|a n d r e w|
🌊

"I said I was sorry, like, a million times. Just get over it."

"How am I supposed to get over that phone call last night? You scared me half to death, Aspen."

She doesn't meet my eyes. "I was overreacting. I'm sorry."

A large family walks through the double doors to The Monsoon, catching Aspen's attention. She scoops up a stack of menus and steps toward the family, but I hold a hand out to stop her. Her hesitant hazel eyes meet mine.

"I don't think you were, and I'm not going to leave you alone until you tell me what's up." Before she can react, I snatch the menus from her hands and hold them under my arm and out of her grasp.

"Andrew," she warns, sending me a glare. I cock my head to the side with an innocent smile and hold the menus above my head. She groans and hops up and down, trying to reach them. "Give them back, I have a table to wait!"

"Oh, you can have them back," I smirk, "when you spill your guts."

"You're going to get us in trouble with Mr. Kendrick!"

"I could care less what Mr. Boss-Man says; he needs all the help around here he can get."

"Fine, I'll tell you," she caves, making me smile, but it drops again when she adds, "after I wait that table."

"Fine."

She sends me a look as she takes the menus back and heads off to the impatient family sitting at a table in the corner of the restaurant.

I wait patiently at the register up at the front. We don't get much business in the morning, so I just stand with my chin in my palm and a bored expression on my face as Aspen hands out the menus with an apologetic smile. As she slides out her notepad and pen, ready to take orders for drinks, I let my gaze slide around the restaurant. The only other people in here are an elderly couple sitting in a booth in the middle of the room and another employee slouched down in a corner booth. I squint at him and realize it's Will on his phone. I almost snort; of course the boss's son is slacking.

"So, what do you want to know?" Aspen asks, bustling past me towards the kitchen to fill up the family's drinks. I trail loosely behind her, sneaking a peek at the list of five drinks on her notepad. She fills three of them up as I fill up the other two.

"What did you mean by it's happened before and why did you hang up on me right after that?" I ask, holding three full glasses in my arms.

Aspen, who carries the other two drinks, sighs, "To answer your second question, I hung up because I thought that you thought I was crazy and wouldn't want to be my friend anymore."

"And the first question?" I prompt.

"It's just happened before, alright? People in Mångata have the tendency to disappear. It all started four years ago, but that's all I know about it."

I purse my lips and lean in closer so no one hears our conversation, though hardly anyone is here. "I found something in the town's newspaper that I think you should see." I slip a folded piece of the newspaper article I found this morning into Aspen's pocket since her hands are full. She sends me a confused look, but she masks it with a charming smile as we deliver the drinks to the large family's table. I motion towards the article before walking back to my spot behind the register, leaving Aspen to take orders.

After a minute or two she returns, handing the list to the chef in the kitchen, whom I forgot was even there. We stand together against the wall behind the counter as she unfolds the newspaper article cautiously. Her hazel eyes scan the words and she gasps, slapping a hand to her mouth.

"Poor Darcey!" she exclaims in a hushed tone so as not to disturb the others. She drops the flimsy newspaper, letting it flutter to the tiled ground. Her eyes fill with tears as she looks up at me, horror-stricken. I hold my arms out and she collapses into me, squeezing the oxygen out of my lungs.

"I knew what happened, I just— seeing it makes it, you know, real," she sputters into my shirt. I nod and run my hands over her back comfortingly.

"At least it wasn't, you know, murder like you thought," I say, then cringe.

She pulls back from me and stares into my eyes. "No, I know she was murdered."

I furrow my eyebrows. "But the article says it was a suicide—"

"Listen to me, Andrew," she interrupts, grabbing both sides of my face with her soft hands. Her eyes flicker between mine with a serious glint in them. "It. Was. Murder."

🌙

"This is a family vacation and we've basically spent none of it together. This is getting ridiculous," Mom nags as Rose and I step into the beach house together. On my way home from work I passed by Will and Teo's house, which had the garage door open so I could see Rose and Teo pinning stuff to a wall. When I entered the garage to ask what they were doing Rose pushed me out and said that she could walk home with me, which brings us here.

I shove my hands in my pockets with a nonchalant shrug. "What are you talking about? We've spent a lot of time together. Right, Rose?"

"Yeah, uh, right," she stutters, then furrows her eyebrows as an afterthought. "Actually, we haven't."

"A family vacation is supposed to bring the family together, not isolate us into our own worlds. Doug, you—Oh for pete's sake, Doug!" Mom snaps at my dad, who hasn't been listening to a word she was saying. He sets the newspaper he was reading down as he peers innocently at my mother.

"Yes?"

"Ugh, fine," mom groans, throwing the towel she was folding to the ground. She stares Dad in the eye before moving on to everyone else. "I'm going to the bay to see the mångata tonight."

Dad stands up. "I'll come with you."

"Oh that's okay, I wouldn't want to take time away from your precious newspaper," Mom snaps and steps out of the room. Dad sends Rose and me an annoyed eye roll before trailing after mom down the hallway to continue their trivial argument. Rose spins on her heel to face me with a quizzical expression.

"Well, what are we going to do now?" she asks. I eye the television remote sitting precariously on the arm of the couch.

My eyes flicker back to Rose's for a split second before I state, "I call the TV," and sprint the few feet between the front door and the living room. I hop over the back of the couch and land softly on the cushions, grabbing the remote before my sister can swipe it away. The wind is suddenly knocked out of my lungs as my aforementioned sister tackles me.

"No! No, Andrew! All you watch is dumb car shows!" she exclaims, wrestling with me for the remote.

"And all you watch are dumb TLC shows!"

With her arms crossed, Rose harrumphs and sinks into the couch beside me. I grin in victory and flip through the channels. Rose suddenly jumps up and shouts, "STOP!"

I wince and hold a hand to my ear before turning to look at what she's so adamant on watching. I settle back into the couch cushions when I hear the familiar rapped theme song.

"In West Philadelphia, born and raised, on the playground is where I spent most of my days. Chillin out, maxin out, relaxin all cool, shootin some b-ball outside the school," we sing along, completely content. "When a couple of kids, they were up to no good, started making trouble in my neighborhood. I got in one little fight and my mom got scared. She said, "You're moving with your auntie and uncle in Bel Air.""