It's In My Blood
“They were out of creamer,” said Jace as he placed the cup of steaming black coffee in front of me. I flipped to the next page in the People magazine I was reading. “Sorry.”
“That’s fine,” I said, without looking up and flipping a lock of light brown hair over my shoulder. “Thanks.”
“Has the Target shown?” he asked, taking a seat a crossed from me.
“Nope,” I said, still not looking up. We were sitting outside of the popular Clamant Café, sipping coffee, and in Jace’s case, Mountain Dew. Jace had never been one for the bitter taste of coffee.
While at the same time, waiting for the man we referred to as simply, the ‘Target’.
“How do you do that?
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