  11
      Saturday—I was sitting in my empty house, watching the news in the living room because I was too lazy to find the remote.
      The doorbell rang. I thought it was a package delivery because my dad loved wasting his money on old vinyl records or first edition books.
      When I opened the front door, my head tilted quizzically.
      &quot;Miller? What are you doing at my house?&quot;
      Zac grinned at me, amusement washing over his features. &quot;Nice to see you too, Bloom.&quot;
      He allowed himself into my house, walking right past me. I gaped at him. &quot;What—what are you doing here?&quot;
      &quot;Nice home,&quot; he glanced around. &quot;Very—homey.&quot;
      I narrowed my eyes, baffled.What the hell was he doing here?
      &quot;Zac.&quot; I grabbed his arm, pulling him to stop wandering around like an elf and look at me. &quot;What are you doing here?&

  12
      I got to school late because I slept in.
      I was pulling my books out of my locker, the hallway was empty because class had already started so I wad the only one here. Or so I thought.
      &quot;Hey, Jazzy,&quot; Lucas walked over and leaned against the locker beside mine. He crossed his arms over his chest and gave me his usual arrogant little smirk. He just got here and his eyes were already dancing with amusement.
      I mentally groaned. I shut my eyes and exhaled through my noes, trying to keep my calm. This was really not how I wanted to start my day.
      I turned to look at him, plastering on the most forced and fake smile I could manage. &quot;Lucas, always a pleasure to see you.&quot;
      He quirked an eyebrow, growing more amused because he could already easily see he was getting under my skin. He didn't even have to try, his presence simply irritated me b

  10
      I was bent down on the ground with my head in my knees, crying in the middle of the bathroom—luckily nobody was in here.
      The door opened but I couldn't stop crying. I tried to stop and compose myself before someone saw me in the midst of a breakdown but I could not stop. I couldn't get the crying to stop.
      It was a waterfall. A burst water pipe.
      &quot;Hey,&quot; a soft voice spoke. Someone bent down, wrapping their arms around me. &quot;It's okay. Just—breathe.&quot;
      I continued crying and sobbing for a minute. I sniffled, my breath hitching as I raised my head.
      I wiped my cheeks with the back of my hand. My legs were shaking I slowly stood up.
      &quot;What are you doing here?&quot; I whispered, my voice cracking.
      Zac smiled sadly, running a hand through my hair. &quot;Are you okay?&quot;
      I shrugged weakly, staring at his sweatshirt

11
      Saturday—I was sitting in my empty house, watching the news in the living room because I was too lazy to find the remote.
      The doorbell rang. I thought it was a package delivery because my dad loved wasting his money on old vinyl records or first edition books.
      When I opened the front door, my head tilted quizzically.
      &quot;Miller? What are you doing at my house?&quot;
      Zac grinned at me, amusement washing over his features. &quot;Nice to see you too, Bloom.&quot;
      He allowed himself into my house, walking right past me. I gaped at him. &quot;What—what are you doing here?&quot;
      &quot;Nice home,&quot; he glanced around. &quot;Very—homey.&quot;
      I narrowed my eyes, baffled.What the hell was he doing here?
      &quot;Zac.&quot; I grabbed his arm, pulling him to stop wandering around like an elf and look at me. &quot;What are you doing here?&quot;
      &quot;Here I thought you'd be happy to see me. You're already breaking my heart,

Chapter 11