

   We tiptoe down the stairs, Anne's arm holding a broom, prepared to strike. We reluctantly enter the kitchen where we see a broken flower pot, its dirt spilt into the sink.

   "Elouise! That darned cat knocked down the flower pot again! Look, it's shattered everywhere!" Anne cried.

The tabby cat was perched on the window sill, it's back arched.

   "So no broken window, no intruder, no serial killer. We live," I sigh, and then start to laugh.

Anne and I both look at each other and burst into an uncontrollable fit of silly laughing, so relieved and our nerves getting the best of us.

 I realize the time after glancing at the wall clock.

"Shit!" I cursed, running towards the stairs. "I'm late!"

    "For what?" Anne asks, still in the kitchen, cleaning up the remains of the beautiful pottery flower pot.

   "I was supposed to meet Ghain at 10:00 for a brunch! It's 10:30!!" I scramble, gathering my clothes and stuffing them into a bag. I reek of alchohol and desperately search in Anne's closet for something decent to borrow.

   "Hopping in the shower!" I call from her bedroom. "Call Ghain and tell him I'll be there in twenty!" I don't wait for a reply as I hop in the shower. Afterwards, I sprint out and put on a cute white summer dress and head to the bathroom to put on some light makeup. Pinning my hair up with a yellow clip, I call down to Anne, "What'd he say?"

    "He said it's alright, he's running late, also. I doubt it, though. Knowing Ghain, he probably has been there for the past two hours," she chuckles.

    I run down the stairs, as I shove my feet into the already buckled sandals.

 "Watch it! You'll break them! Unbuckle the straps first!" Anne scolds.

"Blah blah."

    "Well, don't you look all dolled up, Ms. "I'm not ready for love" ," she teases, and giggles.

"Oh, shut up. I'm sure I didn't say it that way. Besides, Ghain and I are just friends. Nothing more."

"Mhhmm, sureee," says Anne as she winks.

    "Thank's for the dress, by the way!" I kiss her cheek as I rush out the door.

***********

"Thanks for brunch, Ghain. It was really sweet of you," I say, folding up my napkin as I sit across from Ghain.

He smiles as he rubs a hand through his sandy blonde hair, "It was no problem. I really enjoyed talking with you."

I blush as I look down at my hands, my fingers nervously enterwining themselves with another.

"So.. I uhm, was wondering. Do you maybe want to hang out tomorrow night? Maybe I could take you to dinner, or we could have a picnic by the lake?"

By the lake?? My mind goes into circles, trying to interpret these adorable words.

    "I'd love to, Ghain," I say, smiling.

His dark eyes light up as he stands up, and reaches out his hand to me to help me out of my chair.

What a gentleman.

    We hold hands as we walk out of the cafe, and he offers me a ride home, but I giggle and tell him that I drove here myself.

He nods and says, "Alright, I'll see you tomorrow then, babe."

Hopefully he doesn't realise the pink blush in my cheeks as I turn away, grinning.