Trystan Bodin /// Thursday, January 6th, 10:12 a.m.

When a town is small, word gets around quick when something interesting is going on. Our town was small, and you were interesting. So pretty soon everyone knew everything there was to know about you.

It seemed I was always the only one out of the loop, which Arden constantly complained about. He's my best friend and I love him, sure, but sometimes I can't stand the small-town gossip. I did want to know about you, though.

So, when he picked me from my cold, small apartment, coffee and éclairs in hand, the pull of the bed was weaker than normal. The smell wafted out of the cup, and I still wanted to stay home, but damn that smelled good.

"Best way to get you out and about is to bring caffeine and food." He joked. Though it was probably more true than it should've been.

I rolled my eyes, then thanked him anyway, reaching for the coffee.

He pulled it closer to him, a grin on his face. "Nope. You don't get it till we're out of the building."

I groaned, but complied, throwing on my jacket and boots and marching down the hall.

"Forgot to lock your door," Arden called. I walk back, flipping him off. He just smiles at me as I lock my door. And, much to my annoyance, I smile back. He's just so unassuming and familiar that way. Friendly and trusting to a fault, though I won't point it out. Just give a gentle nudge when someone is off.

We walked down the hallway, and I shoved my hands into my jacket pockets, fiddling with the loose change I found in them. They were cold in my hands. I felt over them, doing some guesswork and then a bit of math.

Seventy-five cents. Two quarters, two dimes, and a nickel. I pulled the change out of my pocket, counting it up. Seventy-five.

We stepped out of the building, and I shoved the change back into my pockets. The air was thin and harsh from the cold, stinging numbness into the tips of my fingers. I really need to invest in some nicer gloves. We breathed out fog, and I tugged my jacket tighter around me. Maybe a nicer jacket too.

I stopped, turning to Arden. "Can I have my damn coffee now?" I asked. He laughed, then nodded, handing it to me.

I gulped it down greedily, the liquid burning my throat as I swallowed. But it warmed my stomach and tasted like heaven, so I decided it was worth it. We start walking again, silently. I know where we’re going, so I don’t ask any questions.

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Snow was still falling, though at a considerably slower rate. It left the ground slick with ice and slush, crunching and sliding under our feet. I was glad I grabbed my boots since they gave me extra stability.

It didn’t take long for us to arrive at the trail, and then it was only a short walk across the muddy gravel to the bridge. The air smelled of musk and pine, and I brushed some of the fallen pine needles off the bridge. We sat down in the new pine-needle-free spot, legs dangling through the posts and over the icy water below. Arden set the box of eclairs in between us, and I tossed it open, picking one up.

Arden did the same, chewing slowly before asking, "You heard about the new girl who just came into town? Sylvia's granddaughter?" I almost laughed. I knew this was coming, Arden always has his eyes and ears open for gossip.

Instead, I nodded, drinking down the rest of my coffee. "Yeah, she came 'round the shop on Monday."

Arden's eyes widened. "You saw her?" He asked.

I nodded again. His mouth gaped open. "Well, what'd she look like? Nobody's seen more than a glimpse of her."

I shrug. "Tall, maybe five-eight. Her eyes are green. She's got short, brown, curly hair, and her skin is fairly pale."

Arden nods. “She seem nice?”

“Couldn’t say.” I shrugged again. “She doesn’t exactly seem like the social type, but that doesn’t mean she isn’t nice.” I elaborated.

“Huh,” Arden said. “Anything else you’ve been keeping from me?” He joked, nudging into my shoulder.

“Nope.” I think for a moment. “Actually yes. She had an accent. Something Eastern European that I still can't place."

I added, “And style-wise? European biker chick.”

Arden barked out a laugh, nodding. “Got it. I’ll be on the lookout for the tall, antisocial, European, biker chick.” He turned to face me."My mom says she's bad news."

I snorted. "Your mom thinks I'm bad news."

He shrugged. “That’s fair. Though it’s probably because she thinks you stole her gold earrings.”

I laughed. “I never took those damn earrings. Initially, though, it was because she thought we were dating and I was going to distract you from school and football.”

"She was half right." He quips.

"Whatever you say, college boy." I snorted.

He scoffed playfully. "Like you can talk, drop out."

"It's called taking a gap year, asshat. And should you even be smoking right now?" I asked, gesturing to the cigarette in his hands. When did he even light that?

He shrugged. "I'm on break."

I rolled my eyes. "Still. Wouldn't want that scholarship to go to waste. Can't play with tar in your lungs."

He looked down at it, eyebrows furrowed. Taking one final drag from it, he crushed it on the ground. Reaching into his inner jacket pocket, he pulled the box out, tossing it to me. I shook it. Almost full. I considered tossing it into the water, but decided against it, pocketing the box.

He didn't say anything to acknowledge the exchange, so I didn't either.

"So, what shenanigans have you gotten up to while you were away, college boy?" I teased.

Arden looked up at me, grinning. "Whatever do you mean? I always stay out of trouble."

I grinned back at him. "Oh yeah? Tell that to your mile-long school record.”