Just For Glory | COMPLETED

Another Bet?

There followed a depressingly large amount of time in which I was trying to get Jamie to tell me what happened on her date with Keefe. Finally, just before I left for work at the café more than two weeks after she had gone on the date, she sighed, maybe even a little annoyed, and told me that the knowledge of my relation to her deterred Jack very strongly. When I smirked, she smacked me on the arm and scolded me for ruining what could've been sort of fun. It wasn't like I could very well pretend to be apologetic for the fact that I had managed to run off the first of Jamie's...pursuers. It didn't hurt that it was that specific guy either.

I wasn't particularly thrilled about having a four-hour shift at the café when I had asked the manager for more hours, but summer weekdays weren't as busy as the lunch rush during the school year. I was stuck with it.

The moment I walked into the café, both Jane and Lila sought me out, but they only had one thing to ask between the two of them: "Where's Piper?" That threw me for a loop. I knew that Piper had come in a few times when I'd been working since December. She only brought Andrew one more time, but the other three or four times she was just by herself. Apparently, Piper didn't only come in on days when I had a shift. Both of the waitresses knew her name, and they'd both noticed that she hadn't shown up for almost three weeks. As a matter of fact, I hadn't seen Piper since the Saturday she'd been at my house.

It was a slow day at the café and I was only working for overtime, so after an hour in which only twelve people came and left, Jane sent me home. Since it was for a job, which increases responsibility, my mother let me take her car to work. That was her reasoning, and I wasn't arguing. As I was driving home, a certain red car caught my eye. The color and make were completely unmistakable, but I was more than a little surprised to see Piper's car parked outside a Michaels—she never really struck me as the craft store type.

After a moment of hesitation, I turned the wheel into the nearly empty parking lot, pulling up next to the red Impala. When I walked into the store, I was immediately confronted with huge rows of silk flowers and aisles full of artsy-looking tools I was sure would never be used by anyone. Ignoring the faintly disapproving stares I was getting from the middle-aged cashier, I began to weave through the store in search of Piper.

She was standing in an aisle with huge rolls of ribbon on the wall, a pale blue ribbon loosely wrapped around the fingers of her right hand and a silver one around her left. Her expression was an interesting mixture of helplessness and boredom. Quietly, I came up behind her and leaned casually against the shelf. When Piper still didn't look, I cleared my throat and said, "I like the black one personally. Silver is not your color."

With a squeaky gasp, Piper spun on her heel, relaxing when she saw me. "Jeezum crowe, Donovan!"

I raised an eyebrow. "Jeezum crowe?"

"Shut up, I got it from a book. I just don't remember which one," she muttered, awkwardly pulling her hands out of the lengths of ribbon. "Anyway, what are you doing here?"

"Saw your car," I said, gesturing towards the parking lot with an inclination of my head.

"I see, you just wanted to come in here and pester me," Piper replied, grinning slightly as she tilted her head slightly to look at me from under the brim of the dark green fedora she was wearing.

I tapped the top of the hat and said, "Nice hat."

She looked up as if she could see anything but the underside of the brim. "Oh yeah, it's my dad's. You like it?"

"Very Frank Sinatra," I drawled, and she beamed.

"Good answer," she said before glaring back at the ribbons with a look of distaste. Piper stuffed her hands into her jeans' back pockets, rocking backwards on her heels. After waiting a few moments, I gave in to curiosity.