Page 20 of Creed

“An old friend,” I volunteer. Not that it’s any of his business.

“Is he aware he’s only a friend?”

“I’m not sure what you mean. What’s it to you, anyway?”

“I didn’t mean to offend you. My bad.”

“Well, you didn’t,” I mutter and scan the schedule.

I don’t work the same shift with Tonya again for a few days. Bummer. Looks like I share nearly all my shifts with the new busboy. I miss our old one. Jeremy was great. He didn’t ask too many questions and never stole anyone’s tips. But he ran off and joined the Army and was shipped off for basics back in August. We’ve gone through at least four others since then.

I grab my stuff and book it to my car, happy my shift hasended.

I make the drive home mindlessly. Once inside, I do my usual routine of stripping off my work gear and doom scrolling the internet for a bit. Seth’s profile isn’t too hard to find, though he doesn’t appear to be very active. At least not publicly. His work isn’t listed. I can’t see his friends.

I debate on sending a friend request but decide against it. The last thing I need to do is encourage him, but I’d be a liar if I said I’m not curious.

If I’m being honest with myself, I’ve missed him and part of me has always wondered what happened to him. I toy with the locket hanging around my neck. I’ve always worn it out of habit. At least that’s what I’ve always told myself. I guess I couldn’t bring myself to part with my last reminder of him.

I don’t want to stay here in my apartment where I’m going to sit alone and be paranoid that someone is going to break in and hack my body into teeny pieces and shove them in a suitcase and toss me in a river or something.

I take a quick shower to get the grime off of me from work, then head over to Tonya’s to listen to her gab about her night with Ghoul and bitch about her ex. Her problems and love life will be a great distraction from overthinking mine.

Going through the same ritual as this morning, I check my fire escape and look out the peephole. Outside, once again I scan for unfamiliar cars and faces, then check my backseat and trunk. That bullet under my pillow hascreeped me the hell out. On the drive to Tonya’s, I’m constantly checking my mirrors to see if anyone is following me.

If I didn’t have the bullet as proof, I’d believe I dreamed the whole thing. Thankfully, work kept me busy enough that it wasn’t constantly on my mind. Seeing Seth was a welcome distraction, even if ninety percent of the time he was working his way under my skin.

I hit the drive-thru of a local pizza place and pick up a ready-made pepperoni and an order of these cheese stuffed muffin thingies that Kaydence loves. Tonya will forgive me for blowing off her texts from earlier when I show up with dinner, saving her from having to cook.

The second she opens her door to see me holding the food, I’m rewarded with her infectious smile. Despite the shitty hand life has dealt her, she always finds the bright side of any situation. That’s one of the things I admire most about her.

“Just in time. If I had to make macaroni and nuggets one more time this week, I was going to lose my mind.”

“There could be worse things. When I was a kid, I only wanted grilled cheese sandwiches dipped in ketchup.”

She scrunches her nose up. “Ew. You are nasty.”

“Ha. Says the weirdo who dips a cinnamon bun in her chili.”

“It’s okay to be wrong.”

“You know what? I think I’ll take my pizza and go home.”

“Girl, get your ass in here and hush.”

“That’s what I thought.” I breeze past her as she stands aside for me to enter. If my hands weren’t full, I’d flip my hair. I dump my offerings at the kitchen table. Kaydence tugs on my hand, then holds her arms up, wanting me to hold her. I know what she wants. She loves jewelry and always wants to look at the locket I wear. As soon as I heft her onto my hip, she wraps her fingers around the silver heart. “Do you want some pizza puffs?”

Her face lights up and I untangle her fingers from the stranglehold she has on my necklace before plopping her bottom onto a chair. Tonya is already setting up her plate and cutting the pizza bites into four pieces, so they are easier for her to eat.

I grab a couple of paper plates and set us up with two slices of pizza each, then grab us both bottled water.

“You keep doing sweet stuff and I may have to give up on men and marry you instead,” she teases.

“No offense, but you’re not my type.”

“Ouch.”

“I don’t want to take a punch from that Rage guy.” I laugh, but I am only half joking. That due was unhinged.

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