Chapter 1

I can feel his arms wrap around me as I start making another coffee. If only he was actually here. If only he was actually mine.

I put my head on my hand as I lean on the counter. Today's been a slow day at work. The only person that's been here all day to entertain me is Maxine. She's been having a lot of episodes lately though, and really should talk to someone, besides me, about it. I should take her to see Dr. Maxton, my therapist. Maybe introduce them? I don't know. She needs help though.

I come back to reality to a customer attempting to get my attention.

"Um, excuse me? I've been waiting five minutes for my coffee." She questions.

"Shit," I mutter under my breath. The coffee's cold. I have to make a new one. As I'm making a new coffee for the customer, Karri comes out. I guess Cameron ratted on me.

"What you doing?" she asks.

"Making a new coffee."

"Why?"

"Cause I messed up on the first one."

Then the customer decided to cut in.

"She was daydreaming. Can you hurry up? I have an important meeting to attend."

I finish making the coffee, and hand it to the customer with a free slice of lemon cake to apologize for taking so long to prepare the coffee. The customer practically runs out of the building.

"That's three times this week, Kat. I think you need to go home early."

Karri takes out a pad of paper and starts writing down something as I walk to the back to clock out for the day. Obviously, she's writing me up. I quickly grab all of my stuff, and head to the door as fast as I can to avoid having to talk to Maxine.

"Where are you GOING, Kat? She's obviously going home. She got in trouble"

Her schizophrenia's acting up again…

"I can't talk right now, Max, I have somewhere to be." I answer quickly, and walk out the door.

I struggle to get my keys out of my pocket before I get into my car and head to the Pier.

I didn't make it very far before traffic caused me to come to a halt. I notice people are getting out of their cars to see what's causing the hold up. Some people have their hands over their mouths. Something bad has happened.

I try my hardest to not get out of my car to see what's happened, and just focus on my music.

I hear a knock on my window. It's a police officer. Her blonde hair's pulled all the way back, into a tight bun, and her eyes look like they hold things she's experienced. Things I never want to experience.

"Can I help you, Officer?"

"There's been an accident right up here, happened moments before you got here. It's going to be a while before we can move everything."

"What happened?"

"It's still under investigation, but we suspect a drunk driver."

"Is everyone okay?"

"Unfortunately, it's a fatal accident, which is why it's going to take a while to move."

I feel tear come to my eye, and roll down my cheek. I feel my heart beating abnormally fast, and my chest convulsing.

"Is everything alright with you, miss?" Her voice soothing.

I struggle to get a breath out. I'm completely bawling my eyes out. "N-no."

The officer opens up my door, and crouches down next to me, rubbing my back. "Would you like to talk about it?"

I notice a person, tall in height, walking towards me. I recognize him from somewhere, but I just can't put my finger on it.

That was until he got close enough for me to see his tattoos clearly. My blog is covered in pictures of him.

I just now realize that I'm listening to The Great Hendowski, an Of Mice & Men song.

"Excuse me, Officer, if you don't mind, I'll help out here, and you can continue doing your job." He says when he reaches my car.

"Alright, we'll get you moving soon." Then she walks off to the next car. Austin Carlile is standing right next to me.

By now, I've caught my breath, and only have a few stray tears rolling down my face. "My father was killed, when I was ten, by a drunk driver. I just realized that today's the eight year anniversary of his accident." I say quietly as Austin crouches down next to the open door.

"That must be hard on you. My mom died when I was in high school. She was undiagnosed with marfan syndrome, which caused the doctors to test me for it. The tests came back positive."

"I know. I'm a huge fan of your band."

"Oh really? I couldn't tell." With a hint of sarcasm in his voice, he gestured to my radio. "In case you didn't already know, my name's Austin."

"I'm Kat." I answer.

We lock eye contact for a few seconds. I've always loved how his brown eyes slanted downwards that tiny bit.

"Well, you know what?" he breaks the contact. "At least that isn't you up there. Right?"

"I guess."

"It looks like they're opening up the barricade. I'll let you go. Get home, get some rest," he grabs a piece of paper and scribbles something on it. "And take my number, and text or call me whenever. "

"Thank you, I will." I smile as he closes my car door and walks back towards his car

Just a few moments later, traffic starts moving. The course of the traffic brings me right up next to the accident before turning through the opened barricade, and into the lanes for opposite direction traffic. The cars meant to be in that lane has been turned around as well, and heading in the direction I was intending in going on. It seems like I can't avoid heading home any longer.

Even though my house is only 10 minutes from where the accident was, the drive felt like an hour. I really do not want to be at home.

I grab my bag out of the back seat, and quickly walk in the door and straight up the stairs to my room. I hope that I can avoid my brother and mom.

I can hear muffled steps up the stairs. Two sets. I can tell my mom's angry by how heavy she's stepping, and then there's my little brother following her up. I really do not need this right now.

Before I can pull myself together, she opens the door and Tyson tramples into my room, touching everything.

"Why are you home so early?"

I just lay in bed, without saying anything. If I don't move, maybe they'll go away. Unfortunately, it doesn't work so well. I feel her sit on the edge of my bed.

"Did you get sent home early?"

I muffle a 'yes' into my pillow.

"Dammit, Kat, how are you going to hold a job when you can't even stay more than two hours one day without being sent home? What are you going to do in the real world after college?"

I rapidly sit up. "The real world?" I'm furious. "What? Have I been living in a fake world for my whole life until now?"

She give me the 'I' m done with your shit' look and gets up and walks away.

"Maybe you should just go to college already." She says as she walks away.

Maybe I will. Instead of looking for another job I can go to school. I grab my computer and open it up to the website for the University of Southern California.

I dial the number that is placed under the "meet an advisor" section, and wait for someone to answer.

Shortly, I have my tour of the school set up. Since I was already accepted in my senior year of high school, I don't have to apply again, they just accepted me.

"So this is the film department, where you'll be spending most of your class time. That's Professor Dillon's room; he's the screenwriting teacher…" I tune out. As much as I'm excited that I'm starting college in a week, I don't need to know where each class is. I can find my own way around. "Any questions?"

"No. I think I'm good."

"Alright. See you in a week then. We're excited to have you."