He doesn’t notice me right away, but I can’t move, my muscles are locked. All I do is stare. The blood drains from my face as the space between me and the basket shrinks.Why can’t I move?
When he finally looks my way, his mouth falls open.
There’s not enough air. I can’t breathe.
I break eye contact first, rushing to put the crackers back on the shelf. Blood pounds in my ears and my hands tremble as I stuff one box in only to knock over three more.
“Shit, no! Shit! Shit!” I mutter, barely able to see through the tears welling in my eyes.
“Hannah.” The sound of my name out of his mouth makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up. “Hannah, please, can I just?—”
I don’t hear the rest. His cart moves as his footsteps close in.He’s too close.
The boxes in my arms fall to the ground in a heap, and I run.
41
you are not a mess
Rowan
Dubs
Hey, man. All’s well here. Sorry I missed your texts yesterday.
Me
Bri and Mom didn’t reply either.
Dubs
Weird.
Me
????
I think YOUR pants are on fire.
I lookup from my phone at the sound of heels clacking on tile, loud and fast. Hannah rushes into my line of sight a few aisles ahead. My stomach sinks.
She rounds the corner and runs the opposite direction. Away from…something.
Half a heartbeat—that’s all it takes before I abandon the cart and move after her. Then someone else appears. A man running out ofthe same aisle.
Daniel, the asshole who assaulted her in that dark parking lot, comes into view. And he’s shouting her name. Chasing after her.
I see red.
My voice is an earthquake, loud like thunder. “The fuck did I tell you?!”
It gets his attention in an instant and he freezes in his tracks. He spins around, immediately regretting every choice he’s made that brought him to this spot where my fist flies clean across his face. The bones of his nose crack under the force of my punch, and he crumples to the ground like the dead weight he is.
One quick glance confirms Hannah’s sealed herself safely inside the bathroom. I haul Daniel up by the collar, blood gushes down his face.
“I just wanted to make sure she was okay, I swear!” I ignore his pleas as I drag him through the store and out into the parking lot.
“Which one’s yours?” I demand. He’s disoriented, trying to stop the bleeding. “Car! Which one’s yours?”