Page 20 of Life After You

I’ve got one thing on my mind. And I’m done waiting.

“Ready or not, here I come.”

Chapter Seven

Kayla

The café was quiet, save for the soft murmur of voices and the occasional scrape of a chair against the floor. An elderly couple sat by the window, sharing a pot of tea, while two teenage girls, backpacks slung over their shoulders, placed their order with Patty. The clock on the wall read 8:15, and sunlight streamed through the windows, casting warm patches across the floor.

Clay and I approached the counter, his arm looped loosely through mine. Patty’s smile brightened when she spotted us. The girl’s turned, their gazes immediately landing on Clay. They exchanged whispers and giggles as they took their coffee’s andheaded for the door. Clay, oblivious or perhaps just amused, shot them a wink.

“Good mornin’, ladies.” He drawled, his easy charm on full display. The girls flushed crimson, ducking their heads as they hurried outside. I shook my head, stifling a laugh.

“Clay Thomson! Stop playing with young girls’ hearts and give me a hug, boy!” Patty scolded, stepping out from behind the counter. Clay grinned and didn’t hesitate, wrapping her in a warm embrace and dropping a kiss on her head.

“You’re the only one who has my heart, Pat,” he said, his tone light and teasing. “And I’ll sign it over to you forever if you get me one of those apple turnovers.”

Patty chuckled, ruffling his hair as though he were still a child. I bit back a laugh enjoying the exchange. The air smelled of apples and cinnamon, mingling with the aroma of freshly baked bread. It reminded me of weekends at home—of Braden and me helping Mom bake, sneaking tastes of the batter and licking the spoons clean. A pang of longing hit me, bittersweet and sharp, but I pushed it aside.

“You know, boy, if you keep eating all my pastries, you’re gonna turn into one,” Patty warned.

“It’s your fault for making them taste so good.” Clay shot back, flashing her a grin. Patty turned to me, still smiling. “It’s not fair, is it, Kayla? This boy here can eat whatever he wants and still stay lean, but if I so much as look at a candy bar, the doctor’s warning of diabetes.”

“What?!” I exclaimed, alarmed.

Clay snorted. “She’s joking, Kayla.” he whispered, his breath warm against my ear. Patty and Clay burst into laughter at my expense. I managed a sheepish smile, rolling my eyes as the bell above the door chimed. We all turned toward the sound. A man entered, his head bent as he spoke into a cell phone. A camera slung around his neck, and his clothes, board shorts, and anopen white shirt—gave him the look of a tourist. He glanced up, his tired eyes meeting ours. He ended his call abruptly, snapping the phone shut.

“Good morning. Black coffee to go, please.” he said, rummaging in his pocket for change. Patty’s eyes narrowed slightly, and I felt Clay stiffen beside me. I stepped forward, offering a polite smile.

“I’ll get that for you, sir.” Patty handed me an apron, and I tied it on, moving to the coffee machine. I could feel the tension rolling off Clay as he leaned against the counter, his posture rigid. When I glanced back, his gaze was locked on the man, his expression unusually guarded.

“You look familiar, love.” the man said, tilting his head as he studied me. My heart stuttered, but I kept my voice steady. “Oh? I get that a lot.” He didn’t respond right away, his eyes lingering on me a moment too long. I placed the coffee on the counter and pushed it toward him. His phone buzzed again, and he answered it quickly, sliding the money across the counter before leaving without another word. Clays voice broke the silence.

“I don’t like him. Did you see the way he was looking at you.”

“He’s probably just a tourist,” I said shrugging.

“Tourist or not, don’t leave here without Dean later, okay?” His protective tone caught me off guard, but I nodded. Patty took the money and disappeared into the kitchen without another word. Clay’s expression softened, but his usual cheer seemed to have dimmed.

“I’ll be right back,” he said, abandoning his pastry and coffee. I watched him slip into the kitchen and grabbed a dishcloth, wiping down the counter to busy myself. Just as I finished the bell chimed again. I look up, recognition widening my eyes as the redhead from the bathroom last night entered. Her face lit up when she saw me.

“Good morning! What can I get you?” I asked, smiling.

“Makayla,” she squealed, “I didn’t know you worked here.”

“It’s just Kayla.” I said gently, my smile widening.

“Oh, okay!” she winked dramatically, “I’m Amber.” She leaned across the counter, her perfume –a mix of chocolate and roses –wafting through the air.

“So, what do you think of Portland so far? Where are you staying?” Clay reappeared from the kitchen, his face lighting up when he spotted me. He grabbed his coffee and pastry, but his gaze lingered on Amber. “Hey, do I know you? You look familiar.” Amber’s cheeks turned pink.

“W-we have Biochemistry together. And Humanities.” Clay’s grin turned apologetic. “Sorry. I should have recognized you.” he paused studying her. “Hey, do you want a ride to school?”

“N-no, thanks,” she stammered. “I drive.”

The awkward silence stretched until Patty returned, a tray of pastries in hand. She glanced between Clay and Amber.

“Young love,” she muttered under her breath, before returning back to the kitchen. I smiled faintly, but my thoughts wandered. Braden, Logan and I had always been inseparable, our bond effortless and unbreakable. Thinking of those days felt like chasing shadows, fragments of a life I couldn’t quite piece together. Maybe one day, I’d stop feeling like I was searching for something just out of reach.

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