God, she haunted me. Every fucking step. I didn’t even want to blink in case she disappeared.
The group stopped at a stall with smoked barbecue and sweet tea. We huddled around a half-collapsed folding table, scarfing down sandwiches and chips.
Shane and I sat across from Sabrina and Amelia. The distance between us was measured in inches, but it may as well have been lifetimes.
Sabrina took a sip, green eyes sparkling. “You have to admit, this was a good idea. It’s nice to get out, pretend we’re just normal people.”
Shane wiped sauce from his mouth. “Speak for yourself. I’m normal.”
“You’re a psycho about fantasy football,” Sabrina shot back.
He shrugged. “At least I’m not a real estate mogul.”
They bantered, trading stories about old clients and the local haunted house. Smiles, laughter, all so easy. Like the past didn’t crawl from under the floorboards.
Amelia barely spoke. She picked at her food, gaze flicking up to meet mine every time she thought no one was looking. When our eyes locked, it was electric. No warmth. No comfort. Just the shock of all the words we couldn’t say.
Am I a monster? I don’t want to be. Should I be? Or should I be better? Should I want her? But fuck, I do. What is wrong with me?
My hands trembled under the table. I shoved them in my pockets.
After the food, we wandered through the craft booths. Shane kept buying snacks and handing them to her. Amelia trailed behind, shadow girl. I let myself drift with her, walking so close that our shoulders brushed.
“You like these stupid fairs?” I asked, voice low.
She shrugged, eyes locked on a candle stall. “I like the people watching.”
I leaned in, couldn’t help it. “You like watching me?”
A pause. Her breath hitched. “Not really.”
Fucking liar.
I almost smiled, but what came out was mean. “Sure about that? You used to look at me all the time.”
She turned, and for a second, I saw the fury in her. “Yeah, because I never knew what you’d do next.”
I liked her like this, spitting. Not brittle or small. I liked her angry, because it meant I mattered. Even if all I was good for was ruining her day.
“You still don’t,” I said. “Nobody does.”
Her lips parted, but she didn’t answer. She walked away, shoulders hunched. I watched every motion, hungry.
The rest of the night blurred. More stalls, more games. At one point, Sabrina convinced Amelia to try a ring toss. Amelia missed every shot. Shane made a show of cheering her on, shouting, “She’s better under pressure!” Sabrina jumped up and down, laughing like a kid.
I should have looked away. But I couldn’t.
I stood there, eating it up with my eyes. How she shivered when Shane touched her. How her laughter always faded after a second, like she was afraid to swallow too much happiness.
The ache in me throbbed: I wanted to be the one making her laugh. I wanted to be the only person she noticed, the only one who could make or break her. I wanted to hurt her, heal her, own her. I wanted everything.
I stood off to the side, hands jammed in my jeans, and watched her from the shadows.
At one point, Shane nudged me. “Hey, man, you checked out or something? You barely said two words all night.”
I grunted. “Not much to say.”
“Maybe you should talk to her,” he said, nodding towards Amelia. “She acts tough, but I think she misses you.”
