Salted Caramel Coffee (COMPLETED!)

Chapter Seventeen} 5l¡ę$

     "I what?" I take Jess off pause, propping the camera back up on the shelf. "This doesn't make any sense."

Jess lays her hands flat on the table, leaning towards me with a terrifyingly sly smile on her face. "Of course it makes sense! You won! You've got all the reason to believe that she's lying that there is. Bust the hell out, for God's sake!"

I shake my head. "It's- it's gotta be fake." I say, placing a hand on my forehead. I can't comprehend all the information that's been thrown at me in the last minute and a half. "How would Castor have a baby while at the Graveyard? That's impossible."

     Jess folds a thin stick of gum into her mouth, chewing it thoughtfully. She always thinks better with gum.

     "It's totally possible." She points out. "Didn't Blaze say both her parents died?"

I think back to our conversation at Mario's- the first one we ever had. "Yeah. What about it?"

Jess smacks her gum. "What if Blaze's mom was at The Graveyard too? Probably did it with Castor and got prego."

     One by one, the pieces of the puzzle begin to fit together. Or rather- fall apart. I can't tell if it all makes sense or none of it does, but I do know one thing.

      I know who's lying.

***

I step over the plate of food that Black left outside my door, trying not to knock over the mug of coffee on my way out. It was hard to resist eating, especially with the strong scent of caramel drifting into the room, but I managed. With that said, I'm absolutely starving.

     I wipe my sweaty hands on my shorts, praying that my face doesn't look red. I can't look nervous. I have to look like I want to punch someone in the face. Because I do.

     Whatever you do, don't cry. Don't you fucking dare cry. You're better than that. You're strong, and if you cry it makes you weak. You've cried enough this week. Enough to last you a year, hear me?

Yeah, I hear you.

I begin the climb downstairs, the slope of the stairs seeming to become steeper and steeper with every step I take.

Stop being so weak. You become weak, you become vulnerable. You get vulnerable, you get hurt.

My hands close into fists, my nails digging into them so hard I almost cry out. I manage to hold it together by pretending I'm not in pain, though.

"Black?" I call, prying my fists open and pressing my flat hands against my skin. "You there?"

A girl with glasses and maroonish hair pops out from the kitchen, sipping iced coffee through straw. "Ah, you're not dead I see." She takes a long sip of coffee, sighing loudly after she swallows. "You didn't even drink the coffee I put out. I was starting to think you'd crawled out the window."

Noted.

I laugh dryly, stuffing my hands in my pockets. "Uh, yeah. I'm alive."

What time is it again? When I was searching Black up it was sometime after two... it must be two hours later than that since I had to search for that phone number. I bet it's like five now. Wait- she's supposed to come at five!