Chapter 11: You Don't Know What's Beneath The Surface

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Tyler,

I know what I did was stupid. I shouldn't have told Vera everything. I probably should've given her parents a chance to explain themselves. But what's done is done.

Her parents said that she talked to them but then ran out. I tracked her down to Seashell Diner. I don't think she would want to talk to me, but she needs to talk to someone. Someone needs to take care of her. Can you please talk to her?

-Jordan

~Jordan~

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~Jordan~

I closed the glove box.

I was sitting in my car in front of a 24-hour diner trying to figure out how the heck you talk to a girl. I felt like I was in middle school. Disgusted, I shook my head and dragged myself out of the car.

I walked in through the side entrance and took a seat in a booth across from Vera. She didn't notice as she looked out the window next to her. I had a perfect view of her pain-ridden face in the reflection of the glass in front of me.

I wanted to talk to her. I wanted to tell her that everything would be okay. I wanted to tell her that she was the same Vera she always had been, that this changes nothing. I wanted to hug her as she cried out her tears knowing that there was someone there for her, always in her corner, waiting for her whenever he his needed. No matter what.

But I couldn't. I knew that the moment she saw me, she would run. And I'm not sure I could find her again after that. Our houses, the diner, and the woods were the only places we hung out and the woods were no longer a viable option since Jason's death.

I pulled out my phone and scrolled the text that I had sent earlier. I read the response Tyler sent.

Tyler: It's fine, man. It's not your fault. We should've said something earlier anyways.

Tyler: And of course I will talk to her. You never needed to ask.

I responded a quick "Thank you" before stuffing it back in my pocket. Five minutes later, Tyler's car was pulling up into the parking lot. He got out, hands in his basketball jacket as he shielded himself from the slight breeze that picked up through the night.

Tyler slid into the seat across from Vera and she looked up, her expression unreadable. Tyler's back was facing me.

"Hey," he said.

"Hi," she responded quietly and placed her head on her hands.

"Jordan told me what happened."

"Did he?"

Tyler nodded. "They sent me here to talk to you."

"Why didn't he try to talk to me himself?"

I want to.

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