There Is No Happy Ending

Chapter One

Part one of chapter one, i got really busy but didn't want to starve you guys 

Grammar & spelling might be off (Just lmk)

* * *

ANTHONY

I lingered at the cemetery's edge. Hands thrust deep into the pockets of my dark coat. Above, the pearly sky hung heavy with thick clouds spitting at the mourners, draped in muted colors that merged with the cold light of the day. They shuffled away from the newly filled grave of Mr. LaBlanc, their footsteps muffled by the damp ground beneath. I waited, breathing in the deep rain. It was peaceful, especially since no one was sad.

Mist began to twist its way through the legs of the parting crowd, casting a ghostly blanket over the scene. My gaze lingered on the mahogany casket in the distance, where a figure with haunted eyes stood alone by the graveside. She wore a school uniform and a cerulean plaid skirt. Her damp curls clung to her cheeks, gentle drizzle turning her golden hair to a soft brown. She flicked her head around as a man approached her. He had jet-black hair and a nasty scar carved from the bridge of his nose to the corner of his jaw, disfiguring his once handsome face. Around his neck was a golden emblem of a dragon.

It was my 'favorite' colleague, Artie Sicaccia, who wasn't supposed to be here. His tall frame cast a shadow over the girl. My brow furrowed slightly as I observed the interaction from afar, the sly smile on Artie's face, his hands moving up to the girl's shoulders, his closeness. Gross, The blonde girl's lips curved to a fragile smile as she mouthed a thank you, but her wide eyes screamed how nervous she was. A prickle of unease ran up my spine. There was something about this that felt— off. I looked over to see the sleek, inky car outside the cemetery gates. Were all of the Sicaccias here? There had to be something more to this. Locking eyes with Artie, I gave a silent warning. He got the hint and slowly retreated to the car to speed off.

I guess I should say hi, Sighing I pushed myself off the fence and cautiously greeted the girl.

"Are you alright?" I asked, softening my voice. The girl's response was a hesitant nod, her unnervingly blue eyes staring daggers into mine. She looked like a ghost.
"I'm okay," she whispered, her voice barely above a breath. "Claire," she smiled back.

"Oh— I'm Anthony," I replied. She smiled again and stepped away from me, her mary-janes tit-tatting as she went. So, that was Claire LaBlanc, the daughter of the dead man.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the inky black car roaring like a hungry beast as the red light caging it there turned green. It jolted, speeding down the street to where Claire stood. I leaped forward, pushing Claire behind my shoulder. What am I doing?

"What the fuu—" Claire yelped. I gritted my teeth, bracing for impact.

But none came,

The car screeched to a halt. Gravel and dirt from the worn road ricochetted over us. The window rolled down, and Artie's head shot out.

"What the hell are you doing?" Artie growled, his eyes flicked from me to Claire impatiently,

"What does it look like?" " I retorted sarcastically, "I'm saving her from being hit, monkey brain."

Artie's sneer deepened into a scowl as he hucked, spitting at my feet. Come on, I just bought these shoes. "She's none of your business, Pirelli," he growled venomously.

A muffled voice from inside the car roared, "You are a grown man!" A lacey black glove pinched Artie's ear and dragged him inside, "Act like it!"
I heard Artie howl as the car sped off once again.

Claire stood shocked and then burst out laughing, breaking the somber silence that had settled over us. She doubled over, clutching her knees as tears streamed down her cheeks. I scratched my head, staring at her, wondering if she was having a panic attack.

"What?" I questioned, fingering the button on my toffee-colored coat.

Claire took a deep breath, trying to compose herself. "I'm sorry," she said between giggles. "It's just... the way you pushed me out of the way like some kind of superhero."

Now I began chuckling, "Is that what it looked like?" No, seriously, did it? I think I looked pretty cool

Claire nodded like she was head-banging at a concert, "And that guy— He's like a child!" she cackled. "Is this some prank?"

"No, no, he's just insane," I replied

Claire stopped laughing. Shit.

"Wait, so that guy actually tried killing me?" She said. I sighed as the adrenaline of the moment began to ebb away. I could see the shock and disbelief still lingering in her eyes. Claire then glared at me.

"You know him-" she concluded. "Who is that? Why are they coming after me?"

"Well, I mean- he probably wouldn't have killed you," I said, shaking my head. "But I don't know why they want you, Claire."

The girl twisted a piece of her caramel hair as I rubbed his shoe across the ground, smearing Artie's green loogie on the concrete. Claire smelled like lemon, I wondered what soap she used.

"Do you want me to walk you back?" I asked hesitantly. Claire was absolutely disgusted,

.. then she went on a tangent, "Walk me home? Are you crazy? I almost died—sorry? I almost got kidnapped! And if you're hitting on me, that's even freakier—I'm thirteen, you weird old man!"

"I'm not hitting on you, freak," I scoffed, rolling me eyes at her accusation, is she crazy? "I'm trying to help you not get stolen on the way home." Claire giggled sheepishly and mouthed a sorry.

We walked for a while as the rain picked up, drowning the rhythm of our steps with the pitter-patter. Eventually, Claire broke the silence.

"How old are you anyway?" She asked

"Seventeen, nowhere near an old man," I said, "Y'know You're really happy for someone whose dad just died."

"He wasn't that kind of dad," She snorted absentmindedly wringing out her now-soaked hair, the raindrops dripping from her fingertips.

I shrugged, "I get that."