clouds ; l.h/c.h

CHAPTER ELEVEN

I bashed my toe on the chilly concrete curb, a yelp flying out of me. The 7/Eleven parking lot was dangerous when you had a lot on your mind.

You see, I almost didn't refuse Calum's invite to a sesh with his mates, but I opted out in the end. Calum was the best. Truly. And even though the gorgeous hunk had reassured me his friends liked me every time the stupid thought left my mouth, it felt safe to decline the offer and hang out solo at my beloved 7/eleven.

The sweet tang of sugar free pineapple hit me like a truck, waking me up from my zombied autopilot daze as I continued on down the sidewalk, careful to not let my toe succumb to any more injuries. "Go have fun with your friends!" I'd insisted. A part of me always worried that showing up uninvited to almost every party or meetup the all-star cast of populars held on Calum's arm was bugging a few people. It wasn't that they weren't nice to me, it was that there was only so much alcohol or weed I could
mooch of my lover's mates without paying them back before a hit was surely placed on me.

4:30pm. Thursday. The weak sunlight glistened, sickly against the whitewashing clouds. A familiar feeling from days identical in stature to this made me want to puke my pretty 7/eleven filled guts out.

I'd taken Darla to this same 7/eleven ages ago, and we'd sat in the parking lot and spewed awes about the stars in the sky. Now she was up there with them, a burning cluster of stardust hiding in the daylight, hanging down over me like an omen or curse.

Having fun felt illegal without Darla. It was like she was still here somehow, three steps ahead in the trench coated figure hurrying off the train, or in the crunch of leaves three steps behind that belong to nobody once you turn to look back. Instead of an archangel dusting blessings down to me from her pillar in the clouds, however, this constant presence felt more like the irritating icy glare of a teacher you feel burning into the back of your head seconds before you're caught vaping in class. Maybe that's the real reason I turned down Calum's invite. A masochistic need to wallow.

It would be a month tomorrow. I'd let the days slip past me, as per the advice of Calum and my parents. I knew obsession wasn't good, but with every hour in the day, I felt the rock that had appeared in my stomach the night of Harry's party sink deeper and deeper into me. It was like the bitch was waiting for me to solve the mystery. Put the pieces of the puzzle together. A month ago, I would've sprung at the chance to find who did this. Now? Just the thought made me ill.

I'd ended up returning her file, same way I'd nicked it. The police held no urgency in finding a killer either, and part of me foresaw a future where Darla's story would be told over coffee from overpriced lipglossed lips on a podcast about haunting cold case files. I was trying to be okay with that possibility.

BRIIIIIIIIIING, BRIIIIIIIIIING, BRIIIIIIING!!

'babygirl😩😞🤞💗‼️' was calling me.

"Yello?" I chimed.

"Kat!" Calum giggled from his end of the line. "How are you babycakes?" He was high as a kite.

I'm not sure what me and Calum were. We hadn't talked about it, and I didn't want to. But he treated me well and he took me out to dinners and he invited me to all his friend's parties, so we definitely weren't nothing.

A smile instantly floated to my face. "Good! Just walking. How's the gatho?"

"Great, just in the bathroom. I've got a question for you baby."

My heart still spun at the nicknames he gave me. "Sure!"

"Jesse's all confused about the game tomorrow. Are you gonna do that speech?"

And there it was.

That's the thing about tomorrow - it wasn't just Darla's one month, it was officially one month of insufferable bullshit from my school. The principal had suggested we play our next monthly football game in honour of Darla. A fucking banner was being made.

Obviously, they'd asked me if i'd wanted to talk. I told them i'd get back to them.

I groaned. "I dunno man..." If Darla really was breathing down my neck from the beyond, what would she have wanted? She never cared about football - none of that popularity crap. She'd probably barf if she knew I was asked to cry about her in front of the whole school. Again.

Still. A thought lingered that I hadn't been able to shake since the principal proposed the position to me. If the person responsible for all this was in that crowd (and if they were at Harry's party, there's a great chance they would be), maybe I could send them a little message. Let them know that getting away with this was the last thing I wanted to have happen.

"... Yeah. Probably. I think so."

"Awesomesauce," the intoxicated boy sung. "I'll see you tomorrow then?"

"Yup, bright eyed and bushy tailed." I tried not to be sarcastic.

"Perfect. I'm counting the minutes, Kat Holly."