Meant to Crash | ✓

Chapter Six

There was an artsy three story bookshop that also sold old records and coffee at a great price half a mile from where I worked. If we all were on a day off, Akin, Layla, and I piled into my car and drove down there. Most group of friends had a bar or coffee shop to hang out at. Since we walked in a restaurant that had a bar area, none of us wanted to bother with alcohol or the crowd atmosphere of café's in downtown San Francisco. We had settled on this particular place and called it our home more often than recently because summer break had started for Layla and I nearly a month ago, giving us time to stop over our spot a lot more.

"Hey, look at this one." Akin picked up a book with a red spin.

Right now, we were playing a game we played out of boredom. It had started because Layla was trying to find a novel to read in the discount floor where everything was two dollars. Akin wanted to annoy her, so he'd stop and read out a title, and I would guess what the book was about purely by the title. A lot of the time, it was a crazy and silly guess to make each other laugh, but it was fun trying. Somehow, it became our thing.

"What's the name?" Layla asked.

"November Blood by Clare Newman," Akin read off.

"Hmm." I stopped to think about this one. "Maybe it's a memoir in the point of view of a turkey getting killed for Thanksgiving."

"Could you be any more morbid, Maddie?" Akin grumbled. "You're wrong anyway, but would you like to make any more guesses?"

"Nope." Instead, I went back to reading the descripting of the book I had picked up. My back pocket buzzed before I could get to second line. Pulling out my phone, I checked the message I had received. It was my mom. I skimmed the message briefly and saw the name Lockhart in the midst of words. With that, I put my phone back in my pocket, but not before changing the sound settings to silent. It had been two weeks since I had heard about the Lockhart's, and I'd like to keep it that way. Layla and Akin hadn't brought them up and neither had my mother, seeing how much discomfort Sebastian made me.

Half an hour and an ice coffee later, we were all heading to the register. Layla had gotten the latest murder mystery from one of her favorite authors, Akin went for an autobiography by a rock star, and I got a half priced Sci-fi novel.

"Hey, guys," greeted Nigel. He was one of the cashiers we knew by name and knew all of us by name because of many visits. He smiled at us while we walked up to him, pushing his black rimmed glasses up the bridge of his nose. His eyes darted to Layla, looking at the book in her band. "What do you have today?"

Layla raised the book from her hands and placed it onto the counter. "Another Blaire Sterling," she replied. "I didn't even know this book was out yet."

"You haven't even started the series," Akin said, "Why do you keep buying the sequels?"

"So that when I finish the first book, I don't have to rush to the book store to get the next installment," Layla explained, "I have all of them."

"What if you lose interest in the first book and hate it though?" I asked.

Nigel scoffed. "Its Blaire Sterling we're talking about here. You can't hate it. That's unheard of."

I rolled my eyes. They both had a weird obsession for this author I clearly didn't understand. "I bet if she banged her head on a keyboard and charged you guys fifteen ninety-nine after to read it, you'd still buy it simply because it has her name on the cover."

They exchanged looks briefly, then nodded at the same time, agreeing with my prediction. As Nigel began ringing up her book, I checked my phone to see what time it was. My eyes blinked down in shock at the number of missed calls and texts I had received. All from my mom. Now, I was worried. Pressing on one of the many voicemails she had left me, I put my phone to my ear and listened in on what she had to say.