9

There’s one tiny problem, though. I hadn’t thought that the previous occupier of that spot, Nate, would refuse to leave his place for someone else. But I’ve been pushing him out gradually. Soon, I’ll get completely rid of him and maybe someone who actually likes me, like Chris, will fill it. So I type with shaky hands. Me: Sure! Chris: Can I come to your house or will your father rearrange my features? I smile, remembering Dad’s actual threats when Chris thought it was a good idea to pick me up on his bike. Me: He’s working over the weekend and won’t be home until late. We’re safe. Chris: Can’t wait to see you, beautiful. My heart shrinks at that word. Beautiful. Why does it hurt so much to hear Chris say it? Probably because he’s not the one I want to hear it from. Yeah, no. I’m not going there. I go back to picking up the shards of glass when movement outside catches in my peripheral vision. It can’t be. I lift my head so fast, I’m surprised I don’t snap a tendon. My eyes track him a