CHAPTER TWO
A week has passed since the conversation in Atticus's room. It's the morning time, and I am in my own room now. I had left Atticus’s house about an hour after we had that conversation. Things got a little weird afterwards. It was all a bit of a shock to my system to be honest. I couldn't take Atticus seriously because it seemed so surreal and as sincere as he seemed with it, I allowed it to brush to the back of my mind as much as I could. I tossed and turned the first few nights after he had told me. Everything he said was running through my head.
Hacking? What even is hacking? If Atlas tells me it's illegal, isn't he admitting to me that he's doing something wrong?
I'm taken away from my thoughts as my phone starts vibrating.
I look down at my phone on my white vanity dresser in front of me, I had just been brushing my brunette hair in a trance like state.
Five new messages in the group chat. They're all from Chris. Chris is one of my closest friends, but I spend far less time with him than I do with Atticus.
"Who's free on the 23rd of May?🍻"
"Partyyyy. It's my 23rd birthday on the 23rd LOL! I say Vitamin R's for the pre funk at mine n then let's head to my girlfriend’s house she's throwing me a house partyyyy and you better ALL be there!'
I noticed Chris posting a new girl on his stories recently, but he hadn't mentioned a new girlfriend yet. I stop and pause for a moment, my eyes growing wide as I remember what Atticus had said.
I smile. It's an easy coincidence. He's better with numbers and dates than me.
I pick up my phone and start typing. My other best friend, named Olivia, has already confirmed she'll be there too, texting: "Not vitamin R Chris😠😭I'm bringing wine." I giggle, Vitimin R is Seattle's own beer and Olivia's biggest fear. I text my reply, "I will be there! Let us get lit!" and press send.
I continue brushing my hair, glancing at myself in the mirror. I'm meeting Olivia in around forty-five minutes in Central for brunch.
We live in the borough furthest southeast in Seattle, it's called Macacido. Technically it is still a part of Colombia City, the part you would be able to find on a map. We're such a small, populated district you cannot really find us on the maps or really call us a district, but all the cool kids here like to pretend we are separate from it.
Macacido is a quiet place and there's barely anything here, but the houses are damn nice, and it's filled with so much green space that you probably wouldn’t find yourself ever having any respiratory issues. I live in a blue and black house on the top of a hill; the coolest feature of it is that it has a walkway on a wooden bridge out the backyard to a mini summer house. It's the hottest spot for parties and my parents are chill and let me throw them whenever I want if I ask in advance.
I drive an old red Chevrolet but the short walks to my friend’s house have given me the nicest definition on my leg muscles. Walking, it takes around half an hour to get to each side of Macacido, I also like to take walks to the nearby parks and ocean views which make a big part of Seattle. We have a few stores and a supermarket, a library and a clothes store, and an old record store too. It's much better to take a drive to Colombia City or go more central if you really want to shop though as the options here are small.
Today, I'm taking my car to meet Olivia as she's desperate to try a new restaurant hot spot that's been blowing up on Instagram, so she can take some posts for her socials.
The weather's nice today and the mountains will be out, so I put on a pair of ripped shorts with long, hanging frays at its hems and a lacy black camisole. I wear a pair of white branded sneakers and exit my room, leaving the windows open. I trod down the grey carpeted stairs and move to the front door.
My parents aren't in. My dad works as a realtor and surprisingly they work long hours. My mom works as a nurse in Pill Hill. She usually works early morning and comes home in the evening but sometimes she'll work throughout the night.
When I open the front door the sizzling summer air hits me in the face, sticking to my skin. It's humid today.
I walk down the concrete stairs to the garage, pressing the button on my keys to open the door. Once inside, I unlock my car and get inside. I lean back in the leather seat for a moment and roll the windows all the way down before connecting my phone to the sound system. I turn the bass all the way up because that's my favorite thing about music besides the beat. I listen to indie rap, and I like jazz vibes too. Grunge is an important thing here; Seattle birthed and defined it and I listen to that on occasion. My music choices are cultured; I can chill to anything. Just not country, no offence I just cannot sit and listen to it.
I start driving fast trying to focus on the road and not the notifications on my phone, which is blowing up from the group chat. I notice Atticus has not responded yet and I wonder why. He's always awake before any of us. He works from home as a day trader, and he's pretty much awake all the time as he likes foreign markets too. I never understand his stock talk, but I blush when he makes a profit and his eyes light up. I even feel pain when his eyes are tired because he's lost some. I notice Olivia calling me on my phone so I answer it.
"Would you look at the mountains today!" She says in a loud sing song voice as soon as I answer.
Olivia has a pretty abnormally high nasally voice and she sounds way younger than she really is, but it really suits her. We all think she had a nose job one summer a few years back, we didn't see her for like eight weeks and when she got back, she looked a little different, well not a little, a lot. Though, she always denies it, so we do not pry into it, she says it's all fillers.
"I'm nowhere near yet!" I tell her, giving a nervous giggle.
Olivia is always early, and she despises bad punctuality.
"You suck Verona! Where are you?" She retorts.
I know she's mad but with her voice it's hard to take her seriously, I think it gives her an even bigger mean streak.
"I left maybe ten minutes ago; don't worry I'll be there on time," I reassure her.
"Well, you better be! I'm wearing the shortest shorts you can imagine because I'd be dumb to waste this weather. I don't wanna wait around alone on the street looking like a hooker!" She explains, the sound of frustration still wavering in her voice.
"I promise I'll be there, just stay in your car if I'm late," I say.
"Late! Late! Oh my God Verona…" Her voice starts trailing off into a panic of gibberish and she hangs the phone up.
Yes, she can be a diva.
I try not to laugh again, I know there's a lot of crimes going on, but she's way too dramatic. I press down a little harder on my pedal to get there faster, even though I know I will make it with time to spare anyway.
Olivia waits outside of her car, leaning against it with her arms crossed when I get there. Her shorts are short but not the shortest. She is wearing a white crop top and some small heels with gold ribbons that tie up. I furrow my brow as I look at her, I'm underdressed as usual. Or perhaps, that's her. I park my car behind her matte black rover and quickly exit my car.
"Verona!" She greets, and she walks up to me, kissing me on both sides of my cheeks. Pretty European style but she is a pure Seattleite.
"You're not that late," she says between loud kisses.
"I'm not late at all," I correct her.
She rolls her eyes and lets out a laugh, like butter would not melt. I used to fall for it when I first met her but now, I know that Olivia is filled with fire and that butter would not melt but would burn. That sounds bad but I like her, she's direct, straight to the point and a lot of the time she's painfully honest. She wouldn't bite a persons head off unless they were rude.
"Well let's go in, I'm so excited! I am a little overdressed," she exclaims.
I was wrong, she's overdressed. I follow Olivia to the restaurant, It doesn't look that special. She looks back at me as we enter, like I should be impressed but it's still just an average looking store to me, despite the fact it is already packed out and it is half past ten on a Tuesday morning.
"Do you have a table reservation?" The hostess asks us.
She's dressed in all red with a tiny apron. A reservation for brunch? I'm interested. This must be something special.
"We do! I have a table for two under the name Olivia Munchkin!"
Yes, her surname really is Munchkin, that youthful voice really does suit her. The hostess leads us to our table at the side by the back windows. The whole wall is all glass, and I can see out the back where they have a small garden for outside seating, a small view of the mountain is in sight at the skyline. The hostess hands us our menu and explains how it works here. She says she'll be back within five minutes to take our order.
Olivia smiles widely, putting her small handbag down to her side, looking a little frustrated that she must put it down on the floor. She looks down at her menu and her smile soon reappears.
"Wow! My stomach is rumbling just looking," she says, looking pretty content as she rests her face in her hands while reading.
She has pin straight, jet black dyed hair and it falls down to her waist. She's a natural blonde, but I haven't seen her hair its natural color since we were younger. She sits with her back straight, wearing a bracelet and necklace set with Swarovski crystals. Olivia likes to wear fake tan all year round; it's hard to catch a tan in Seattle, even in the summer. Its spring, yet she looks like she has just got off a plane from Cabo. She has heavy makeup on, her lashes done with extensions in a set so thick, I can barely see her hazel eyes at times. I think she was pretty naturally and she doesn't need makeup, fillers, or a suspected nose job, but its Olivia and that's what makes her happy.
"I think I'll order the eggs Florentine with smashed avocado toast," she tells me.
I look down at the menu and browse through. I don't really feel like breakfast food and they have a selection of pasta's and snacks. I decide between the linguine and a good old-fashioned Seattle jojo. Jojo's are a Seattle staple; thick, seasoned potato wedges served with condiments. Usually ketchup and mayonnaise, I like to mix them together to make an orange sauce. I tend to mix more mayonnaise than tomato as I find tomato ketchup quite tangy.
Thinking about it, I decide to order both.
Another waitress arrives at the table and asks us if we're ready to order.
"I'll have the eggs Florentine with smashed avocado toast and a super food smoothie," Olivia orders.
I had completely forgotten about hydration. I turn my menu over and stare down at the list. They have choices from soft drinks to smoothies and thick milkshakes and even a small selection of house wines. I bite my lip as I am torn between the same as Olivia which has spinach, kale, mango, and acai berries with a flaxseed foam or just a standard vanilla milkshake with crushed Oreos. I move my head side to side in small motions and finally decide on the smoothie.
"I'll have the salmon linguine with a portion of Jojo’s and a super food smoothie as well," I order.
The waitress nods her head and picks our menus up.
"Good choice." She says and begins to walk away.
"I don't know where you put it all." Olivia says to me as soon as the waitress leaves our sight. "I just look at a fry and I look pregnant," she looks sadly at the table.
Olivia is super thin, and she likes to spend a lot of time at the gym with her gym partner Bunny. She usually brings her along to parties as a plus one; she's fun and a massive free spirit. A massive feminist, I bumped into her once at an equal pay protest in Capitol and she was burning her bra.
"You should treat yourself and indulge in a cheat meal once in a while, Olivia. You'll wake up in the morning and already have given birth," I say, slightly uncertain about how to respond to her comment.
"It takes pregnant women months to recover their bodies, if they even do, Verona!" She retorts.
I give her a dumbfounded smile and shrug my shoulders.
"What's new with you anyway? Did you meet up with Atticus?" She asks me.
"Yeah, I met up with him last week. He's good." I tell her.
"He's not just good, he's filthy. Did you ask him when I get best friend privileges? I am trying to chill around his house and have lunch with his mom," she laughs.
I feel slightly tense, its annoying when my friends ask so much about him. Atticus is popular and I'm not jealous; but I'm also not his scribe. I roll my eyes at her and force a smile.
"Oh, Livi, Livi, Livia. You're both friends, why don't you ask him to hang out?" I voice my thoughts, feeling a pang of bitterness.
She laughs at me and fidgets in her chair a little.
"I could. You sound a little bitter there, Verona. Why don't you ask him?" She says obnoxiously.
"I do. I spent time together with him last week and I'm not bitter," I say defiantly.
The waitress comes to the table and places our freshly made smoothies in front of us. The flaxseed foam looks innovative. I wonder how they manage to get it to stay like that and not sink. Olivia takes her phone from in front of her, beginning to take photos of herself from different heights and angles.
"Your food will be around ten minutes," the waitress informs us, Olivia nods at her and the waitress strides away from the table with the metal tray under her arm.
"How are you feeling after your breakup with Mark?" She continues her pestering.
"I'm pretty much over it," I explain. "It wasn't really that serious."
"I thought you date to marry?" She speaks using a friendly tone.
"I do, but my boyfriends don’t." I answer gloomily. Although I go on more dates than some, I'm still a virgin. I just feel I haven't met anyone worthwhile yet.
"Don't say it like that Verona! You're a sweetheart, that's why the flies always stick to you." She comforts me, flashing me a friendly smile.
I ease up, smiling at her. She reaches down in her handbag, pulling out her lipstick. She takes a big slurp from her straw in her smoothie, and then reapplies her lipstick.
"I'm going to need a lip scrub after this, this matte lipstick cracks like a druggie," she tells me and sighs.
We spend the next ten minutes engaging in conversation. She fills me in on all the latest dramas she's heard about the people we went to high school with, apparently a girl in our old class fell while hiking Mount Rainier and lost a thumb, the doctors weren’t able to attach it back, so she only has a thumb and eight fingers now. In better news, our old dance teacher and our English teacher are hooking up and it sounds like they will marry soon. How Olivia gets hold of all off this information, I have no idea. She explains her parents' marriage is getting even rockier. They've been arguing constantly the past month and her father decided to stay at a motel week.
The waitress interrupts our conversation and places our food down in front of us.
"Here is the eggs Florentine and salmon linguine. I'll be right back with your Jojo’s," she says.
"Well, are they getting a divorce?" I ask her.
She looks down at her food, I can tell she's tense, noticing her almost concealed twangs of pain behind her exterior. "No!" Olivia says, "I don't think so. Anyway, how can we continue that mundane conversation when there is a big plate of tasty food just screaming to be eaten?"
She gets her phone again and begins taking photos.
"Can you take a photo of me with the plate? Oh no! I should have asked you to take one without the food, but I was so wrapped up with talking!"
"It’s okay, Olivia," I say and take her phone from her. She's probably taken around a hundred photos since we arrived at the restaurant.
I take a few photos at her most flattering angles, as she strikes a few different poses. I hand her the phone back, as the waitress rejoins, placing the jojo's center of the table. As she walks away Olivia says to me in a grossed-out voice:
"Ugh, get those away from me!"
"One won't hurt you, Olivia," I say, tattering quietly.
I know she really likes Jojo’s. When we were in kindergarten, Olivia was a little chubby. Not like, overweight, just a little bigger than most other kids. She frowns and stares intently at them sitting in front of her.
"Oh, I shouldn't. I have cardio at seven with Bunny," she protests.
"Even more reason to indulge. You'll work them right off," I speak encouragingly.
"Then I should've ordered my own," she whines. I wonder if she's making excuses.
"Then order your own. Anyway, look at this portion of pasta, let's just half the jojo's," I suggest. She looks a little sour for a moment before giving in.
The food is presented like a six-star restaurant. I know that's not a thing, but they have invented a new scale. The Jojo’s are in a big ceramic grey bowl on a bed of watercress and edible flowers, they're surrounding two circular navy-blue bowls of ketchup and mayonnaise. The linguine is in a large off-white bowl in a white sauce with bright green herbs. I decide to take a photo for my socials too. Olivia's uses the best filters, I'm not as social media active as she is, so I don't have a large selection, but this food doesn't need a filter. I'll post it later as the sun is glaring onto my phone and I can hardly see.
Olivia and I simultaneously reach for a thick, crispy wedge and munch down on them rolling our eyes in pleasure and giggling to each other. Straight after, I dip the bowl of mayonnaise into the ketchup and mix the sauces together with a wedge.
"Filthy," she remarks, picking up her knife and fork to start devouring her Florentine.
As she cuts into her egg the yolk begins to ooze out onto the avocado toast beneath it. We spend some time eating in silence, savoring the taste of the meal, Olivia finally breaks the silence.
"It's almost my birthday. I'm so excited, I'm going to start planning tonight,” she says.
I look up from my plate and straight at her, remembering what Atticus said.
I decide to pry a little, "oh yeah, do you know what you'll be doing?" I ask.
"Well, there's a new club in SoDo I really want to try," she says.
My eyes shoot right open, Atticus' voice begins rumbling through my mind, my eyes shifting out of focus as his voice tumbles over the railings of my thoughts.
"In SoDo?" I repeat, almost unable to say it.
"I know, SoDo! Not really me, right? Total druggy area but this new place sounds lit. Bunny went there the other day, and she says they have good music," She explains far too casually for my spirits.
She's right. SoDo really isn't her style. It's quite industrial and a little rougher round the edges, Olivia's classier, I'd have expected her to choose someplace in Bell Town or something.
"Right," I say, my mind failing to stop directing towards Atticus.
"It will be fun Verona! The druggies are not that bad; besides, we'll have the guys to protect us," Olivia teases.
I think about telling her what Atticus had told me before, but I decide not to. He did tell me not to tell anyone and a promise is sacred.
"Yes! I know it'll be fun. I'll be there, tell me if you need any help planning," I tell her.
"Well, we need to go shopping!" She replies enthusiastically.
"When?" I ask her, my eyes begin to trail off to the right as I begin thinking about Atticus again.
"Let's go next weekend. I'm bored!" She demands.
I hear what she says but my mind continues turning. I feel the hairs raising on the nape of my neck, realizing that the things that Atticus had said were coming true. Though none of it made sense, I let out a sigh subconsciously, biting my lip hard, only to flinch as I draw blood.
"Helloo? Earth to Verona? Are you okay?" Olivia says loudly, staring at me strangely.
"Oh, sorry," I answer, staring through her blankly.
She stares hard at me, a mixture of confused and concerned.
"Are you okay? She asks me.
"Yes... Let's go shopping on Saturday."
Chapter Three↷
