Chapter 12

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"Come on, come on," I mutter under my breath as I rock myself back and forth, with no intention of walking away from the door I'm standing in front of. The sign still says they're 'open'; I can see some light through the fogged up window, and it's only fifteen minutes past closing time. I'm only fifteen minutes late.

If my mother saw me like this, she would surely disown me.

With a sigh of impatience and what feels like self-pity, I knock on the door again; still no reply. I don't know which part of my brain thought this was a good idea, but here I am, at 11:16 on a Tuesday night, knocking on the door of a – most likely empty – diner.

It was probably the bored part of my brain. And the one that didn't want to go out with Seth tonight. And the one that wanted to see her – but I don't really think it was my brain that wanted to see her.

After waiting for another quarter of a minute, I decide that it's hopeless; she's probably just forgotten to turn the sign around, before she left the place. The light inside is probably coming from the fridges, where they keep the drinks and such. It's hopeless. Hopeless.

Another sigh leaves my lips as I keep repeating that word in my head, but it doesn't stop me from knocking for the third, and final time. However, just as I make a step back, I freeze in my spot when I hear a clicking sound coming from inside. Could it be..?

"We're clo- oh my God," I hear the all too familiar voice on the other side of the door, and see the all too familiar face through the blinds and yes, it definitely could be.

Angel unlocks the door and opens it, raising an eyebrow when she sees the triumphant grin on my face. "I'm not even gonna ask," She says after a few seconds, and takes a couple steps back, so that I can walk in.

"Good," I reply, my dumb grin preventing me from coming off as anything other than an excited infant. "You should know the answer by now."

She shakes her head lightly, as she closes the door and checks if she's locked it too. "I do, I just try to ignore it."

"Ignore it?" I slowly repeat, and find myself rocking back and forth on my feet again, as I watch her walk behind the bar. "Why'd you ignore it?"

"For your own safety," She replies loudly and before I can ask what the hell that even means, she's opened one of the fridges. "Beer?"

"Of course," I smile, and start walking towards the barstools on the opposite side of her. "Why are you still here? And what's this?"

"Well, not like it's any of your business," She points out as she walks over to the bar again, sliding the green bottle toward me after she opens it. "But I like to stay here for a while after my shift ends. And this, was scotch with ice ten minutes ago. Now it's basically scotch with water."

A little smirk appears on my face, as she brings the glass to her lips. "Do you drink as often as you smoke?"

Angel looks up at the ceiling while taking a sip of her drink, as if thinking about the answer. "Nah," She shakes her head, "I do even more things that I end up regretting when I drink."

She grips the object in her hand with both hands, and just stares at it, her eyebrows slightly furrowed. "Did you know that alcohol is worse than weed? Like, it does more damage to your body. And I think it's more addictive too."

I look away from her, and nod. "Yeah, I think I read that somewhere."

"And it's funny how politicians still legalize alcohol," She continues, still staring at her glass of scotch, and I begin to wonder whether or not she's had more of it before I came. "I used to be mad interested in politics. Then I realized that I would never make it in that world, because my point of view on life and how things should be is far different from the one that world leaders have."

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