Chapter's song: Vowels by Capital Cities

The ride to Bransbury is uneventful. Sort of.

Marks makes fun of me every time he can and I'm utterly annoyed by the time we reach my Mom's town. I cannot believe I was excited to pass the weekend with this jerk. The whole weekend. 

Gosh.

I really need to start finding new friends because the fact that I jumped at it shows how pathetic and desperate I am.

Plus, he'd been adamant on this friend thing. It's starting to get old and pretty annoying.

When we passed the town's sign, I breath out.

Thank God.

Mark parks his car in front of my mom's pub. I get out immediately, murmuring a hurried thank you. I can't move fast enough, because a second later, Mark is outside with me, opening his trunk. I take out my suitcase and fake a smile. "Thank you. See you around."

His lips curve. "I'd love to say hi to Anya."

My grin fades. "My mom? You want to say hi to my mom?"

He shrugs. "She's really nice and I love her fish and chips." He closes the trunk with a bang, grabs my suitcase and saunters to the pub's front doors. I stay frozen on the place like a moron, for five seconds, until my feet finally move.

I push open the door, the little bell over my head chimes, and I'm welcomed by the bitter scent of beer and chips. I'm used to the smell. This pub has been in the family for generations, and I know that one day, it will be my turn to run it. My stomach churns. I rather keep writing lousy advice than run this place by myself.

Mom's blond hair is swept in a low bun, much like it always is. Her eyes are shining as she serves Mark a beer. They're already talking like a pair of old friends. Ugh. I'm seriously starting to hate the whole friend's concept. I blame Mark for this. And well, everything else that seems not to work properly in my life.

Exhaling, I reach the large counter. Mom's eyes slid to me. "This is a lovely surprise, sweetie!"

I grin softly. "It felt like I hadn't been here in a while."

Mom wipes her hands on her apron and walks around the counter to get to me. She encases me in a hug. "And Mark?" she whispers in my ear before pulling away. I shrug. No idea Mom.

"Are you guys hungry?" she moves back to her original place behind the counter. I know she wants to ask more, but she's holding it together for until we're alone.

"I am!" Mark chirps in.

Mom smiles. "Good. And you're in time for the second round of Bingo, too!" She hasn't finished talking when the pub door's open and a bunch of old ladies come in. They all freeze at the sight of Mark and me.

"Ladies, come on in. You're in luck because we have a special guest tonight," Mom announces. There are six of them, and all pair of eyes are on Mark.

The tallest one comes forward. "Are you going to play with us, Your Highness?"

Mark shifts on his seat. I glance at him and he's gazing at me. "We'd love to." He turns to the lady. "But please, no pictures are allowed. I kind of want to have privacy this weekend." I almost roll my eyes at him. Conceited much?

"Emma put that phone away!" The same lady tells one of her friends. Emma is the smallest one. She has a pink sweater probably knitted by one of them. Her face is all innocence until she purses her lips. I hadn't noticed but she is holding a phone in her hand. Reluctantly, she puts it away.

Huh. Maybe he knows what he's doing. 

"Thank you." The stool creaks when he stands up. "And please, I'm just Mark."

The group of ladies burst into giggles. They're like a group of teens fangirling over their favorite star. It's kind of cute, though.

We sit down and play with them for the next two hours. I have to admit that it's really funny. The women are incredibly competitive and they're watching every player's move like a hawk. It makes me think that they've had a previous experience with a cheater. 

The best part is when I realize that they're playing for yarn and it appears to be a big thing. Especially when I win and they ask me if I knit. When I say no, silence reigns over the room.

Mark clears his throat. "I think it's time for a toast. Anya, can we have a round of whatever the ladies want to drink?" He looks smug as he adds, "On me."

The women put away their boards, but I do see Emma, the smallest one, giving me the stink eyes. My mom is fast and shot glasses filled with amber liquid appear on the table in no time.

I stare at the glass before gazing at her. "Tequila?"

Mom smiles before raising her shot and downing it in one go. Everyone does the same. I'm utterly surprised that the knitting club is not as sweet as one would think of. Not wanting to appear to be the odd one, I do the same, scrunching up my nose because I rarely drink strong alcohol.

"You're welcome," Mark whispers beside me.

I turn to him. "For what?"

"For saving your ass back there! They were about to burn you alive or something." His gaze is trained on the ladies, and he brushes the sleeve of his shirt.

My lips twitch as I suppress a smile. "I didn't need your help, Mark." I cross my arms after leaning on my chair.

He chuckles. "Yes, you did. No worries, though. I got your back, because that's what friends do, right?"

The faint smile I had on my face vanishes. Damn it. I swear that if I hear him repeating that we're friends one more time, I'm gonna flip. 

I try not to smile, but it's hard. This whole friend's thing is pissing Kate. And the thing is, she looks amazing when she's pissed. I can't help it.

I don't even know how did this whole friendship thing started. It had been bothering me all week, and when she called me, I couldn't help but feel hopeful. The first thing that came to mind was that she actually liked hanging out with me. I grabbed on to that and boldly showed up on her house. 

I mean, I'm pretty awesome to hang out with. I shouldn't even have doubted that.

One of the knitting ladies is glaring at Kate. The old woman is small, but man, she seems scary. Placing a hand on Kate's back, I lead her away towards the counter, putting space between the mean lady and her.

"These ladies take the whole thing too seriously, don't they?" She mutters when we reach her mom, who nods her while a smile plays on her face.

Anya shakes her head before glancing at me."You really don't want to mess with them, sweetie."Her blue eyes are a shade lighter than Kate's, but I know that like her daughter, she's one woman that you don't want to mess with. "Thank you for saving my daughter."

See? I glance at Kate.

She rolls her eyes, crossing her arms. "I didn't need saving, Mom."

Ignoring her, I grin at Anya. "No need to thank me, Anya. It was my pleasure."

I'm pretty sure Kate is rolling her eyes again as her mom adds, "Well, why don't you join us for a late dinner, then? I made my famous beef roast recipe yesterday."

My smile widens. "That sounds great, thank you."

"Mom, maybe Mark has stuff to do. I mean, you all royals have a busy life all the time, don't you?" I turn to Kate, who's cheeks are flushed as she keeps rambling. "Thank you for letting me ride with you, but don't feel like you have to spend all the time with me. I know you have better things to do."

Facing her, I lean my arm on the counter, resting my chin on the back of my palm. "I don't." She blinks at me. "I'm happy to spend all weekend with you." Her blush intensifies. Bloody hell. She looks even prettier.

"But, but—"

I place a hand on her arm. "Actually, I was hoping you could join me tomorrow, there's a place I'd like to show you." Her eyes are mesmerizing as she stares at me. I could bet that she's trying to find a million reasons not to go, so in a soft voice, I add, "You're going to love it, Kate. I promise."

She bites her lip while tugging a strand of hair behind her ear. "Okay."

"Great."

Anya clears her throat. "So, dinner?" She takes off her apron and tells the other guy behind her counter to close the pub.

Kate's eyes widen. "Mom, you never leave work like this."

Anya grins at her daughter. "It's not every day that you drop in like this, either." She gazes at me. "Plus, we have a special guest tonight."

It's the first time I visit Anya's home, and I try not to ogle much, but I'm intrigued by knowing the place where Kate spent all her childhood. I even think of peeking inside her room, but that might be too much. I frown. Man, I have it bad.

There're so many things I'd like to know about Kate, and she doesn't seem eager to share. Hence, the stalking tendencies.

Anya's small house is fifteen minutes from the pub. It's painted in white and has a small set of stairs that lead to the front door. The paint is chipping in places, giving it a sort of vintage air. I'm silent as we walk inside. I observe everything as if it could give me a clue on Kate. And I need those clues. Kate is one tough girl to crack. No matter what I do or how charming I want to seem, nothing gets to her.

Well...she did call.

My lips curve. That's a start.

Anya asks us to help set the table as she reheats the stew. The house fills with the scent of sweet tomato mixed with spices. My stomach grumbles. I hardly have home cooked meals. It reminds me of the time when my mom was alive. She loved to cook for us, and beef stew was one of her favorite dishes. I stay quiet until Anya serves the food and we take a seat on the table.

Someone kicks me lightly under the table. I glance at Kate. "Are you okay?"

I stare at her for a moment. Her eyes have lit up by being back home, and her cheeks are slightly flushed. A wisp of hair is about to fall on her eyes and I have the urge to reach out and brush it to the side. Her lips part as she meets my stare and my stomach tightens. I lean back, raising both hands in mock surrender. "All good."

She tilts her head, studying me. "You look...quiet."

I crack a smile. "And that's unusual?"

She raises an eyebrow, almost snorting. "On you? Very."

I shake my head. "I'm saving my energy for tomorrow."

Looking wary, her brows furrow. "What's tomorrow?"

Wriggling my eyebrows, I smirk. "You'll find out," I grab my spoon and dip it in the stew, "tomorrow."

I don't have to look at her to know she's rolling her eyes, and I chuckle. 

Even though there's a lot of things I still don't know about Kate, I'm starting to get to know her reactions. That makes it all worth it. 

Hi guys! Here's the deal. When I write a new chapter, I have to plan it in my head and I sit down and write it, but if I don't like it, I rewrite it...several times. Until it feels right for me. I don't want to give you all a crappy story and that's why sometimes you feel like I take forever. Please know that I work really hard behind each update, and when I go back to read my comments and read all the "you update really slow comments," it makes me feel bad. Also, there's this girl that has been messaging me through Wattpad and email, and it's just an UPDATE message. Not even a please update or even thank you or whatever. I know that sometimes it's hard to realize that there's a person behind all of this, but this sort of stuff sucks. 

Sorry for my rambling, but I felt I needed to explain. I'm sorry if you feel I'm slow, but right now, it's the best I can do. 

Thank you.