Chapter Six
1835 Words
Sometimes, healing sounds like laughter coming from the other side of a café booth.
⸻
"Zara!"
A voice rang out across the café like sunshine on a rainy damn day.
I looked up, startled—half expecting another cruel twist of fate. Another rumor. Another Reed Carter in a different body. But instead...
Jade.
There she was, waving with the kind of energy that made you forget why you were sad in the first place. Big smile. Gold hoops. Hot pink nails. And a buttery yellow two-piece set that looked like it had been styled by an i********: influencer with a ring light addiction.
She looked ridiculously good for a random Friday coffee run.
I stood frozen for half a second, then grinned so hard it almost hurt. I made my way over as she practically bounced out of the booth and pulled me into a hug that smelled like vanilla body mist and loyalty.
"God, you look—grown!" she said, holding me at arm's length like I was some museum exhibit. "Look at you! Eyeliner sharp as hell. Hair laid. Booty booting. Like okay!"
I laughed so loud it turned heads. "Please. You've got lashes that could fly you to Cancun."
She flipped her curls dramatically. "That's the goal."
Sitting across from her was Lena, who I only knew from Jade's chaotic voice notes and the occasional stolen FaceTime. This was our first time meeting in person, and of course, she looked exactly like I imagined—dark lipstick, box braids to the waist, crop top and combat boots like she just left a protest and a poetry slam.
Lena raised her iced coffee. "So this is the infamous Zara Peteman. The one with the voice note breakdown about the boy and the bleachers."
My soul left my body.
Jade smirked, sipping from her Frappuccino like she wasn't the one who'd clearly shared the drama. "Okay, but I only gave her the summary version!"
I narrowed my eyes. "You said, and I quote: 'I'm a vault, babe. Locked and loaded.'"
"I am! But Lena's got a skeleton key," Jade said sweetly. "Besides, you never said it was off the record."
Lena laughed. "I like her. She's got main character energy and deeply questionable taste in men."
I burst out laughing. "That is... horrifyingly accurate."
We slid into the booth and for the first time in what felt like weeks, I didn't feel like I had to shrink myself to fit the room. The café was cozy and loud, with the smell of cinnamon rolls and overpriced espresso filling the air. The kind of place that felt like you could say anything and the walls wouldn't remember.
"Okay," Jade said, clapping her hands together. "You have exactly five minutes to tell us everything that's happened since you got to Willow Ridge. Leave nothing out. Especially if it's illegal, dramatic, or involves anyone with a jawline sharp enough to ruin lives."
Lena leaned in. "I second this. I need names, GPA rankings, scandals, and if the gym teacher's hot."
I groaned. "You guys, it's not that wild."
Both of them stared at me like I'd just said water wasn't wet.
"Girl, the video?" Lena said, eyebrows up. "The locker note? The whole blackmail vibe? Reed Carter literally being a Greek tragedy in varsity form? And you're saying it's not wild?"
Jade blinked. "Zara, sweetie. You've accidentally enrolled yourself into a CW teen drama and are now in season two."
"Honestly," Lena said, sipping her drink, "we're one mysterious car crash away from Pretty Little Liars."
I buried my face in my hands. "I hate it here."
They laughed and Jade gently pulled my hands down. "But seriously—how are you?"
And that was the question that almost cracked me open. Because I didn't have to lie right now. Not to them.
I shrugged, and for once it wasn't a deflection—it was the truth. "Better now."
Lena nodded. "You seem lighter. Like, I don't know, less haunted by the sins of privileged boys."
I giggled so hard I snorted. "That's very specific."
"It's my specialty," she said. "Sniffing out men who are secretly the final boss."
Jade smirked. "She once dated a guy who had 'loyalty' tattooed on his collarbone and couldn't spell 'February'."
"That's a learning disability, Jade!"
"No," Jade deadpanned. "That was you being blinded by arm veins."
I was wheezing. I hadn't laughed like this in so long. My cheeks actually hurt.
We talked for an hour. About Reed. About school. About life in Savannah and how it still felt foreign, even though I'd lived here before. Lena told stories about her chaotic cousin who accidentally set a toaster on fire during a t****k dance challenge. Jade made us do a compatibility quiz she found on Pinterest titled "Would You Survive as a Trio in a Dystopian YA Novel?"
(Spoiler: I'd die first. Jade would become a dictator. Lena would lead the resistance.)
Somewhere between the third refill and the blueberry muffin we split like a sacred offering, I realized—
I felt okay.
I felt like me.
Like the me I used to be, before the party, before the fight, before Willow Ridge turned into a chessboard I didn't ask to play on.
For the first time in weeks, I wasn't holding my breath.
I wasn't looking over my shoulder.
I wasn't Reed Carter's secret, or Skylar's scapegoat.
I was Zara Peteman, laughing too loud in a café booth with girls who knew me before the mess.
Girls who didn't want anything from me but me.
And that?That felt like coming home.
⸻
I was still smiling when I left the café.
Warmth buzzing under my skin, laughter still clinging to my throat like honey. For the first time in what felt like months, the world didn't feel like it was made of sharp edges.
The evening air was cool, soft like velvet on my arms. The sky above Savannah was streaked with lilac and gold, and I walked slower than usual, dragging the moment out—unwilling to let it go just yet.
Then my phone buzzed.
I thought it was Jade, maybe Lena, sending one last meme or chaotic recap.
But it wasn't.
It was him.
Reed Carter.
Friday| 6:47 PM
Reed: You busy?
I frowned at the message. Why was he asking?
Zara: Why?What do you want?
Reed: Come walk with me.
Zara: Why? Last I checked, we r not friends.
Reed: Can you just chilll? I'm already here.
Zara:Are you stalking me now orrrr 😐
Reed: Only a little. Come on. It won't kill you.
Zara: Fine. But if this turns into another mind game, I'm leaving.
Reed: Fair.
You in or not?
Zara: 👍
Reed: See you around the corner.
I stopped in my tracks.
What the hell? I turned my head, slowly.
And there he was, leaning against the lamppost at the end of the street like he was posing for a movie poster. Hoodie. Hands in his pockets. That unreadable look on his face that always made me feel like he was seeing right through me.
I could've said no. Should've said no.
But I didn't.
We walked in silence for a few blocks, just the sound of our footsteps and the cicadas buzzing in the trees. I half expected him to start in on school, or Skylar, or the flaming circus that was our "arrangement." But he didn't.
He just walked. And after a while, so did I.
"You always walk like that?" he asked finally, glancing at me sideways.
"Like what?"
"Like your brain is twenty seconds ahead of your feet."
I scoffed. "Better than walking like you've got a mixtape playing in your head and you think you're the main character."
He smirked. "Who says I'm not?"
I shook my head, but I was smiling. Against my better judgment.
We passed a low brick wall outside an empty playground. I hopped up and started balancing on it, arms out like a tightrope walker. Reed followed beside me on the sidewalk, watching.
"What were you doing before this?" he asked.
"Coffee with a friend."
"Just one?"
"Two."
He gave a soft grunt. "You seemed... different."
"Different how?"
"Lighter."
I paused. "Maybe I just forgot how it feels to laugh without looking over my shoulder."
Reed didn't say anything for a second. Then, quietly: "That's what I was trying to give you."
I looked at him, not ready for the softness in his voice.
"You've got a weird way of showing it."
"I know."
We kept walking. Eventually, we ended up at the little wooden dock on the edge of Crenshaw Pond. The sky was dark now, stars spilling across it like someone had cracked open a jewelry box.
Reed sat on the edge and motioned for me to join him.
We didn't talk for a while.
Not because we were comfortable—we weren't.
It was a different kind of silence. The kind that settled between two people who didn't quite know what they were to each other yet. Not friends. Not enemies. Just two secrets, sitting on a dock, pretending the world didn't feel like it was closing in.
We listened instead. To the frogs, the wind, the water lapping against the wooden boards beneath our feet. Nature had no clue what kind of mess we were.
Or maybe it did.
"Did you always want to stay here?" I asked, my voice breaking the quiet.
He didn't look at me. "In Savannah?"
"Yeah."
Reed shrugged. "Didn't think about leaving until recently."
I turned toward him, just slightly. "What changed?"
He hesitated. Then, calmly. "You came back."
I blinked. "What?"
He finally looked at me. "You asked. I answered."
I rolled my eyes, annoyed at the way my stomach flipped. "Seriously?"
"I am serious."
I hated how those three words wrapped around something in me like a hand closing over a trigger. I hated that I believed him.
"Don't say things like that," I muttered, looking away.
"Why not?"
"Because it feels like you mean them."
He didn't laugh. Didn't tease. "Maybe I do."
And just like that , I felt the air shift. He leaned in, eyes on mine, close enough that I could smell the faint scent of cedar and soap again.
Close enough that my pulse stuttered. Close enough that I wasn't sure I'd stop him this time.
His fingers brushed mine—barely.
Then—
A car horn blared down the street.
I flinched. Reed pulled back, blinking like he'd forgotten we were still in the real world.
We sat frozen for a second. The spell broken.
The moment... undone.
"I should go," I whispered, standing quickly.
"Zara—"
But I was already stepping off the dock, breath shaky, heart a full-blown earthquake.
"Thanks," I said, voice too high, too fast. "For the walk."
He didn't follow me.
He just sat there.
Watching.
Like he'd let me go—but wasn't done with me yet.
- Writer
