Lauren Sanders is struggling to rebuild her life with her aunt and cousin after her family's tragic death. But what no one knows is the truth about two things: how her parents really died and her battle with schizophrenia.
One day, Lauren stumbles...
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I was sitting inside the diner, ordering a milkshake and a few fries. The door swings open and just in time, the lady took my order and I watch as Lauren approaches me with this expression on her face that I can't quite describe correctly.
Yesterday at school, after we both decided to be partners for a project in EWS: English Writing Skills (in short EWS), I gave her my phone number, although I doubt, she would even want to call me. I knew she wasn't happy with the thought of sharing her number; I don't blame her either if she assumes, I'm going to leak it, which I also doubt anyone's actually going to want it.
She sat on the empty sofa in front of me, her fingers intertwined, bringing both her hands on the table, resting it. She appears like she's preparing to interrogate me for some crime I didn't even commit.
"So—"
"I want you to take me somewhere," She immediately says, cutting me off before I could even continue speaking. I took the water bottle sitting on the table and quenched my thirst instinctively, mainly ignoring how abrupt and blunt she was.
"T-Take you where exactly?" I nearly stuttered.
"I don't know the name of the street, but I do know which way to go," she says, her voice hinting with eagerness and much confidence.
She seems like she knows what she wants, even though I don't have a single hint as to what's going on right now... and why she even called me.
"Did you call me just to be your chauffeur?" I ask her.
She looks at me, her eyes blinking, with guilt written all over her face. As she purses her mouth, she nods her head slightly, causing me to laugh.
"What's so funny?" She asks.
"Nothing," I say, "You really are intriguing."
"To be completely honest, I thought you wanted us to start the project already, but I never expected that you would end up hiring me as a chauffeur and becoming your investigative assistant," I winked at her.
Before she turns away from me, I hear her scoff.
"You're just a chauffeur," She deadpans.
I struck a hand to my chest, my eyes shut as I say, "Ouch."
Lauren looks at the gumball machine in the far-left corner of the diner. She lifts her hand and says, "Excuse me," drawing one of the employees' attention.
She starts ordering a chocolate milkshake with extra chocolate sauce and onion rings.
"So, where are we going?" I ask her after I let her finish taking her order.
She smiles at me and opens her mouth, then after that, she closes it. She was hesitant to explain anything to me, but the idea of confronting her actions never crossed my mind.
"It's fine if you are not comfortable sharing it," I say, "I won't force you."
"You know when people say that, it's like they are also saying 'tell me,'" She says.
