The Psychic Within

Chapter 14: Worse

The seconds ticked down. I quickened my pace across the crosswalk, waving and smiling at the cars that waited impatiently under the cruel midday sun. Even after last night, it was hard not to be happy. It was payday—my first official payday at the thrift store. It was exciting, even if I wasn't expecting a huge figure—as I had put all the purchases for Luc's store on my tab. But, still, it felt like progress. It was progress—I had actual money coming in! Bit by bit, my life was finally being pieced back together.

As I reached the other side of the street, I noticed that the tiny cafe on the corner was open again. Their renovations complete, they had pulled back the curtains and hung delicate string lights in scallops across the single window. I lingered for a moment, curious. My mouth began to water as I caught a whiff of the coffee inside.

Shifting on the balls of my feet, my gaze darted between the café and the thrift store next door. I deserved a treat, didn't I? It was payday, after all. My paycheque would still be at the store in ten minutes.

I dipped inside. The place was even smaller than it appeared on the outside, but its high ceiling prevented the single room from being claustrophobic. Exposed copper piping snaked overhead, wrapped with more strings of lights. Against the wide window were a few two-person booths. A single, long counter ran opposite, a lone barista behind it. He was wearing a denim shirt, and I wondered how he could in this heat.

He smiled expectantly as I approached the counter. "What can I get you today?"

I scanned the chalkboard menu that hung behind him. "How about—" My phone buzzed; A call. I dug frantically through my purse for it. Calls were rare these days; Luc and I usually just texted. Was it the thrift store, wondering where I was? I freed my phone and gasped when I saw the name on the screen. "Sorry, I have to take this," I mumbled, backing away from the counter.

The barista sighed.

I turned my back on them and dropped into one of the booths to answer the phone. "Polly!"

"Hi Rach," came the familiar husky voice on the other side. "You never responded to my text yesterday."

My stomach sank as I realized she was right. "Shit! I'm sorry! I got..." My voice trailed away when I realized why I hadn't called her back. A shiver crawled up my spine. "I got distracted."

She just laughed. "It's okay, I know."

"You do?" I paused, then frowned when it dawned on me. "Oh. Luc tattled on me again, huh?" Of course he would.

"I wouldn't call it tattling, Rach. It's not like we're your parents."

"I dunno, I sure feel like a kid when everyone I know rushes off to talk about me behind my back like I can't handle anything." The scene of finding Luc and Tory working in secret last night replayed in my head, and a flare of anger followed. Dickheads.

Polly clucked her tongue."I'm not going behind your back. I'm calling you, aren't I?"

"Yeah. Sorry," I said, feeling like a real ass. "It's just... I'm frustrated."

"I can tell. I take it Luc's being cagey again?"

"Uh-huh," I muttered, rubbing at the lines that were forming on my forehead. "When did he call you?"

"Last night. Late. He said you were sleeping, otherwise I would've said hi."

"Mmhmm. And what did he tell you?"

"Just that you had another encounter. Said he wanted to keep us informed."

I sighed. "Did he inform you what else he did last night?"