“Don’t give me that death-stare! Jeez, you’re so touchy when it comes to her.”
Gritting my teeth, I glance back at the stars. “Sorry.”
Andy is silent for a long stretch, then clears his throat. “Look, it’s none of my business, man. I don’t know what went down between you and Snyder, or why he’d bother trying to start something with your girl when it’s clear to anyone with eyes that you two are star-crossed lovers or some shit like that. But I do know one thing. If you’re so crazy about her, you should tell her.Soon. Before everything changes. It might be your last chance.”
I offer nothing in response. But as I stare up at the night sky, his words churn over and over inside my head, stirring up unwelcome emotions. Making me want things I can’t have.
After a few minutes, the JV players begin to arrive, their headlights flashing brightly in the parking lot as they herd the uncooperative drunkards into their back seats. Andy and I start walking toward the parking lot. Our gaits are both a bit staggered.
“It’s because I’m so crazy about her,” I say haltingly as we pass home plate.
“What?”
I look at him. “The reason I can’t risk telling her how I feel. It’s because I’m so crazy about her.”
“Dude… that makes no fucking sense.”
“Welcome to my life.”
Chapter Twenty-One
JOSEPHINE
There’sa giant hornet flying around inside my head. Burrowing between my ears with a relentless drone. Pushing me toward consciousness.
Bzzzzzz.
Bzzzzzz.
Bzzzzzz.
I sit up in bed, the dream fragmenting into fuzzy images of incandescent wings and yellow stripes. It takes a moment to register that the sound I’m hearing is not happening inside my head. It’s coming from the front door access panel, downstairs in the atrium. Someone is ringing the guest buzzer at the outer gate.
What the hell?
It’s the middle of the night — the world outside my windows is a grayscale painting, awash in strokes of ebony. The clock on my bedside table reads 1:35AM.
Who would come here this late?
My stomach turns to stone as memories of yesterday morning come rushing back. Those men, in the parking lot…
Is it them?
Are they here?
Somehow, I doubt they’d bother ringing the bell.
It took me ages to fall asleep, even with a state-of-the-art security system to alert me to any intruders. I’m actually surprised I managed to nod off at all. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw a pockmarked cheek and cold black eyes. I heard a voice, chill with malice.
See you soon, sweetheart.
My mental exhaustion must’ve finally outweighed my anxiety. I wore myself out with worry all afternoon, going back and forth over my options a million and a half times.
Should I call my parents? Tell them what happened? Ask for help?
I quickly tossed that idea to the curb. Blair and Vincent are a world away, dealing with their so-called packaging crisis. There’s nothing they can possibly do to make things better.
Should I call the police? File a report? Give a written statement about the men who attacked me?