Across the Water..

Chapter 2

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I hopped on my bike after I wheeled it down the drive, my phone in my pocket as well as a crumpled 5 dollar bill.

The store is only about four blocks from my house so it wouldn't take too long, but I knew I needed to hurry with Carla on my case.

Just as I turned the second corner my phone chimed in my pocket. I skidded to a stop and pulled it out.

It was a tad nicer than the first message I'll admit.

"Your butt better be here in five minutes OR ELSE."

But it was also much... Creepier.

I didn't reply but opted to instead just place it back in my pocket.

Safest I figured.

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I arrived at The Stop with 30 seconds to spare.

I really need to get in shape.

I parked my bike in the rusted rack and proceed into the shop, greeted by Carla staring daggers at me with her amber eyes.

Forcing a small smile I walked behind the counter and picked my name tag out of a little basket inside a drawer.

"Hey there honey!" I heard a voice tainted with 15 years of smoking and just age say from across the store.

"Hi Brett," I said giving him a thin-lipped smile as he appeared from between the front two isles.

Carla stood beside me with her name tag already pinned on her pink Aeropostale shirt.

"What's wrong?" I mouthed to her as her eyes met mine.

She shook her head a little, her straightened black hair fell over her eyes as she looked down at her manicured nails.

"Daniel..." She whispers so quietly I could barely make out what she said.

I bit my lip and nodded.

Daniel was Carla's boyfriend.

They'd been dating for five months or so.

To me I didn't think they would last much longer, it amazed me that they'd even made it this far.

He was... Not good for her.

"Oh.." I wanted to say more but that was all I could say. I knew she really cared for him, but him? Not so much.

"Well I'm heading into town, My sister's having hip surgery today so I might be of one longer than I planned on before, hope you girls don't mind."

"Not at all Brett!" I said waving to him as he stepped out the door.

"Town" is Lakeview, population about 30,00 and about ten miles away from little Easton, where we live with only about 300-some people.

He waved back as it closed, but as soon as he stepped into his pick-up I turned to Carla.

"What is the problem with you two now?" I asked staring her in her amber eyes, now I noticed were starting to tear up.

"He said to leave him alone and get out of his life." She answered tearfully.

"Fight?"

She nodded.

I sighed and walked back around the counter and down one of the isles, straightening a bags of chips on a display.

"What about this time?"

"I don't even know... Aaron's here though."

Aaron?

A man about 25 came wondering in as I turned my head toward the glass door.

"Hey Aaron." Carla said, the tears now nonexistent.

Where did I know him from?

" Hi there little lady!" He said, a touch of a Southern accent graced his voice. His skin was tanned and his jeans a little tattered, messy brown hair stood out at odd angles from around the edge of his stained ball cap.

But where did I know him from?

He picked up a newspaper off the rack and set it on the counter, then proceeded to one of the coolers against the back wall and picked up a bottle of orange juice which he set next to it.

Now I knew him.

Aaron Arnold.

The wreck.