Chapter 3 Track 02: Drunk

Of all his 24 years of living, he has never made such a wrong decision other than drinking with the patrons while waiting for the rain to let up. They exchanged stories, and laughter was loud. Cheers were made with glee, ordering more alcohol.

Now he's paying for his momentary lack of common sense, and he blames the woman in the bar that seemed to have made quite an impression on her boss as they were lost in their little world talking and laughing, the same woman who is probably suffering the same fate as he is across the hall from him.

Listening to his alarm repeating every five minutes wasn't helping with the headache, but he welcomed the music, remembering when he recorded it. The constant beat of the drum that accompanied his guitar beat along with his throbbing head, in a way, punished himself for the last night. He barely remembers anything after his fourth beer and two glasses of martini curtsy of one of the patrons.

His alarm plays again, probably the sixth time that hour; he rolls to his side and groans. It was the first time in a long time that he had the urge to stay in bed and not go to work; the last time was when he was in his senior year, and he was in the middle of college applications and exams; a teenager could only take so much. To top it off, he monitored his sister's progress, whether the dialysis and medications worked.

He dropped a pillow over his head, pushing out the memories; what annoyed him most was that it wasn't his alarm that woke him but the dream of his past that caused sleep to elude him at the last hour.

He was giving himself a pep talk to at least sit up as he needed to be in the café in half an hour. Still, fate had its plan and came in the form of an English woman, wearing a spaghetti-strapped top and loose sweat pants, armed with coffee and a bottle of what looked like Gatorade, knocking on his opened door.

His laziness in closing the door when he went to the bathroom in the hallway was now kicking him in the ass.

"Interesting alarm," He hears her from under the pillow, "Do you mind?"

Sebastian shrugged and sat up, only to realize that he had no shirt on, another thing to ponder later. Seeing he didn't dismiss her, July braved entering the room and handed him the Gatorade, earning a questioning look.

"Contrary to common belief, coffee doesn't help with the hangover; you need to rehydrate, so I got you that." She explained, "I also have coconut water downstairs, or do you prefer regular water?"

"It's good." Sebastian says, unsure of what was going on, his brain still failing to work; the pain inflicted by his grandmother yesterday throbbed as if reminding him of his manners, "Thank you."

She flashed him a smile before turning her back and going through one of the boxes piled in the corner of the room. He kept his eyes on the girl with a messy bun exposing her shoulders and neck from her usual curtain of hair; her extremely short drawstring shorts showed off her toned legs. She had a naturally curvy body, unlike those skinny girls he serves at work spouting about finally getting their thigh gaps.

At that point, Sebastian realized he liked the curves more than the gap.

"By the way, I hope you don't mind me sleeping in your room."

Sebastian spat the drink over his bare torso and the bed covers he didn't recognize. "What!"

July caught the laugh in her throat before it slipped out of her and embarrassed the man sitting half-naked on a bed she had prepped yesterday afternoon.

"You slept on my bed, so I slept on yours." Sebastian still doesn't understand, earning a sigh from the woman, "You're staying in your parents' room, remember?"

Common sense finally comes in small portions, remembering their arrangement and her insisting on him taking the bigger room.

"You can stay there." He mumbled, "It has a walk-through closet, and you can call dibs on the bathroom too; I don't mind. It looks like you need more space than I do anyway."

Looking around, he noticed that his room was half full of boxes.

"Are you sure? Cause I can keep these in the boxes-"

"It's fine; it's the least I can do; you are paying for everything around here, besides...." He glanced at the window, it was perfectly adjacent to the house across, and he could see a little bit of his room and Sarah's.

July followed his eyes, understanding what he meant. Every moment with Sebastian was like a peeling onion, every layer looked the same, but there was more to it, and each had reason to fall into tears. July had no siblings, so seeing a big brother going beyond the overprotective character was new to her.

"Your sister is welcome here, you know." Sebastian turned to him. "This is her house, too, after all."

"She's still a minor," He says, "and under grandma's care, so that might need time."

"Well, the offer has no expiration, so feel free to cash in anytime." She beamed him another of her smile before sipping her coffee.

He may be unable to keep his eyes from wandering; he can try. No matter what his grandmother says, a nice sweet girl is not welcome in his home; she's dressed in sheep's wool, waiting for the right moment to reveal her real identity, a she-wolf, just like everyone in his life.

"I thought coffee doesn't help with the hangover."

"It doesn't, well, doctors say, I don't know if it's true." She shrugged her shoulder.

"Is that why you get to drink it?"

"Huh, oh! No, I'm not; I don't have a hangover; I don't drink."

Sebastian was confused, "What were you doing at the bar last night?"

"I got caught in the rain and got hungry, so I went to the nearest place serving food." She sat at Sebastian's old computer chair, "Not that the place was fun."

"You looked like you were having fun, though," he mumbled, taking another sip.

"Well, Simon is hilarious." She laughs, remembering his conversation with the big man, "He was telling me a few things about the town, what to avoid and what to expect, and a little about the golden boy too."

Sebastian rolled his eyes, remembering the nickname he got when he was in middle school. "Whatever he said, don't believe all of it; it's probably not even a quarter true."

"Oh, so you weren't the class valedictorian despite having to work and take care of your sister?"

Sebastian stared down at the almost empty bottle he was holding; it's not like he hated compliments; he instead is recognized for his accomplishments as much as the next man; it's just it's all in the past. The glory days were over for him even before it began.

"You were quite a teenager," she smiled, "I don't think I know anyone who could do what you did, especially with your sister. That one I would drink for with cheers."

Sebastian felt his face burn before forcing a smile, "Thank you."

"Anyway, I brought breakfast, so if you want to join me, get your butt out of bed." She says, walking out of the room, "We're at home, not a bed and breakfast."

Sebastian laughed at that one, remembering he advised her to go to one on her second day, preferably far from Road Side.

He tossed the comforter off him and saw that he still had his boxers on; thank the lord, he looked around to search for his clothes, but it was nowhere to be found.

"Oh, I tossed your shirt in the drier about an hour ago; it's probably done now; your jeans folded on top of the washer too."

"You didn't have to wash my clothes."

"I did need to," she says, "you sort of threw up last night and got it all over your clothes."

"Oh god," he leaned over, his elbows on his knees, his face behind his hands. "was Simon mad? Did he fire me?"

"He did say you'd ask that." She chuckled, "He was more worried about you; he said you were distracted about something and that you hardly drank; despite him being glad that you were acting more like your age, he drew the line when you challenged him to a shot war."

"Oh god, he's so gonna fire me."

"No, he won't." she assured him, "Simon means well; he seems to believe you compared to most people here."

"What do you mean?"

"I told you he mentioned a few stories about you, most of them he did retell with disgust as if not believing the very words he was saying. So, yeah, I think he cares about you."

Sebastian looked away; he had known Simon since the man moved to town to look after his uncle, who was getting too old to live alone. He later on, opened a pub; he used to be a bartender in the city after all, and brought more life and people from towns over. Not everyone liked the crowd he was attracting, but it did business in Green Valley; that was enough to fake a smile or two.

"Anyway, he helped you into the car and let me drive you home."

"You told Simon we lived together?"

"No, just that I know our grandmother." She says, "I remembered everything you told me when you dropped me off at the inn. So don't worry; your reputation is safe with me."

"That's not what I meant." Lie.

Like the man she met at the bus stop, July watched him get lost for words, not looking at her. Or the one who quickly walked from one table to another, taking orders and cleaning tables. Each step was made with purpose and determination, and it was intimidating for some new customers.

"Listen, Sebastian," July stood by the door like she was testing the man she was living with. "I have no intention of taking over your home. I know the importance of a family and everything that comes with it; you don't have to worry about anything. If you don't want me here, you must tell me."

Sebastian felt shame run through him, mentally giving his brain a sarcastic thanks as he forced himself to look up at the strong woman standing by his door, not backing out of his weak attempts of making her feel unwelcomed.

"Thank you." That was all he could muster up.

"Good, now c'mon, the food's getting cold."

July released the breath she was holding and went downstairs; she didn't want to ignite any more unnecessary fire against Sebastian. July knew her place, and it wasn't in their shared house. Still, as much as she loved the house, she had no intention of buying it and won't need properties under her name in a foreign land. At the same time, the reason she loved the house was the feeling of it being lived in by a family before she moved in. It wasn't a fairy tale, but it was better than hers.

Sebastian stepped into the laundry room, clean of cobwebs and the clothes his mother left. Smiling, he remembered the times he and his dad had in that small man cave of theirs. Given that manly was the last thing the room was, their moments in that room taught him what a man should be, the kind of man his father was.

He opened the cabinet overhead and found the comic books they stacked there, the same comic books his dad used to teach him to read while he did the laundry, teaching him the big words he'd repeat with a huge smile.

"Is it ok?" he hears July from the kitchen.

Sebastian snapped out of his reminiscing, opened the drier, and frowned, "Yeah...."

July heated the food she bought and finished her coffee when Sebastian stepped out of the laundry room.

She smiled and turned to face him, "I thought you got lost in holy crap! Did I do that?"

Sebastian pulled out the culprit from his back pocket. July's eyes widened as she snatched his red knickers from the boy; so much for starting over.

"A yes would have been enough."

"It got twisted with my shirt."

"I am so sorry." She groaned, embarrassment eating her up. "I must have missed it when I was doing laundry yesterday."

"It's fine; uhm, I've never had a pink shirt before."

"Well, even if pink looks great on you, this has my stupidity written all over it." She shook her head and pushed her curls away from her face, "I'll get you a new shirt."

"No, it's fine-"

"No, it's not, I'm sure it's one of your work shirts, and I was the wanker who didn't double-check the wash."

Sebastian looked at her surprise and then laughed.

"What?"

"I'm sorry, it's nothing."

"No, what is it?"

"Well," Sebastian chuckled again, "you just said wanker."

"Yeah, and?"

"Uhm, I don't know what wanker means at your end of the world, but here it's, uhm...."

He made a hand gesture, and July made a questioning face. "Mmm?"

"Forget it; just don't use that word here."

"No, tell me what it means."

"You sure?"

"Yes," July said with authority and crossed her arms.

"It means someone who masturbates... usually a male someone."

"What!"

"Yeah..."

"Holy fuck..." she walks out of the room with Sebastian on her tail. "I'm so gonna kill Smith."

"Smith?"

"The tosser who told me it meant stupid." She mumbled.

"Well, maybe you can call him a... you know."

July stifled a laugh, "I'm not usually out of sorts, and I rarely cuss too, and now I know why."

"Well, maybe you can stick to the basic, like sh*t or f*CK...."

She hid behind her hand, still laughing. "I feel like a schoolgirl caught saying a bad word."

"It's more of the wrong word."

Her laughter echoed in the kitchen, "I'll stick to the basics or maybe just shut up altogether."

Sebastian laughs, "Best decision ever; kept me out of trouble my whole life."

"I know!" She looked around the kitchen and grabbed the cookie jar, "Do you bake?"

"No."

"Good, so do I." she pulled out a dollar from whatever magic pocket was in her bra or top and dropped it in the jar, "Let's make a rule, no potty mouth inside the house."

"What?"

"No potty mouth inside the house; you'll have to toss a dollar in the jar for every bad word you say."

"And if I don't?"

"Penalty of one dollar."

"How would you know if I paid or not if you're out of the house?"

She gave him a look, "Do you want me to put surveillance cameras all over the house? Cause I will."

"Just for the potty mouth pot?"

July laughs, "I like that, Potty Mouth Pot, and yes, just for the Potty Mouth Pot."

"Does it need to be pulled out from inappropriate pockets?"

"I didn't know I was living with a perv."

"Are you sure you aren't the drunk one?"

"Are you sure that's the only clothing I can turn pink?"

"Touché." Sebastian grinned, "Ok, a dollar per bad word."

"Good." She stood and grabbed an apple. "Anyway, I have a lot of moving around to do, so here's your breakfast, car keys are on the bowl by the door, and I suggest you get a move on the cause. According to your grandma, you should be at work in 15 minutes."

"Oh shit!" He checked the time and ran off toward the front door.

"Food!" He ran back to grab the plate with a sandwich and ran back out with it. "And that's a dollar for cursing!"

"You turned my shirt pink!"

"Touché..." July smiles, satisfied with her new development with Sebastian that morning; childish as it may have been, it still put them in a better place than yesterday.

This might work, she tells herself.

That was wrong.

During the extremely short drive to the diner, Sebastian gave himself a mental slap for being too friendly with July. He drank all night to make him see the cons of having her in his house, but after that first joke, all the thinking went down the drain. Or maybe he came up with nothing during his drinking spree, as he can't remember anything from the night before.

What he does know is that the laughing session they had earlier can't happen again; he needed her out of the house, Sarah's birthday is coming soon, and he planned on moving back to the house as his gift, maybe turning his dad's old office to her mini library.

Before that could happen, he needed to get July Benet out of the house; Sebastian glanced at the half-eaten club sandwich on his dashboard, he had half the mind of throwing it outside, but his stomach protested, and quite frankly, he thought his brain needed a kick start.

With only a minute to spare, he pulled up to the front of the diner and ran inside, where Moe and Harry stood behind the bar watching him with amusement. Kirsten, the voice of reason amongst his co-worker, was nowhere to be found, so he was sure that he'd be teased by the terrible two until she returned.

"Am I late?" he asks, out of breath and running to the back to get his uniform and apron.

I need to get back into shape, he says to himself. Not that he was all flab looking at him. He is a guy who spends half the day working out; he should get into running to get his breathing better.

"Almost." His boss says, "Harry and I were making bets that you would be late when you didn't arrive ten minutes ago."

"Were you now?" Sebastian returned with his mind ticking off his to-do list; the window needed cleaning today.

"Yes," Harry says, leaning over the bar watching him, "I said you'd be late because of your new lady friend."

Sebastian froze and turned to the two, who had a knowing smile on their face.

"So you moved in with the little lady from...."

"I don't know." Sebastian returned to the task, "If you want to know anything about her, ask her."

"So you're saying we can visit your house now." Harry asks, "I mean, I could; married men should stick to their wife's side."

"I'm not visiting anyone or going anywhere." Moe rolled his eyes, "I just want to know the real deal about this girl."

"Well, Mom said she's nice, probably too nice." Harry tossed his face over his shoulder, "She went around the neighborhood introducing herself like she was obligated to do it, even-handed out some tea or something; I heard she's British or somewhere around that area."

"I don't know," Sebastian answers, spraying soap on the window and wiping it off.

"Imagine waking up to that accent," Harry groaned, "I'd probably have my hands down my pants the whole time."

Sebastian smirked, remembering the English slang lesson situation earlier in the kitchen.

"You have something to share, golden boy?" Harry asks, catching the quirk of his neighbor's lip quirk.

Sebastian quickly frowns and continues cleaning the window. "Nothing."

"Have you-"

"If you men are done planning on defiling an innocent girl, please do it in your own time and not in the diner; thank you," Kirsten shouts from the kitchen.

"Harry was defiling the girl!" Moe shouts and hurries inside the kitchen.

"I was complimenting the girl, mom." Harry rolled his eyes and smirked at Sebastian, "Finally found the balls to get yourself a girl, fine choice too."

"I'm not trying to get anything," Sebastian says, tired of the conversation already.

"If I didn't know you since we were kids, I would think you're gay."

"Not because I'm not stripping her naked in my mind means I'm gay; Grandma just taught me better than that."

The rest of the day was similar to the previous one, only this time, they had tagged her as a drunkard and said to have checked in at the Road Side with three men she picked up from Buckmead for an orgy. He wouldn't know because his brain decided to block out the entire night, but he was pretty sure that if she were indeed in an orgy, she wouldn't have been so energetic that morning.

Not only that, their living arrangement had made its headline in the local gossip vine, and every man had congratulated him, and every woman had given him some unnecessary advice.

"Keep a knife under your pillow just in case; a girl with no background surely means trouble." Mrs. Howards says, "I don't want Gina around her when she visits your sister."

"They'd probably be at grandma's place anyway," Sebastian says, ignoring the woman's knife advice.

At the same time, the bell hanging over the door announced a new customer, giving him a reason to leave the snob woman to her lunch, but hearing the familiar voice made him think again.

"Grab a table, and we'd be right with you," Moe says from the kitchen.

"Thanks, I'm here for Sebastian?"

Everyone in the café fell silent.

"Oh, uh..." Moe looks around, "Sebastian!"

He sighed, picked up the tray of used plates and glass, and walked toward July.

"Hey!" She greeted.

"What are you doing here?" his voice dropped into a whisper, knowing everyone was listening.

"I just came to drop this off." She pulls out a key, "I got it copied."

"Ok, thanks." He takes the key and sees Moe and Harry from the kitchen peeking. "Is that all?"

July was surprised by the underlining anger in his tone, thinking she probably came in during rush hour; she looked around and noticed that everyone's eyes were on them, not even hiding their curiosity about her; that's when things fell into place.

"I was making myself familiar with the town, looking around; this is a cute place." She looked around and smiled at some people, then leaned in and whispered, "They're staring. Should I wave?"

Everyone snapped back into their business and started talking as if on cue. Sebastian chuckles; if only he weren't in the middle of their scrutiny or the crowd wasn't faking it, he would find this more than impressive.

"Nice." He says, fighting the urge to laugh.

"Works every time." She grins.

"Anyway, have you had lunch?"

"Yes, before I left the house." She nodded, "Oh, by the way, I need your shirt size."

"What for?" Sebastian asks, surprised, voice dropping lower.

"For the one, I owe you after the knickers-drier incident."

A gasp escaped nearby, someone even dropped their utensils on their plate, and pots and pans seemed to have fallen off their hooks from the kitchen; Sebastian closed his eyes as if fighting an imaginary pain.

"That came out wrong..." She hissed.

"Medium," Sebastian smiled, "medium would be good."

"Alright, got it." She turned to leave, but two men blocked her path.

"Hi, I'm Harry, Harry Anderson. We're neighbors."

"Oh," July nods, shaking his hand. "Hi, Harry."

"It's like I'm Harry Potter right now." The big child squealed, making Sebastian roll his eyes.

"I'm Moe Cooper, the owner. Ignore the ogre."

"Hi, Moe." She glanced at Sebastian as if silently asking for help, who shook his head, just as lost as she was.

"Have you had lunch? I can make you anything you want." Moe says.

"Thank you, I'm good."

"You met my mom yesterday...." Harry cuts in, "Mrs. Anderson."

"Oh, yes, charming woman." July smiled, "Did she like the tea?"

"She loved it." he laughs, "She wanted to say thanks; we had it this morning; it was amazing and made my morning very posh. Thank you."

Sebastian face-palmed himself, hearing Harry's attempt to of an English accent.

"Would all of you give the girl a break?"

They all turned to the woman over the counter, hands on her hips, glaring at the boys.

"Yes, ma'am." The two half ran into the places in the kitchen while the woman turned to July with an apologetic smile.

"I'm sorry; people around here turn dumb regarding new arrivals."

"It's fine," July grinned, "If I'd known, I would have locked myself at home."

"Wouldn't change a damn thing, believe me," glancing at their customers before extending her hand to her, "Kirsten Cooper, thing one's wife."

"That would be me." More shots from the diner.

July laughed and shook her hand, "July Benet."

"Are you off somewhere? Can I interest you in food? Despite his appearance, my husband is a culinary genius."

"Thanks, hon!"

"Despite his appearance," Sebastian repeats.

"Thanks, but I just had lunch, and I'm going to shop for some things at home."

"Oh, well, my shift is over; I can go with you." Kirsten pulled off her apron.

"You just came in." Moe accused.

"And I'm part owner." The older woman smiled over her shoulder and tossed his apron, "I'm leaving you in charge, Sebastian."

"The other owner is here too!"

"The said owner was being an ass." Kirsten winked at July as she walked around the bar. "I'll be home by dinner; you boys behave and don't burn the diner."

"I can't promise anything, Kirsten; I'm washing the dishes; how can I avoid not burning anything?"

"Just do your jobs." She snaps.

"I'll see you at home, Sebastian." July says, "By the way, I was expecting the phone company to hook up the internet this morning, but they didn't arrive, and I have errands to run this afternoon. Do you mind watching out for them for me?"

"I'll sign for you." Sebastian nodded.

"You are an angel." July sighed in relief, "Thank you, I'll see you home! It was nice to meet you, Harry, Moe; your diner is gorgeous."

"Thank you."

"It was nice to meet you, July." Harry waves at the woman who is outside and has half a mind to run away.

Kirsten followed July out the door and glanced at Sebastian, who thanked her silently. She grew up in Green Valley she managed to escape until her father died; she knew what it was like to be gossiped about, Sebastian does too, but he chooses to ignore it. How and why he does it is a mystery to her.

Unlike her and Sebastian, who are cut from the same cloth, this girl was being sewn in with them, which was low even for the oldest of the locals.

She knew Moe meant well when he wanted to meet the girl; she couldn't say the same for Harry, and knowing the boy, he would use July to torment Sebastian, who has enough on his plate as it is to add any more inappropriate rumors on it.

Everyone watched July pass by and break into whispers the moment she was out of sight.

Sebastian had never felt more relieved in his entire life, not even after receiving good news about Sarah's positive response to her treatment.

"Raised Right by my grandma, my ass." Harry barks a laugh as Sebastian enters the kitchen with a tray full of dirty dishes, "There's already a knickers accident, and if I'm not mistaken, that is-"

"Get your head out of the gutter Harry," Sebastian warns.

"Oh c'mon, just the gist."

"It was a laundry accident." Sebastian snapped, "Give the girl a little respect."

"I will if she deserves it," Harry says, raising a brow before returning to the kitchen. "Bet she was at Road Side Inn last night."

Sebastian looked at the door and sighed; I need to get rid of her soon, good or not.

July watched the woman who tagged along with her, careful of what she could unleash once they were left alone. She was aware of what the woman did at the diner; the disapproving looks at her customers; July had no idea what made the woman angry, though; it is customary to stare at something new, right? She expected it, but the way Kirsten reacted got her thinking again.

"You found what you need?"

"Oh, not really." July jumped, surprised, "I just need to find some new kitchenware that would fit the house; grandma's grandma Em put quite a high standard after she fixed it up."

Kirsten smiled as she remembered her old preschool teacher.

"Mrs. Michelson had always been quite a designer." She says, "On my first day of preschool, she looked like Jacky O with her hair and clothes; fathers would pick up their kids on time so they could talk to the infamous preschool teacher."

"I can sort of imagine that." July laughs, "She's still quite a spitfire."

"How is it with the Michelsons?"

"Oh, well, I've only met Grandma Em and Sebastian; I'm yet to meet the baby sister." she grinned, "I offered Sebastian the guest room for her, but he said she's better off with their grandma."

Kirsten nods, "The Michelsons are one of the good kids, despite their family background. Sebastian levels out the eccentricity of my husband and Harry; he does the same at home. Sometimes I'm worried that he might not know any other way to interact with others other than that."

"Well, he wasn't so welcoming yesterday." July smiled, "If it were another person, they'd probably have run out of the house, fuming mad. He didn't like that I was there, I didn't want to anger him, but I needed a place to stay in, and I've paid for it as well, so we sort of just made a deal."

"There's a lot of bed and breakfasts in town, you know."

"It's different." July insists, "Have you seen the house? It's breathtaking; I fell in love just seeing the front porch."

"I remember the house."

"I like how it has an old vibe that looked worn down when it wasn't. It feels like memories are engraved in the walls; I like that."

Kirsten smiled as she watched the young woman check on another set of cutlery. She had heard of people falling in love with the town, with the weather, and commonly with a person, but she had never heard of someone being stubborn because she fell in love with a house.

"His father built that house," she says. Kirsten had no idea why she said that, but she felt the girl had to know more about the house than its facade; it wasn't just a home they shared or where they started a family. It was their roots and the only thing Sebastian had of his parents...

"He must have been a brilliant man."

"He was... is..." Kirsten waved a hand, "His wife drove him out of their house and never to be seen or heard from again."

"Oh..."

"Yeah."

"Well, they'll be able to move back in now; that's what's important," July excitedly says as she reaches for a colorful set of knives, the same one Kirsten had in their kitchen at home. "I think I like this."

"So do I." Kirsten smiled, unknown to the English girl what she was approving on.

July's phone suddenly blares off, giving Kirsten an apologetic smile before pulling out her phone from her back pocket.

"Sorry, got to take this." She says, "Literally."

Kirsten gave her a confused look watching the young woman check her bag and take out a pillbox. With the accuracy of a practiced move, she popped two pills in her mouth and took a drink from the water tumbler she was carrying around.

Relieved that she finished that day's medication, she packed her pillbox and water back into her bag before turning to Kirsten.

"You ok?" Kirsten asks.

"Yeah, just, you know... scheduled medication."

Kirsten gave her a look before taking a step near her.

"July, listen, I know we just met, but," she reached for July's hand, "you can tell me if there's anything you need help with."

July returned her smile and just watched the stranger give her a motherly look, one which she had never had the experience of receiving before. Maybe it was the moment or the melancholy feel that her eyes radiated toward July, the reason why she squeezed her hand back. Whatever it was, July had found no reason to doubt the woman before her.

Stranger or not, she was the first person who extended a hand to her, and she plans on taking it.

"How about that late lunch?"