Chp. 25

"The shop closes in fifteen minutes," I mutter, "So I'd hurry if I were you."

She looks up at the clock hanging on the wall, and then turns to me and nods once. Sophie walks up to the shelves to buy her things as I focus on my job.

She doesn't mention anything about what happened the last time we met. And I'm ruddy glad. I don't want her reminding me of how I freaked out like an idiot. But I couldn't help it back then, and neither can I now. Whenever I see her, the book emerges in my mind. And it scares me every time. My heart starts thudding and I just wanna scream.

The fact that everyone keeps telling each other how she's changed doesn't make it any better. Quieter. Blank. Unreadable. She doesn't smile like she used to, they say.

And I think I know why she changed–

Do I know why she changed?–

She changed because of the same reason I changed–

"What the hay is going on here?" Garfield barks, pulling me out of my thoughts.

I scowl, "What?"

"Why's there a customer here at nine in the evening?" He demands, angrily.

I look down at my wrist watch. What do you know? Fifteen minutes past like lightening if you ask me.

I stare towards Sophie who's busily checking out stuff. Not even flinching at what's the commotion about. Like I said, unreadable.

And for some reason, I'm guilty. I mean, I feel guilty. As if I'm the reason this happened to her. Am I the reason it happened to her? I know she knows more than anyone else. Just like me. But the way she changed only makes me wonder if I did too. Because I'm finding myself normal. Is that what she thinks?

She gazes at me briefly probably wondering why I'm staring at her. I quickly turn away to Garfield, already feeling a red glow on my cheeks.

"It'll only take a minute." I explain. "I promise I won't let anyone else in."

"I darn tootin hope so!" He snaps.

He goes back to the storage room, slamming the door behind him. The sound of it echoes in the shop, as I continue my work. Checking out the cash register and rearranging things on the shelves.

I do it slowly, taking my time. Doing all of the things I'm supposed to. I mean, sure, I didn't want to work here at all. I hated this place and I still do. But I'm here now. Why not make the best of it, you know?

It takes a long time before I look up, satisfied with all my work. And I frown when I realize: She's still here. Why's she still here? She's going through everything slower than anything. It makes me a bit annoyed. Because I'm the one who'll have to hear hell from Garfield. Not her. So I walk up to her. But she's still not looking at me. Busily deciding between two preserves. It's like she's ignoring the whole world right now.

With a tight smile, I say, "Hi."

She nods, expressionless as ever.

"Want some help with this?" I ask, irritation reaching my nerves.

"No." She says. Nothing else.

I sigh, looking at the clock hung on the wall, "We were supposed to close almost an hour ago. You still being here will only get me in trouble."

She says nothing to that. Which only means that she doesn't care.

I look down at her cart. It's bloody empty! What is she doing here if she's not even buying anything?

And her face. It can be easily compared to a stone. Because she isn't talking. Her facial expressions blank. And it makes me a bit uneasy.

Like, why isn't she talking? Replying to what I'm saying? It's like I'm talking to air. She used to smile a lot. Why isn't she smiling now?

A sudden thought hits me as hard as a brick.

"Why are you here?" I ask, frowning slightly.

Because she isn't here cause she wants to buy groceries or whatever. She's here for a completely different reason. The same reason we met in the library. The same reason I ran away from there.

And I don't want this. I want her to leave. She's here because of the reason I've been avoiding. She's here because-

"I want to talk to you about that book." She says.

I hold my breath for a second. Not sure how to respond to that. Why doesn't she understand? I don't want to be rude to her or anything but she can't keep on pushing for me to tell her. I'm not obliged to. And anyway what will she get by knowing this?

"I'm not telling you anything." I say, firmly. "So there's no point for you to-"

"Did Jesse know about this book?" She asks, from nowhere.

Okay. I'm taken aback. A lot.

My eyes widen as I muster out, "What did you say?"

"You know what I mean." She replies, staring hard.

And I notice how tensed she is. How worried. How anxious.

I narrow my eyes, "What do you know exactly?"

She shakes her head, "Just answer me."

"No." I snap, "I'm not telling you anything. How many times am I supposed to repeat that?"

"Tell me, Lukas!" She yells, so loud that her voice echoes around the room and hits me right back.

Didn't I mention that I'm an extremely stubborn person?

"You need to go," I say, calmly, the same tactic I used with Marcus, "Now."

"I'm not going anywhere." She hisses. "Until you tell me every single thing you know."

And the fierce look on her face doesn't even look like something Sophie would do.

I cross my arms, "Oh yeah? No one can make me tell you, now can they?"

"But you have to!" She shouts again.

It reminds me of that time when I yelled at Rickson to tell me what happened to me the night before. And he was just perplexed. He had no idea why I was freaking out. But right now. I know what she wants to know.

And it's a wonder why Garfield still isn't here.

"I won't tell you. You're the last person I'll tell you to."

"Why?" She sneers, and at that moment, I knew the sweet Sophie the town knew was gone, "Because I'm Skylar's sister?"

I pause. Is that the reason? Is that really the reason for me to not tell her? Or do I just want to keep everyone safe? I don't know.

And then, she says something that breaks my thoughts.

"Please, Luke."

I scowl in confusion as she pleads.

"I can't take this anymore. I really can't. You need to tell me the things you know."

Again she says,

"Please."

I don't know what to do. Give in?

But something's stopping me. Because is it really that easy for her? Why isn't she struggling like I once did? No one answered me when I wanted to know. Hell, I got arrested for all this. But she's standing in front of me and she knows I'll answer. And…and it's not fair. (Am I jealous of her? Am I really jealous of her because she don't have to go through trouble like I did?)

These thoughts should have shamed me. But I don't feel myself embarrassed.

Because she knows I'll answer. She knows I don't have any other option. She's doing this on purpose. She's making me tell her in her own way.

But I don't want to.

But she's pleading like that.

And it reminds me of… myself.

I take a deep breath.

She wants to know what I think? Then I'll ruddy tell her.

"I only know one thing that'll interest you." I say, in a harsh tone.

But she ignores it. Her eyes lit up with hope, "You do?"

I swallow the lump of regret and guilt in my throat. Should I tell her?

She wants me to.

"The only thing I know is that your sister, Skylar, is a bloody liar. For all I know she's the one who killed Jesse and all those girls. I don't even think that. Cause guess who's the person whose been acting like a suspicious freak lately? I don't know why everyone's so blind because they clearly can't see her going in front of an abandoned café every –"

"Tuesday." She finishes.

Now it's my turn to be in shock. My lips part as I raise my eyebrows in disbelief.

She stares at me, but her eyes are still hard to read.

I frown, "You…?" I don't know what to say.

She manages a sad smile, answering my unasked question.

She knows.

Hell, she didn't even hesitate to answer.

"We've got a lot of explaining to do to each other, Lukas Wells." She says.

And all I can muster is, "You think?"