Christmas came early and another update is here! I hope everyone is starting to enjoy this story :) I have plenty in store for you all with this one. Thoughts on the attached cover?

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"The mind is not the heart." - Robert Frost

Memory Lane: Chapter Six

The rest of the week went by nearly the exact same. Even with the knowledge of needing to leave the house earlier in order to get to my first class on time, my body refuses to wake up at a reasonable hour. I have been late every day this week and I was only lucky enough to avoid being caught the first day. Since then, Mrs. Hyde has been giving me a warning a day to point me straight toward morning detention. Her threats have done nothing to make me wake up earlier. When I was late again on Friday and still was not given actual detention, I decided she's all bark and no bite.

There was no party this Saturday for me to make a fool of myself by drinking without meaning to. Even without the purpose of going to cure a hangover, everyone is still headed to The Oven Bird today. Kendall called me earlier this morning when Allen didn't respond to her excessive texts about meeting here for lunch since he was in the shower. So, as soon as he was dressed I drove the two of us to meet up with our waiting friends.

"Please just let me give you a ride! I feel so guilty every time you get to class late," Kendall whines, reaching across the somewhat sticky table to grab my hands.

I squeeze Kendall's small hands with a reassuring smile.

"I really don't mind walking. I actually prefer it."

"What if your luck with Mrs. Hyde runs out? I'm shocked she hasn't given you detention yet."

Allen takes a fry from the large basket he ordered as soon as we stepped foot inside The Oven Bird, putting his free arm around Kendall.

"Mrs. Hyde doesn't like to follow through with things. When I had her last year for her junior class, she kept threatening to fail me if I didn't stop texting during her lectures. But, that was the same block that Kendall had a Study Hall and I knew it was one of the only times she would be on her phone during the day. I wanted to be talking to her instead of listening to Mrs. Hyde's monotone voice."

Kendall rests her head on his shoulder with a grin, and with starstruck eyes Allen leans down to set a kiss on her forehead. I could be uncomfortable with their displays of affection, as Quinn clearly is when she gags, but I'm not. My parents often showed their love for one another near me with stolen kisses, constant words of affirmation, and loving looks from across the room at any given moment. I know what love looks like because of them. So, I smile at Allen and Kendall as they stare at one another, stuck in their own little world.

"Aren't they just the cutest?" Quinn sighs from next to me.

I glance at her, "You were just gagging, though?"

"Oh, that wasn't because of them! There was a hair on my tongue. Don't worry, it wasn't mine."

I furrow my brow at Quinn, ready to ask why on earth the hair not being hers is a good thing. Then, over the loud music blasting through the speakers, courtesy of the TouchTunes jukebox by the pool tables, the bell on the front door jingles and my gaze shifts there.

Familiar messy brown hair peeks through the doors, revealing Jesse's tall, strikingly powerful build as he steps inside. For a moment, everyone in the restaurant seems to go quiet. Jesse stands by the door in those silent seconds, shoulders straightening as he waits for the stares to look away. It seems that everyone else held their breath when he walked in, only now releasing it. His eyes scan the room as the chatter filling the restaurant starts once again.

"What are you staring at?" Allen asks as he twists around. "Is that Jesse?"

Jesse's gray gaze finds mine and I narrow my eyes. His black hoodie has somehow made his colorless eyes gain some sort of pigment in contrast: pale blue. He has done a fantastic job at ignoring me this week, and I him. Every morning, his old red truck lurched down the road past the Stallard's house without him even tapping the brakes to consider offering me a ride. Meanwhile, I wouldn't even lift my gaze from where it was focused on tying my shoes as he drove by. I think we both are more than content pretending the other doesn't exist.

The only other time I saw his truck, or rather heard it from the constant popping of the engine when it comes to life, was on Tuesday. Unfortunately, the window in my room has a clear view of Jesse's driveway. I saw him back out of his driveway at 7 o'clock sharp, which wouldn't have been odd if the girls and Allen hadn't constantly informed me that Jesse rarely leaves his house if it's not to go to school.

Seconds later, Allen begins to scoot out of the booth and jogs past the few tables separating us from the entrance, greeting Jesse with a smile. He finally shifts his attention away from me to focus on Allen, and I look at the girls.

"I'm glad he showed up. It's been weeks since he's come here," Quinn says, a smile lighting her face.

"Is that why this whole place seemed on edge when he walked in?" I ask.

Kendall sighs as she twists back around to face me and Quinn, gnawing on her lip as she thinks through how to answer my question. She plays with some of her silky black hair as she looks at me.

"Since his dad passed away, Jesse is more reserved than he used to be so I think people just don't know what to say around him anymore. Everyone is worried they'll accidentally say something about death or his dad that might make things uncomfortable."

Quinn nods in agreement, taking a fry from the basket Allen ditched.

I furrow my brow, "Why would they worry about that?"

"Everyone is pretty much certain he broke up with Shay because she wouldn't stop talking about his dad. I think she was just trying to get him to open up, but people are extra cautious about it now. So when he does show up, people forget how to talk to him," Quinn explains.

"Forget? Or don't want to after being talked down to?" I mutter.

I pull my cup of water closer to me, watching the streak of condensation it leaves on the wooden table with a scowl.

"I know you don't like him, but I really do just think you caught him in a bad mood at the party. He isn't the biggest fan of going anymore, so he was extra grumpy that night. I swear he's becoming some sort of hermit," Kendall says with a frown.

"My Uncle met a hermit one time when he was traveling for work. Said he was the first person to see the guy in three years," Quinn says through wide eyes.

Kendall rolls her eyes at Quinn but I tilt my head at her.

"Is this the same Uncle that went to Alaska?"

"He's a twin so we're never really sure, but yes I think so."

As Quinn and Kendall continue the conversation, I drink my water until the plastic red cup empties. I shake it gently, moving the ice around to give my straw a better chance at finding any leftover water hidden in the bottom. When I find none, I deflate. Quinn's soda mocks me from across the table, so I quietly stand up and head towards the bar to order one for myself since this restaurant doesn't have table service on Sundays.

My feet stick just enough to the floor for me to cringe at Allen's five second rule from earlier when a handful of fries fell to the ground. I weave between the various students standing around laughing with one another, trying to put names to faces after a week of seeing most of these people every day at school. A multitude of colognes, different types of fried food, and a stale cigarette stench fill the still air. It could be disgusting, but something about it breathes life into this clearly well-loved space. Finally, I reach the bar.

The bartender finishes pouring a drink for one of the locals sitting at the opposite end of the bar, sharing a laugh with him before he makes his way over to me. His arms are exposed, showing the various mismatched tattoos crawling up them, and his face is nearly being swallowed up by his short, graying beard. I smile when he looks at me expectantly, opening my mouth to ask for a soda, but his eyes shift away from me and spot something else that makes his smile become more genuine.

"Jesse! Been a while since I've seen you, kid."

My mouth snaps shut and I whip my head to the left when Jesse walks up to the bar, not even offering me a side glance. As opposed to when he first walked in, his posture is completely relaxed as he rests his elbows on the bar.

"Hey Ferncliff," Jesse greets the bartender by what I assume is his last name.

I have to hide my reaction to his friendly tone. I can actually hear the smile in his voice, however subtle it may be. I grind my teeth for a moment as I recall the exact opposite tone he's been addressing me with: cold and dismissive.

"When I saw that old truck roll up I was half expecting your dad to stumble in," Ferncliff says with a reminiscent grin.

Jesse's arms stiffen, the only indication being the way his fist clenches in the slightest. He glances at me from the corner of his eye before placing his attention back on Ferncliff.

"What can I get for you?"

"Just a Coke."

I furrow my brow at the change in his tone. More curt, cutting off any chance at a conversation. He pulls out his wallet, but Ferncliff chuckles and shakes his head.

"Put that away. This is on the house; in honor of your old man."

Jesse pauses, looking almost as though he'll decline the free offer. Then, he nods with a tight smile and puts his wallet away with muttered thanks. As Ferncliff grabs a glass from behind him, he looks at me and I smile.

"What about you?"

"Same thing, please."

I glance at Jesse as he patiently waits for his soda, tapping his hand on the bar as he stares at the various words either written or carved into it. My glance lasts too long, however, because his eyes shift and find mine. When he gives me a onceover and casually looks away, my blood boils.

"This one's on the house, too."

I quickly look at Ferncliff and tilt my head in confusion. He just smiles and nods to Jesse.

"Seeing as you two are friends," Ferncliff explains as he quickly fills up our drinks and sets them on the bar for us.

"We're not friends," Jesse says.

He grabs his soda with a curt smile to Ferncliff and then turns and stalks away. I watch his back with a deep scowl, letting out a huff of air in annoyance.

"Oh," Ferncliff says, scratching his beard. "Well, uh, it's on the house anyway."

I politely take my soda with a smile and thanks, letting my face drop right back into a scowl when I start my walk back to the girls.

"Just caught Jesse in a bad mood that night, Kendall says? Seems to me like this guy is caught in an eternal bad mood," I mutter under my breath.

Much to my disdain, as soon as I sit down, I Allen drags Jesse over to our booth. I keep my distance from Quinn, refusing to make my side of the booth seem large enough for three people even though there would be plenty of room. Thankfully, my little plan works and Jesse sits on the side with Allen and Kendall. I keep my attention on my soda, swirling my straw around to distract my mind.

"Jesse! I'm so glad you were able to make it here today!" Kendall squeals, leaning forward so that she can peer around Allen to see him.

Jesse gives her a small smile for his greeting, same to Quinn.

"Felt like getting out of the house," he says, keeping his response short but friendly enough for me to roll my eyes.

Despite sitting with us, as the girls and Allen all chat about school, Jesse stays particularly quiet. I notice that despite their ease of talking, both Kendall and Quinn seem to struggle every few moments on what to say or how to try and address Jesse. He doesn't seem to mind. He stays quiet, observing their conversation and adding limited input here and there.

Eventually, as the conversation shifts again and Allen and Quinn begin arguing about some sort of history of Bennington, Jesse gets up and heads to the bathroom.

"Wait, someone that died on the Titanic is buried here in Bennington?" I ask, tuning into the conversation.

"Don't believe them, Laura," Quinn says. "The Titanic is a conspiracy. The actual ship that went down was the Olympic."

Allen rolls his eyes and leans forward as he tries to get his point across.

"That part doesn't matter as long as you agree that a ship sunk. The guy that's buried here died when the Titanic or the Olympic or whatever ship went down in 1912."

"What's his name, then?" Quinn asks, crossing her arms in defiance.

"Jack Dawson," Allen mutters sarcastically.

"No, he was in the movie-"

"I know, Quinn. I was being facetious. I don't remember his name."

"Jesse probably knows," Kendall says as I catch sight of him coming back from the bathroom.

"Why would he know?" I ask.

"You know how I've always been with math? That's him with history," Allen explains.

"You can't ask him!" Quinn quickly hisses. "His dad died and now you want to ask him about the Cemetery?"

"It's just a question about the Titanic," Allen reasons.

"About some dead guy. It's just going to strike a nerve."

I chuckle at her ridiculous concern, but quickly wipe away my amused smile when Kendall and Allen murmur their agreement. I furrow my brow as Allen scratches the back of his neck uncomfortably, shaking his head. The three of them squirm slightly in discomfort at the thought of mentioning death to Jesse.

Having death occur to someone close to you doesn't mean you can never have death mentioned around you again. Unless you've experienced it yourself, as I'm learning, you don't understand that some things are okay to be talked about.

I think back to the conversation I had with Kendall and Quinn about Jesse and everyone's uneasiness when talking to him. Another reminder that I need to have a valid excuse when the day comes that someone asks why I moved here and doesn't let me dodge the question. The second I allude to the real reason, any chance of being normal goes out the window. I can't become the new girl with dead parents.

"Let's change the subject," Kendall suggests right before Jesse sits back down.

For an awkward length of time, no one brings up a new topic to discuss. Everyone just went silent as soon as Jesse squeezed into the booth. Finally, Allen is able to laugh and bring a new topic of conversation to the table. As I join in, I watch Jesse from the corner of my eye. Despite the clearly awkward moment when he came back from the bathroom, he seems entirely unbothered. He listens to our conversation, smiling when needed, but he never really finds the need to say anything. It's almost as though he's in the background: listening and observing.

Until Kendall brings up once again how much she wishes I would let her drive me to school in the morning. I notice Jesse's eyes shift instantly to me as he awaits my answer.

"I really don't mind walking, Kendall," I once again reassure her.

"But every day? And you're always late!"

"Why not just let someone else drive you?" Jesse asks.

I snap my eyes to his, no response coming to me. He lounges back against the booth, arms crossed over his chest.

"I mean really, what's the big deal?"

I get quiet, staring back at him as I wrack my brain for some sort of believable reason. When one doesn't instantly come to me my heartrate picks up, but I force down my bubbling panic and refuse to drop his inquisitive gaze.

"I like walking."

"Or is it because you want the attention of the entire class every time you come in ten minutes late?"

I scoff at him, "I'm not walking to school for attention."

"Well you've gotten it."

I'm silent for a beat as I grit my teeth. "Why do you care?"

"Don't mistake curiosity with caring."

"What's your issue with me, anyway?"

Jesse narrows his eyes and sits up, resting his forearms onto the table.

"My issue is that you were going to drive that night of the party and when I stopped you, for some reason I was the jerk and not the girl arguing in her favor to drive drunk."

I flinch slightly but refuse to back down from his ridiculous argument. "I didn't realize I had been drinking-"

"And then when I offered a simple solution, you got even more defensive and stormed off."

"You called me a control freak."

"Because you were being one."

"Because I didn't want to get into the car with a random guy?"

"Because you refused to take my help. All I was doing was making sure you didn't get behind the wheel and cause an accident."

Any response on my tongue instantly melts away and I shut my mouth. I look away from him and down to the table, gnawing on the inside of my cheek as I calm my angry breaths. All it takes is the mention of an accident for me mind to begin to spiral. Headlights from that night flash in my head, the sound of metal scraping against metal threatens to fill my ears, but I push all of that away and focus on controlling my breathing as subtly as possible.

The others at our table are stunned into silence, staring between me and Jesse with wide eyes. While the girls just think I've been offended by Jesse, Allen understands the depth of my reaction and clears his throat. He pats Jesse awkwardly on the shoulder and nods over to the pool tables, trying to diffuse the situation.

"Let's go play some pool, yeah?"

Jesse stays rooted to his spot for another few seconds before abruptly standing up and stalking towards the doors. Allen quickly follows after him, turning to catch my eye with worry; silently asking if I'm okay.

I just nod at him and force a small smile of reassurance.

"Okay, so maybe you didn't catch him on a bad day but rather you got on his bad side?" Kendall says a little awkwardly, shrugging at me.

I give her a small smile at her attempt to lighten the tense mood. By the door, I catch Allen talking to Jesse. He has a hand on Jesse's shoulder to try and level with him, trying to explain something. When I look at Jesse, I catch him staring straight at me. Then, he turns and walks out the door.

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