AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Because that night was embarrassing. My mother and I were kicked out of your house. And it was the beginning of what turned out to be a pretty terrible chapter in my life. So yeah, I was hoping you’d have forgotten it. I’ve tried my hardest to.” She puts the books down and turns to face me. Her expression tense, like she’s expecting me to laugh.
Laughing is the last thing on my mind. I’m just amazed that she’s gone through so much and is standing here, same as me.
“I could never forget how interesting your stories were. And how pretty you looked.” I say.
She flushes, but this time doesn’t try to hide her smile. That feels like a victory to me.
“You came up with those stories when you were just thirteen years old,” I say as if she doesn’t know it herself.
She shrugs as if it’s not a big deal and smiles deprecatingly. “Yeah. I did. I was into some crazy shit back then”
“I still read them, you know. Especially that inscription. It’s in my bedroom on my shelf with the rest of my books.”
Her hand covers her mouth, she pulls the earbuds out of her ears and she walks over to the counter and leans against it, her back to me.
“Wow, I can’t believe it.” She shakes her head at the memory.
I join her at the counter and rest my elbows on top and look over at her.
“You want it back?”
She thinks about it, cocks her head to the right and exhales loudly.
“I mean, I guess. I don’t know… I haven’t thought about that stuff in a long time,” she says, her voice full of awe.
“So you haven’t been keeping up with all the new cold cases that’ve cropped up since then?”
“Don’t tell me you do,” she says.
“No, I don’t. One notebook full was enough to last me a lifetime.” I don’t tell her that I flip it open and read that line “All legends are lies” before I leave for a game or head out to take an exam. That through those words, she’s become my de facto good luck charm.
“That feels like a lifetime ago.” She sighs. “And yeah, I still keep up with cold cases, yes. Research them and try to solve them sometimes. But, I’ve grown up a lot since then. I don’t believe in happily ever after anymore. So, I don’t write them.”
My brain hears those words and my competitiveness rears its head and for some reason, I take them as a challenge.
“Do you write at all?”
“Oh, yeah. But just for my school paper these days. And more investigative stuff—like where did the money the school board was supposed to spend on AV equipment disappear to? But I still love reading books about unsolved mysteries.”
“Have you heard of Murder By The Book?” I ask her as an idea starts taking shape.
“Nope. What’s that?”
“A bookstore my sister likes. There’s a group that meets there to discuss unsolved cases.”
She waves a disbelieving hand at me. “No way.”
“Oh, yeah, we went in there once during one of the meetings and we stayed for it.”
“What was it like?” she asks wide-eyed, her guard down, her enthusiasm is palpable.
“Fucking weird. I mean, they believe some far out shit. But we went back a few times.”
“You did? So, you’re like… really into it?”
“Nah, But the lady who runs it used to bring these tamales with her every week and they were good as fuck. Totally worth sitting through the meetings for.”
A bark of delighted laughter is melodious and clear as a bell. It feels like a reward
