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“Because it isn’t true!”

Is it?

“Ash isn’t anything like his father,” Tessa says. “At all.”

“And how would you know?”

Tessa shrugs. “I’ve been here. Met him many times over the years.”

“Dylan didn’t seem so pleased to see him.”

“Dylan can be an idiot sometimes.” Tessa sighs again. “He and Asher drifted apart over the years. Dylan always blamed Asher for turning so cold with you in high school.”

“I blame Asher for that, too.”

“Maybe he’s changed. Zane says he has. He vouches for Ash. Give him a chance.”

I so don’t want to talk about

this anymore. “I’m going up. Good night, Tess.”

“Audrey.”

I pause with my car door open. “What?”

“That boy is hot. And he wants you.”

“No, he doesn’t. He never has.”

And that’s that as far as I’m concerned. I’m not falling into that trap again.

***

Fall rolls into winter seamlessly, the sky growing darker, the nights longer. Thanksgiving break comes, and everyone drives home to their families.

My mom’s busy working on one project or another, as usual. We never celebrated much after the accident. It’s as if happiness left with my dad and all that’s left is work and emptiness.

Everything comes and goes—joy, love, life—in an endless tide, leaving dead things behind. I can’t let myself get caught in the wave again.

So I throw myself into my studies, avoiding parties and cafes a certain someone might frequent. Dylan calls quite a few times and Tessa tries all her tricks to bring me “out of my shell” as she puts it, including inviting me to a chocolate fondue evening at her favorite cafe. What can I say, I’m a sucker for chocolate in all forms.

Chocolate and bad boys.

But I love my shell. My cozy little world where I can forget the past and dream of a future without haunting memories and the pain they bring.

I’m happy in my own way. A bit bored and lonely sometimes. But safe.

It’s not exactly what I hoped for when I came back to Madison. I wanted to meet new people and have fun. But the trade off—boredom for a measure of calm—seems a fair one.

So okay, maybe my reaction is a bit extreme. Hiding from everyone, cowering. The thing is, I don’t really hate Ash. He makes me feel—too many conflicting things, things I’m not yet prepared to face.

It never crosses my mind that I’ll be wrenched out of my shell so violently.

Today it’s Monday, and I should know on Mondays Murphy’s Law is in full force. But I’m not thinking about that. I’m walking to the bus stop after a late biology class. I don’t like walking alone through this part of the campus; it’s dark and deserted, but I’ve successfully managed to push my old friends away with my voluntary solitary confinement, and my mind is on an essay I have to turn in tomorrow.

I just need to catch the bus, get home and bury myself in the paper I’m writing, curled up on my sofa with a hot cup of cocoa. I’ll also call my mom.

That’s what my social life has been reduced to.

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