Chapter 2

The girl was there in the diner again, he noticed as he drove by. She poured a steaming cup of coffee into the last costumer's mug and began to wipe of tables. Always there, working in the diner. How had he never seen her before?

Impulse took over and Darry pulled over and grabbed the key from the ignition. All the while wondering why he had decided to do such a thing.

A bell rang. She looked up and immediately recognized him. She remembered every face she ever saw. Including his. His eyes were cold, but in a different way then her own.

"Small black coffee, please." He said to her, sitting down on a stool in front of her.

"For here or to go?" She avoided his eyes.

He knew that he should go home; Pony and Soda would be waiting.

"Here." He said, watching her sharp awkward movements as she poured his coffee.

"Cole," A curly haired, bright eyed brunette poked her head out from the kitchen door, "Can you lock up for me today, I've got to go."

She glanced at her watch and nodded, "Yes I will, I'll see you tomorrow Anne."

"Yeah right!" The brunette laughed, "Tomorrow's my day off, remember?"

"Oh," Cole nodded.

"Hey you should take off too. We'll go catch a movie or something."

"No, that's alright," Her eyes had a little amusement in them, but her lips remained straight.

"See ya' later, Cole." She grinned, and disappeared behind the door, reminding Cole of the Cheshire cat.

The other customer left and Darry felt as if he was alone, which was an odd feeling, being that the waitress was still there, beginning to wipe off tables.

"Sorry," Darry began to stand, "I must be holding you up."

"No," she said, "I still have another quarter of an hour." She didn't look at him.

He sat back down as the phone rang on the back wall.

"Hello," Her sharp voice pierced the air, "Yes Uncle," there was an immediate change in her tone, out of either compassion or obedience. Which one of the two, Darry did not know, "Yes I will be home soon. Yes, I'll pick up some milk on the way home. Yes Uncle, Goodnight."

She hung up the phone and sighed, gently pulling on her crimson scarf around her black locks. It would be over a miles walk today, having to go out of her way for milk.

"Do you always wear that scarf?" He spoke his thoughts outloud..

Although he spoke barely over a whisper, she turned around and gazed at him with her cold eyes. It was the first time that night that her eyes met with his. She stood sturdy, looking tough, but he could see the terror hidden in her eyes. How could he know about her scarf? She wondered why she was so startled.

"Yes," she hissed.

"I'm sorry," he said, trying not to look away from her, even though her cold glare sent chills through him, "I didn't mean to scare you. I saw you the other night and you were wearing...I'm sorry." He finished lamely, staring fixedly on his empty mug.

He placed two dollars on the counter and left.

Her mind followed him, but her eyes didn't.

She locked up and walked all the way to the center of town for a carton of milk, but what for? The store was closed by the time she arrived. She turned around and walked home.

"Uncle!" She called through the hallway, but there came no answer.

"Uncle!" She called again, her voice ringing throughout the entire house. Her footsteps echoed ominously as she continued to scurry about the kitchen. A dark bird fluttered to the window as the doorbell rang.

She peeked out of the window before yanking on the doorknob. In the frame of the doorway two uniformed officers stood before her, their badges gleaming from the soft streetlight.

"Excuse me ma'am, are you Cossette Peters?" The tall man asked with a thick southern accent.

"Yes," Her lips barely moved.

"We tried to contact you at your work, ma'am, but it was all locked up. Your uncle has been taken to the hospital, we believe he has had a stroke."

"How bad is he?" She asked, somehow not utterly shocked by the news.

"Let us take you up there and the doctor will fill you in," the other, shorter man spoke.

She nodded and locked up the house before leaving.

The waitress stepped out of the police car, surprisingly calm and after sitting in the waiting room for a few hours the doctor came out to tell her that the stroke was only minor and, to her relief, he insisted that she go home. She was glad to oblige.

With an aching back and legs, she crawled into bed; the bird was perched on her bedpost, snapping its head towards the windows at any sign of movement.

She went to visit her aged uncle in the hospital before leaving for work. He flashed her his normal grin before resting his head back on the pillow and sighing.

"Get some rest Uncle." She said to him, letting him take her hand, "I'll be back after work."

"Yes," he said, "Rest sounds wonderful. Goodbye Cossette."

Familiar faces rushed passed her, craving their morning caffeine. There seemed to be more people that day, rushing around and demanding orders. She felt more tired then usual and her eyes were swollen and dark.

The sun was setting by the time she got a chance to sit down. She was alone in the front again, but she was sure that someone was still back in the kitchens. The feeling of the cool countertop against her head soothed her.

A bell rang and startled her. She sat up.

"I'm sorry," The man smiled.

"No- "She placed her hand on her pounding forehead, "How can I help you?" She asked.

"Small black coffee when you get the chance." He smiled.

"For here or to go?" She asked him.

He knew that he should go home; Pony and Soda would be waiting.

"Here."

I'm sorry its so short. I'll try to make them longer. Thanks to both my reviewers.

-Avenging Angel