Daydreamer by Shauntel Anette

Author:Shauntel Anette [Anette, Shauntel]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-05-28T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter 17

Great. Great going Katarina—Kate, whatever the hell my name is. I tried convincing myself over and over that that was best; I needed to push him away, to keep him in the dark for his protection. That was what I needed to do, that was what my brain said. But my heart said something different. My heart beat ferociously, which is the opposite of how I thought it was functioning.

I didn’t look at Chelsea when I walked into the apartment. I avoided eye contact, and for the first time in a while, I went into my room for comfort. Considering what literally just happened in my room, I thought this would be the last place I’d go. Once I get to my bed, I had the urge to turn around and run for it. Where? Probably back to Chris’s, or maybe the Police Station, to my parents’ . . .right now, I wanted to be anywhere but here. I poke my head out of my bedroom door and yell, “Chels,”

“Huh?” She says from the kitchen. I heard clanking and clinging, so I follow the sounds. When I get to the kitchen, I see Chelsea whipping something up in the kitchen.

“BLT?” I ask her, stepping closer.

“BLT,” She repeats. “This is the meal that we had when we first started with the police, I’m not sure if that’s when everything started, but let’s just say so. Let’s say we ate this in the beginning, and we will eat and toast to the ending.” She rants.

“But it’s not—” I try,

“Yes, it is, just amuse me. If we believe it’s over, it’d be easier to move on.” She continued. I sit at our small, circular table and prepare to eat. I smile up at my savior, Chelsea the Great, as she presents my sandwich in front of me. She smiles back; it looked like she felt forced, like she was only doing this for my sanity. I ignore that glint of doubt and keep smiling. Maybe we both were faking it.

We eat peacefully, not awkwardly, but another person would have pushed this conference over the edge; which made me think of Travis and taking him to dinner. Maybe I could just video chat him, it’d be normal for us.

When we finish the sandwiches, Chelsea volunteers to wash out those few dishes after I told her my plans. This was it. I walked to the living room where Chelsea’s laptop lye, slowly, like if I walked too hard or too fast the apartment would fall apart. When I finally sit, I glance back up at Chelsea and then back down at the laptop screen.

I slowly type in the web address, and then I take a deep breath. I don’t know why I was so nervous. Maybe because of how we left things, or . . . I don’t know.

He wasn’t online. I don’t have his number. After I find that the little online light by his username was dull, I exhaled the breath I realized I’d been holding.

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