Chapter 1

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"...I sit with you?" The words reached me as the song playing on my headphones faded out, causing me to look up, confused.

"Sorry?" I asked, pulling the headphone out of one ear, meeting the hazel eyes of the man standing in front of me.

One eyebrow was raised as he repeated his question "Do you mind if I sit with you? There are no more empty tables. I won't take up much room." As if to emphasize his point, he held up a coffee and a book. The man's British accent immediately caught my attention, and I felt I stomach do a little bit of a flip. I knew, however, I shouldn't let myself be entranced by his voice or the slight scruff darkening his chin and cheeks. After all, it wasn't like I would ever see him again.

"Go ahead," you responded, gesturing to the armchair across from yours at the cozy coffeehouse you spent nearly every Sunday at. "I can't guarantee I'll be any sort of company. I have a paper due in two days that I just started."

He chuckled so quietly I couldn't quite tell if I had imagined it or not as I replaced my earbud, looking back to my paper that was only half of the required length.

What seemed liked days passed by the time I finished the paper, but when I looked up it had only been an hour and a half. I glanced up at the chair across from me, wholly expecting it to be empty by now. My companion was still there, though, now with his legs crossed up on the seat. As I glanced at his face, I could have sworn I saw his eyes shoot back down to his book, which I only now realized I recognized the cover of.

"I love that book!" He jumped slightly at my exclamation, looking at the cover as if he had forgotten what book he was reading before looking back at me.

"Yeah it seems really good so far. Just a shame he dies in the end. I mean, you know it's coming from the beginning, but I still feel like it's going to knock me on my back when I get there."

"Oh yeah, you're going to bawl your eyes out. It doesn't matter if you're a crier or not. I finished it while I was sitting in the back of a meeting for an organization, and everyone around me was looking at me like I was crazy. Although, they probably thought I was crying over fundraising or something, so I probably would have thought I was crazy too."

He shrugged as I started to put away my computer. "Crazy isn't always a bad thing," he said.

"That's true, but the kind of crazy you have to be to cry over fundraising probably is." I stood up, hefting my backpack up over my shoulder. "I should probably head out. It was nice meeting you...."

"Jack." He stood up, offering me his hand politely. I took it, noting how warm his hands were, and realizing it was probably from the coffee.

"Jack." I repeated his name, realizing it fit him perfectly. "I'm Sarah." I blushed slightly as I realized I was still shaking hand, and withdrawing mine quickly to place it in my pocket. "I guess I'll see you around." I walked toward the door, resisting the urge to look back at him, knowing I was probably imagining the feeling of eyes on the back of my head.

***

A week had passed, and I was back at the coffeehouse, as I was every Sunday evening. I jumped as I felt someone lean on the back of my chair. Looking up, I saw familiar scruff as Jack leaned over me, looking at my computer screen. "May I help you?"

"So this is what had you so perplexed last week? You seemed to be concentrating very hard." He straightened, walking around the small table and sitting sideways in the chair so his legs were hanging over the arm.

"Sort of I guess. Last week I was working on a research paper about a Nobel Prize winner in chemistry. The work that goes into some of that is way over my head, but it's interesting. This is just my organic homework."

He made a face. "That sounds disgusting."

"I would have to concur. I kind of did this to myself though. I have to expect this stuff when I'm a chem major."

"Oh god you're one of them?" he asked, smirking.

"Hey, at least I'm not an engineering major."

"What would you say if I said I was?"

"I would say I'm not apologizing, but I doubt you are. All the engineering students here are arrogant asses."

He broke into a smile. "I mean you're not wrong. On either front. My undergrad was in communications."

"Your undergrad?"

"Yeah. I'm getting my masters in journalism now."

"Oh... I didn't realized I was talking to an old fogy," I replied in a teasing tone.

His hand flew up to his chest as thought I had shot him, his expression feigning pain. "Ouch... that hurts so much. How will I ever carry on?" He let his hand drop, grabbing his coffee and taking a swig. "How old are you then, sixteen?"

I rolled my eyes. "Twenty-one. I'll be graduating in the spring." I checked my watch, surprised that it was already past midnight. "Did you just get here?"

"No I've been here for a while. I was actually getting ready to leave when I saw you sitting over here."

"This might be a weird question, but did you drive here?"

"No I walked. Why?"

"I was just going to ask for a ride back to my place. I know it's a safe town, but my phone is dead, and I don't like walking home alone without it."

"I can walk you home if you want. Though I should warn you, I'm actually a serial killer."

"Oh sure. A journalist serial killer."

"Hey it could happen! Vlado Taneski was a crime reporter in Macedonia who killed three people in as many years."

"Oh, and you know this how?"

"I like serial killers." He said it so nonchalantly I had to laugh. "How about this. My friend is the barista here tonight. I'll tell her you're going to walk me home, so if I turn up missing, she'll know who to report to the police."

"Good idea. She can even take my picture. That way they have something for the wanted posters."

"Alright, come on." I lead the way up to the counter, waving over my friend Karah.

"What's up?"

"Karah, this is Jack... um, what's your last name?"

"Cavanaugh."

"Jack Cavanaugh. He's going to walk me home, because my phone is dead. If you can't reach me in the morning, we would like you to report him to the police. Can you take a picture of him on your phone so there's something for the wanted posters?"

She snorted, pulling her phone from her back pocket. "Sarah, I swear you're the strangest person I've ever met." She pointed her camera at Jack, instructing him not to smile and snapping the picture. "I've got my eye on you, Jack. Get her home safe."

"Sure thing." As he turned his back, she mouthed the words 'he's cute' to me and winked, causing me to roll my eyes. He was halfway to the door before he realized I wasn't behind him and paused, turning back. "Are you coming?"

"Yeah, sorry." I hurried over to our table, grabbing my backpack from the seat I had been occupying and followed him out the door.

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