✽ Mandy ✽
I agreed to meet Paul because I was tired of living in my own head. After David disappeared and Wesley’s message made my stomach twist, I had spent days hovering over my phone. Paul, at least, had been steady. He never pushed. He just kept talking to me like I was a person. On Wednesday afternoon, I stood outside a little café called Maple and smoothed my sweater down for the third time. The windows glowed warm against the gray day, and the smell of roasted beans drifted onto the sidewalk. I checked my reflection in the glass. Sandy blonde hair, brushed and left loose. Light eyes that looked too watchful lately. I told myself to stop scanning the street and just wait. Paul arrived exactly on time, stepping up with a grin and a quick wave. He looked like his profile photo: neat,
