The Story of Us

The Weekend

All day Autumn and I told people about open-mic. Autumn was hell-bound determined to get me to sing tonight—as if this morning wasn't enough. Noah came in and out a few times—some by himself, other times with someone. Delilah walked in, looking about ready to hurt something.

“Look,” she glared at me. “I don't know what you said, or what you did, but Noah is not the same.”

“Can I help you?” I asked, unaware of what she meant.

“Don't get attached to Noah. We had something going before you,” she snapped.

“Look, I don't want no trouble,” I told her.

“Then don't talk to him anymore,” she said.

I breathed as she walked away. This place was swamped with people—I wasn't sure why. But all I could think about was why Delilah felt threatened by me. I gave the customers what they wanted and did as I was told. Open mic started at seven and it was five. Every hour, Autumn would make an announcement, telling everyone how close we were to open-mic. Jessica walked in and looked at me expectantly.

“One cappuccino coming up,” I said.

“Hey, Rachel,” Jessica said.

“Yeah?” I asked, putting the whip cream on top.

“I saw you at the game last night,” she smirked.

“Ally drug me,” I told her, handing her coffee.

“Hmm,” she nodded. “Well, did you have fun?”

“Uh, yeah. Didn't understand most of it,” I chuckled.

“Oh, I heard about the whole adoption thing. Should've known, right?” she chuckled.

“What does that mean?” I asked.

“Come on, Rae,” she said, sipping her coffee. “Be honest—not to me, but to yourself. You don't really belong here.”

“I do too,” I snapped.

“No, honey,” she placed her hand on my arm. “People who belong here aren't afraid of everything. They're not so quiet and... You're the only person within miles who is...well, like you. There is no one else like you. And sometimes that's a good thing. But here, it's not. Hopefully, you'll find your birth-parents and go back to where you came from.”

“I have friends here, you know,” I snarled.

“Two,” she said. “And one of them is pretty much obligated to be your friend.”

“Thomas is not obligated to be my friend. And Noah is my friend,” I whispered the last sentence.

“Noah? As in Noah Morgan?” she asked, all fake happiness gone. She was livid.

I didn't respond.

“Oh, no, sweetie. Noah isn't your friend. He'll flirt, but that's all he'll ever do. He's friends with the football team. Not us girls. I dated him, and we no longer speak. Why? Because he only flirts with girls. It's all he'll ever do. Best you learn now.”

She left before I could respond.

I breathed, trying to keep my composure. She was just messing with my head. Right? I knew I belonged here—I couldn't imagine being anywhere else. And Noah wasn't just a flirt. Was he? I mean, I barely knew him... Quit thinking! Quit!

“Hey,” Levi's voice greeted me.

“Oh,” I looked at him. “Hi, Levi.”

“Busy place,” he chuckled.