It’s okay if they think I’m a crazy psycho bitch.
It’s okay if they think I’m a slut.
I stop outside the building and pull my phone out again.
Pandora
I’m coming over
If they cared, they wouldn’t have done what they did.
I delete the message before I send it.
Shit. Kavita is wrong. The three of them are perfect, they didn’t mean to do it, theydocare about me. Blaze apologized, and that means something, because entitled manbabies like him never apologize for anything.
Asch never apologized.
River’s apology was stupid.
He hates me anyway.
I reach into my pocket and grip the charm, except it isn’t warm. It’s cold, and rough, and it tries to scrape the skin from my fingers.
No, no, no.
This isn’t happening.
I redownload the hook-up app I’d used in NB, cursing when it takes me three tries to log in. Harmony is a lot smaller, but there have to be some guys who want to plow a nineteen-year-old college girl. Probably old businessmen who need somebody to stroke their ego and give them a reason to pretend they’re definitely going to leave their wives any day now.
I end up finding a guy who claims to be twenty-seven. He wants to meet up at a bar, and I typeI can’t legally drink, to which he responds that he’ll buy the drinks for me.
Fucking creep.
That’s exactly what I need.
I run to the parking lot. I get my key fob out, but the ground is slippery so I stumble, and something pulls at my hands. I lose hold of the key fob. It disappears into the dark asphalt, black on black on black on black.
“Shit,” I mutter, getting onto my knees to find it. I reach blindly under my car, but all I get are loose bits of asphalt that cut through my skin.
The wet paving wraps around my limbs and drags me down.
Why the fuck is this happening now? I’m fine! I don’t hallucinate when I’mfine.
“Fuck off!” I yell at the monster trying to pull me into the ground. “I know you aren’t fucking real! I don’t need you to tell me I’m crazy!”
I sob, then tighten my hold on my phone. I turn the flashlight on, and of course there’s nothing there.
Well, my key fob is there.
I reach for it.
Nothing pulls my hand down.
I click the button to unlock my car and I get inside. It’s even colder in here, like the faint light from the street lamps had been warming the asphalt.
I turn the car on and grip the steering wheel.
Drive to the bar, fuck the creep. Maybe kill the creep.
