At around seven in the evening, the café closed up. Stacey bade the three waitresses goodbye, with Donna granting her a bone-snapping hug. Once Anne had locked up the café, she and Stacey climbed into her van and drove off.

"So, how d'you like them?" Anne asked.

"They're nice," Stacey responded.

"I told you, didn't I?" Anne grinned as she carefully took a right turn around a corner.

"I like the café," Stacey commented in a murmur. "It's like a nice little hangout. And you serve good coffee too."

"I'm known for my coffee," Anne winked, to which Stacey laughed at.

In a mere matter of minutes, the two arrived at the McClain residence. After jumping out of the car, they entered their home and kicked their shoes off.

Stacey followed Anne to the kitchen, where Frank sat with a book in hand. The words To Kill A Mockingbird were written on the front of the book.

"I love that book," Stacey said as Frank looked up and graced her and Anne with a smile.

"It's great, but don't spoil anything," he warned. "I'm only half finished."

"Got it."

"So how was your day?" he asked, marking his page and placing the book down on the table. "How'd you like the girls?"

"Well, Donna gave her about twenty hugs," Anne said.

Frank chuckled. "That sure sounds like Donna."

"Kate and Elly are actually normal, so they were fine with her," she finished off cheekily.

"Well, that's good to hear!" he said, standing up and clapping his hands together. "I made us some pie while you were gone. Lemon meringue."

Stacey's nearly drooled at the mere sound. Lemon meringue pie had been her favourite kind of pie for as long as she could remember.

Soon, Frank offered her a plate with a slice of the mouth-watering pie. After taking it with a thanks, she dug her fork into the crust and sunk it to the meringue itself, along with the egg white frosted on the crust. She took the bite and contained the swoon that nearly left her lips. The lemon was simply lovely, the flavour bursting in her mouth, making her taste buds dance.

"That boy came in today," Anne told Frank once they both had a slice themselves. Stacey's ears perked up, and her head snapped up to listen. "The one that never talks."

"Ah," Frank said softly.

"I didn't like the way he looked at Stacey," Anne continued bitterly. Stacey blushed.

"Oh, he doesn't talk, Anne," Frank said reassuringly. "He won't bother her. Did he bother you today, Stace?"

"Hm? Oh..." Stacey licked her lips to gather up the remaining flavour of lemon and shrugged. "He didn't do or say anything to me, so... no."

"You see, Annie?" Frank said. "Nothing to worry about."

"Oh, alright," Anne sighed. "I suppose I'm only tired. We were pretty busy today after all."

Stacey nodded in agreement. "It was a long day for me too, so I might go to bed early," she informed them. "I'd like to get up early tomorrow to look around town."

"Oh, of course," Anne said. "Do you want another slice?"

Stacey shook her head. "I should take a shower now," she said. "I feel gross."

Anne and Frank laughed in response as she headed up the staircase for a shower.

***

The sun rose delicately slowly the next morning. Once it had begun to rise, the midnight-blue sky morphed into a warmer shade of blue with tints of light pink. The rays of sunshine poured through the window of Stacey's bedroom, brightening it up to indicate the morning hour. Stacey, who was never a morning person, found the sky captivating to look at.

She rolled off her bed and opened her closet. She pulled out a pair of ripped jeans and her favourite Beatles t-shirt. She then left her room to the bathroom to get herself ready for the new day.

Once she had brushed her teeth and hair and gotten herself dressed, she raced down the staircase and headed to the kitchen to grab a quick breakfast. Inside, Frank was drinking a tall glass of pure orange juice with a bagel, fully dressed to go to the bank. He smiled once Stacey entered.

"Morning Stace," he greeted. "Didn't think you'd be up this early. I was about to write a note."

"I tend to wake up early," Stacey replied. "Where's Mom?"

"Left about a half hour ago," he said. "I'll be leaving too in ten minutes, so help yourself to some breakfast. We have some leftover pancakes from yesterday morning if you want."

"Thanks Frank," Stacey said gratefully as she pulled the refrigerator door open. "I'll probably just butter up some toast. I want to go as soon as possible."

"If you insist," Frank chortled. "You can go to your mother's café if you need something to eat."

"If I get hungry, I'll do that," she grinned.

Soon, exactly ten minutes later, Frank uttered a hasty goodbye and left to the bank for work, leaving Stacey sitting by the table, munching on her buttered toast and sipping her orange juice.

After chewing on the last bite of the toast and draining the last few drops of her orange juice, she grabbed her handbag, draped it over her shoulder, and burst through the front door to explore the little town of Whitwick.

As she started down the sidewalk, she waved to the neighbours who were spending their morning outside on their front porches. The neighbours waved back, shouting different variations of hello's and good morning's. Some had even granted her a warm welcome to Whitwick. She smiled brightly to them and herself; she felt like she truly belonged there, even though she had only spent a day there. Everyone was so polite, just as Anne and the waitresses had told her.

Well... almost everyone.

"Which way are you goin', huh?" she faintly heard a voice sneer somewhere down the road near her mother's café.

"Nothing? Boy, you ought to show us some respect!" another voice said warningly.

Stacey could make out four silhouettes as she neared the sound of the voices. She could see that one of them was trying to push past the other three, but was roughly shoved back every time.

Once she came to a stop, she was shocked to see that the one trying to escape the other three was the boy that had stopped by at the café yesterday. The one that Kate had claimed to be rude. The other three boys, all dressed in sweatpants and muscle shirts, seemed to be pushing him around.

"What're you doing?" Stacey called, dashing to the four boys.

The boys turned to her, and the unusual, quiet one that went to the café raised his eyebrows, seeming to recognize her.

"Run along, little lady," the black-haired boy said, waving his hand, gesturing for her to leave. "This doesn't concern you."

"Well, hang on, Steve," said the sandy-haired boy beside him. "Ain't she the new girl that moved in with Anne yesterday?"

"Ah," said the black-haired boy, Steve. "Right you are, Nick. You Anne's kid or something?"

Stacey gulped nervously, but kept on a brave face. "I am," she responded. "And she's told me about you. She said that you were a good guy."

"Well, your mom's got good taste," Steve smirked.

"Apparently not," Stacey retaliated. "Why're you picking on him?" She nodded towards the blue-eyed boy, who stared at her with knitted eyebrows. Almost like he was examining her.

"He never talks, does he?" the last boy with the almond-shaped eyes shrugged. "We think he needs to show a little respect." He glared at the boy with cold narrowed eyes.

"Just because he's quiet doesn't mean he's rude," Stacey argued. "Aren't you being rude by provoking him like that?"

"Aw," Nick snorted. "Seems like new girl here has a crush on him. Don't you think, Tim?"

"Cute," Tim said, his voice tightening with sarcasm.

She blushed. "No," she denied. "I just don't think you should pick on him like that. Leave him alone."

Steve eyed her curiously for seconds, making her shift uncomfortably on her feet. She felt as if he was looking through her, like he had X-ray vision.

Then, he smiled coldly. "I will," he said slowly. "I will if... if you go out with me."

Stacey's thin eyebrows shot up in surprise. Her breath got caught in her throat, almost enabling her to breathe properly.

With an exhale, she pushed past the three boys and reluctantly placed her hand on the blue-eyed boy's shoulder. "I'd rather go out with a squid, you bastard," she shot back at Steve.

"Ooh, she's got a mouth on her, boys!" Steve laughed hysterically.

Stacey sighed. She turned to the boy beside her, who kept his eyes on her, as if they were permanently glued to her. "Come on," she muttered to him.

He didn't respond, just as she expected, though she was surprised and privately pleased that he obeyed. He followed her towards Anne's café. They could hear the three boys cackling behind them, making Stacey roll her eyes.

"How annoying," she said under her breath as they reached the front of the café. She turned to him with a worried expression. "Are you ok?" she asked nervously.

The boy, again, uttered no reply. However, he nodded.

"Well... I'm happy you're alright," she said timidly.

No reply.

"Do you remember me?" she questioned curiously. "I was at the café yesterday. You probably know Anne, my mother."

He nodded wordlessly. He kept his mouth clamped shut.

"I... My name's Stacey," she said. "Stacey Russell. I moved in with my mom and my stepdad just yesterday."

A single nod of his head.

"I-is there a name I can call you by?" Stacey asked shyly, her cheeks turning an endearing shade of red.

This time, nothing. He looked her in the eyes unblinkingly, like he was captivated. She gazed back, feeling too afraid to look away. She couldn't help but blink, but he was still there. She was confused. What was it about him that made him so... intriguing and mysterious?

The door of the café flew open, and Anne's head poked outside. "Stacey, come inside," she said. "You look like you could use a muffin."

"Coming," Stacey replied. When the door closed, she turned back to the boy and stuttered, "I-I should go." She cleared her throat and started to awkwardly back away towards the door. "Bye..."

She quickly turned away from him, forcing her eyes to unglue themselves off him, and grasped her hand around the door knob. She turned it and proceeded to open it.

"Jesse."

Stacey nearly gasped at the sound of the new voice. Of the voice she finally heard for the first time. She spun around to see that the boy was still standing behind her firmly in place.

"What?" she asked almost eagerly.

The boy took a deep breath. "My name's Jesse," he said quietly. "Jesse Miller."

Stacey slowly nodded her head. "Oh... Well, it's nice to meet you," she said kindly. "Maybe I'll see you around?"

Jesse Miller nodded his head, tearing his eyes away from her to the floor.

With a small grin to herself, she turned and entered the café.