Page 6 of Chasing Home

“If you’re attempting to become a hermit, I should warn you that that doesn’t really work here in CP,” Bryce says, thumbing through the stack of papers in her hand before snagging a pen from the cup beside my arm.

“I’m not becoming a hermit.”

Anna comes over to us, looking down at me with a deadpan expression. “Yes, you totally are.”

“I’ve always preferred having time to myself.”

“What do you even do in that house of yours, anyway?” Bryce asks.

“Lots of things.”

Anna nods heavily. “Go on.”

“Sit on the back porch. Watch TV. And I don’t have to explain myself to either of you,” I mutter, folding myself back in the chair to create more distance between them and me.

Bryce starts writing on the inventory papers, her script ungodly messy. “The house you’re living in is one thunderstorm away from collapsing on you in your sleep. Don’t blame us for not wanting to find you trapped beneath a piece of rotted wood with a squirrel eating your toes.”

I scrunch my nose. “That is so grossly detailed.”

“It could happen.”

Anna doesn’t look disturbed by her friend at all. Her expression is warm and soft as she says, “I understand if you don’t want to come out. I overstep sometimes because I’ve been in your position and didn’t know how badly I needed some genuine fun until I had it shoved beneath my nose.”

I relax slightly, my walls softening. “Thank you. I’ll think about it.”

“It’s your funeral. I’ll keep an eye on your house for squirrels,” Bryce says before taking her papers and heading toward the storage room.

Anna and I watch her go. I want to laugh and tell the black cat of a woman to mind her own business at the same time. In the weeks I’ve been here, I haven’t seen a single squirrel. And yeah, the house I’m staying in is . . . lacking charm and decent water pressure and even a genuine aura of safety, but it’s a roof over my head, and that’s all I need. Not to mention, it was the only rental available in all of Cherry Peak, which, once I arrived and saw the size of the town, wasn’t all that surprising.

“I’m sorry if we’ve made you feel pressured to go out with us at all. That’s my fault,” Anna says, nipping at the inside of her cheek with a guilt-stricken expression.

“You’re not pressuring me. I’m just still getting accustomed to the place.”

“I get it. Honestly, I do. The offer is still there if you’re up for it. It’ll always be there. We all really liked it when you came out with us the first time.” She smiles, and the honesty in her words is impossible to deny.

It’s why I don’t tell her that she’s wasting her time with me and instead flash a half-smile that I hope looks convincing enough. I don’t plan on joining their crazy group of friends. Connections like that will only lead to trouble when it comes time to leave. A time that I hope is coming soon.

The only thing I plan on doing while I’m in Cherry Peak is track down Wanda Rose and learn why she up and left this town before I got here.

2

JOHNNY

I pull my coffee mug closer to me, letting it hover along the edge of the table before grabbing a tiny pod of cream and ripping open the top. Tipping it above the mug, I watch the white liquid drip into the steaming coffee, turning it from black to a light brown colour. The sugar comes next, three pouches ripped open and hastily dumped into the beige liquid before getting a quick stir.

The coffee burns as I gulp it down, the long day having suddenly caught up to me. My energy is gone, leaving my limbs heavy and mind lagging.

Setting the cup down once it’s empty, I catch the eye of my waitress and nod eagerly when she lifts the carafe of coffee in a silent question from behind the long red counter. I flash her a grin, hoping my appreciation is obvious. I’ve got no problem walking up and asking for more, but Kristen’s a real nice girl. Too nice to make me come to her.

“If you’re that thirsty, I can just bring you some water,” she says once she arrives back at my table. “You drink more coffee than the old men who come in before dawn.”

“I’m an old man at heart, Kristie. Don’t let my smooth skin and healthy locks convince you otherwise.”

She laughs while refilling my mug. “Is Daisy still meeting you?”

“Yup. Late as always, though.”

With another pod of creamer and three more packets of sugar, I make my third mug of coffee the same way I have the previous two.

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