Jordan was early. Way too early. About half an hour or so. While wandering up to the coffee shop where he had agreed to meet Christine Green, he contemplated whether he should go inside right away or kill some time by walking another lap around the block. The latter option would save him the awkwardness of sitting alone at a table.

The smell of delicious coffee wafting by made the decision for him. Jordan had stayed up writing questions for Araminta's sister until the sun peered in between the blinds and Kiki started yowling for breakfast so he could use the caffeine and sugar injection from a double vanilla fudge latte. Usually, Jordan drank his coffee black, with no sugar, milk, or other frills, but Derek had introduced him to this sweet intoxicating brew during their extended study sessions in the library.

Upon stepping into the sleek coffee shop, with reflecting glass surfaces and a mural of a skyline on the main wall, Jordan discovered a line to the register. Like any self-respectable modern citizen, Jordan pulled out his phone to distract himself while queuing. A message from Derek waited for him.

"Are you there yet?" his friend asked.

"Just stepped into the shop," Jordan replied."Gonna order one of those lethal concoctions you got me hooked on."

"Sweet!" Derek replied, accompanied by a string of sweets-related emojis, and, for some reason, a koala. He may have mistyped. "I'm eager to know what you'll find out."

"You're gonna have to wait until the next episode then..." Jordan teased, knowing full well he would get online and tell Derek everything as soon as he arrived home.

"As if..." Derek replied, followed by an emoji with its tongue out, and another koala. Maybe it was his signature emoji or something. The cute round face of the marsupial did remind Jordan of Derek, so it fit.

Noticing that the person before him in line had just made their order, Jordan stuffed his phone back in his pocket. Before he could look up, he was surprised to hear his name called from beyond the counter.

"You're Jordan Thompson, right?" the barista asked. "Do you remember me from high school?"

Her peppy pigtails were replaced with a messy bun and instead of sporting a revealing crop top, she wore a coffee-stained polo shirt. The peppy cheerleader that Jordan remembered had become a working woman. But the smile on those ever-red lips couldn't be mistaken.

"Val?" He exclaimed. "Of course... I know who you are. But—" He stopped himself before asking how on earth she remembered him. They'd never exchanged a word in high school, and Jordan certainly wasn't one to stand out from a crowd like Valeria Morovskaya.

"I've listened to your podcast," she explained, answering the question he hadn't asked. "I..." She looked around as if checking that her manager wasn't eavesdropping. "I think about her often. Araminta, I mean. Could I come over to your table in a bit? I can start my break as soon as my coworker arrives. There is something I want to tell you."

Jordan nodded, taken by surprise by the request. He had seen Araminta talking with Valeria once but he hadn't considered that the popular cheerleader may be as affected as him by the moody goth chick's vanishing act.

With a sweet foam-topped beverage in his hand, on which Valeria had created a wavy pattern of cocoa powder, Jordan found a seat at a corner table in the back. He planned to record his conversation with Christine, if she agreed to it, and wanted to make sure the ambiance was as optimal as possible, despite the public nature. She was the one who had suggested the coffee shop as a meeting spot and since Jordan didn't want to risk her declining the interview, he hadn't protested.

Taking a sip of vanilla-infused brew, Jordan pulled up his phone and notepad, preparing to read through his interview guide once again. Another message from his best and most impatient friend made Jordan snicker. "What about now?" Derek wrote. "Is she there yet?" Followed by, of course, a trio of koala emojis.

Jordan was about to reply that Derek should go lay in a bush to look for butterflies while he waited when a plate of chocolate chip cookies was pushed in front of him.

"They're on the house," Valeria informed Jordan, sitting down opposite of him. She cradled a big teacup between fingers adorned with chipped pink nail polish.

Jordan gratefully grabbed a cookie, using it as a distraction while he tried to figure out Valeria's objective in talking to him. Someone as cool and popular as her had to have an ulterior motive to approach someone like him. "You wanted to tell me something..." he started when the girl opposite of him remained mute, fiddling with the strings of her apron.

Valeria nodded. "I did... I do, I mean," she mumbled. "I'm just... trying to figure out where to start." There was a glint of something he recognized in her eyes. Uncertainty and nervousness. Valeria's gaze had never been anything but confident and proud in high school. Although maybe that had just been a disguise.

Realizing he wasn't being a very good journalist at the moment, caught up in high school memories, Jordan pulled out his recorder and put it on the table."Before you say anything, I wanted to ask if I can record this?" The words felt clumsy as they left his mouth but he knew the importance of getting consent before pressing Record and if the message Valeria wanted to impart was in regards to Araminta, Jordan wanted it saved on tape.

Valeria looked down into her tea, seemingly taken aback by the question. "No..." she mumbled. "I don't... want anyone else to hear this. Whatever I say stay between us. From your episodes, I can tell you cared about Araminta, and so did I. That's why I want you to know what happened between us."

"Of course," Jordan replied, quickly putting away the recorder while redness spread on his cheeks. He felt stupid for even asking. Not every conversation had to be made into content. A sip of sweet-milky coffee washed away his embarrassment.

"She was my friend," Valeria started with a faint smile on overly glossy lips. "When we were kids, I mean. We met in Kindergarten and we were inseparable. My family had just moved here from Russia, and I barely spoke English yet. So I struggled to connect with other kids. But Araminta didn't care if I picked the wrong word or said nothing at all. We could just sit next to each other, drawing or cutting out paper dolls."

Having moved around a lot when he was around that age, Jordan wished he'd made a friend like that. Someone who didn't care whether what he said was cool or smart enough. Someone he could just be himself with. "That sounds nice," he said.

"It was," Valeria confirmed. "I wish... I still had that. But I threw it away." She sighed, taking another sip of tea.

"How?" Jordan asked, unable to fight his journalistic curiosity even though his recorder was turned off.

"I pushed her away. When we started junior high, being cool and popular started to be so important. I tried out for the cheerleading team on a whim and got accepted. That's when I realized I could be one of them. I didn't have to be poor little Valeria who could barely speak English and who wore clothes her mother had sewn. Because if I put my mind to it, my accent wasn't noticeable anymore, and if I pulled on my cheerleading uniform, I looked like any all-American girl."

"And what about Araminta?"

"She wasn't cool nor popular. I don't think she wanted to be. Or she couldn't. Speaking to people never came easy to her. She was always in her own world, a world I once was a part of. We used to play in the woods behind her house together, pretending to be warrior princesses, mighty witches, and sparkling unicorns. Whatever we wanted to be. I don't think she ever really left that world. But I did. And I didn't take her with me."

"What do you mean? What did you do?"

"I never intentionally hurt her. I even tried to include her in activities with my new friends. But then came the party..."

"The party?" Jordan was surprised Araminta had even gone to a party, as she, like him didn't seem like the type to enjoy such gatherings. Although he had relished the party last weekend in Derek's company.

"We were around fifteen, I guess, and a classmate had a pool party. I invited Araminta along. The party became quite noisy though and some boys started splashing water, so I suggested to Araminta that we'd retreat to a gazebo in the garden. It was much calmer there and we could talk like we used to. She laughed and smiled again. And that's when..." Valeria looked down, seemingly afraid to meet Jordan's gaze. "That's when she kissed me."

"Oh..." was all Jordan could say, remembering a certain sparkle in Derek's eyes when they stood on the balcony together.

"I wasn't prepared for it," Valeria continued. "In my surprised state, I pulled back and I left. I didn't know what to do. I didn't know... if that's something I wanted if you know what I mean. I didn't tell anyone about what happened though, I swear."

"But someone found out?"

Valeria nodded, expelling a deep sigh. "I guess someone at the party must have seen us because when I came to school the next Monday, the rumors were already ablaze. They said she had bewitched me somehow."

"Did you talk to her after that?"

"I tried... but Araminta refused to talk to me. She was convinced I was the one who had told everyone. She withdrew even more after that, starting to dress in all black and putting on dark makeup. And she always carried a book, perhaps to distract from the fact that she was sitting alone most of the time. Because sitting alone with nothing to do makes loneliness more apparent. She made it seem like she chose loneliness instead of the other way."

That was how Araminta had always seemed to Jordan; like someone purposely shunning company. But perhaps that had just been an act because pretending like you didn't want company was better than admitting the truth of no one wanting your company. Which could turn into a vicious circle when no one dared to approach anymore. Jordan knew those patterns all too well because he too had followed them.

But Derek had somehow made all the circles come askew, moving into a new, more beautiful, pattern. But Valeria's story made Jordan worry that a faulty step may make it all turn to dust.

"I never knew..." Jordan mumbled. "I didn't move here until high school so I didn't know her any other way."

Valeria nodded, finishing up her tea. "You only knew Araminta, while I knew Amanda."

"Amanda?"

"That was her birth name. She changed it the summer after the party, right before we started high school. I don't know why."

Because she met a certain witch perhaps? Jordan's head was spinning from this new intel.

"Did you ever try to make amends with her during high school?" Jordan asked.

"I did." Valeria sighed. "I tried to talk to her several times but she still refused to hear me out. One time, some of my teammates heard us squabbling and started to giggle about Araminta bewitching me again. Perhaps she did..."

"Why do you say that?"

"I broke my ankle senior year." Val bent down to pat her left leg. "It was the day after that argument actually. The injury made me lose out on a cheerleading scholarship. So now, I'm here." She laughed a bit too loudly, gazing around her workplace.

"It's not too bad," Jordan tried, looking around the glossy coffee shop.

Valeria shrugged. "It is what it is and I'm just sticking around until I've saved up money for culinary school anyway. I suppose I wouldn't have known cooking was what I wanted to do if I had received that scholarship. I suppose I would still be trying to be cool and popular."

"So maybe a blessing rather than a curse?"

"I like to think so. I like to think Araminta was looking out for me in some way. So if you find her... even if she doesn't want anyone to know where she is, please tell her that. Tell her I'm sorry and that whether she cursed me or not, she got me on the right path, even if it's been a more arduous one."

"I will," Jordan promised. "If I find her." He sighed, knowing that was a long shot.

"Anyway, I've kept you long enough." Valeria rose, flashing a patented peppy cheerleader smile. "You know where to find me if there is anything else you wonder about. I'll be right there." She pointed to the counter.

While Valeria strode away, Jordan quickly pulled out his notepad, trying to get everything Araminta's friend had told him on paper before he forgot. Even if he couldn't use it in the podcast, the details could be important for him to understand Araminta's mindset when she disappeared.

"Are you Jordan Thompson?"

Having completely forgotten his reason for being in the coffee shop, Jordan looked up to gaze upon a blonde woman with distinct soccer mom vibes. She looked nothing like Araminta, except for a rebellious dark streak in her eyes. That's how he knew who she was. This was Christine Green, Araminta's sister.