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Chapter 6: I Have the Worst Stalker

My car is parked at my parents' house, right next door, but if I go into the house to grab my purse and keys, I know my mom will only come in after me and try to get me to tell her everything. Instead, I just keep speed-walking - past my parents' house, past the one beyond that, all the way to the end of the street. Only then am I out of sight of the people in the Grants' yard, and only then do I break into a run.

I don't know exactly where I'm going - I just let my feet lead the way. Haverton is small enough that I could make it back to the house I rent with Lucy without too much trouble, but that's the first place they'll look for me. I need to be alone right now.

Somehow, I end up down by the river. I jog down the overgrown dirt path, trying not to trip over tree roots or overgrown weeds. Note to self - ballet flats are definitely not the best getaway shoes. This time of year the woods here are green and lush and thick, drowning out the sounds of the streets behind me. I rarely see anyone else along this section of the river - most people stick to the landscaped River Park back toward the center of town or go to the better-maintained trails at the nearby state park if they want to do any hiking. This is the perfect place to come and think. Sometimes I'll even bring my guitar down here and sit on one of the large granite rocks along the riverbank and play.

Today, though, I'm not in the mood to think or to play. I just want to scream.

When I get to the edge of the water, I stop and catch my breath. Then I tilt my head back and scream as loud as I can. I yell and curse and shout all sorts of words I'm pretty sure my parents don't even realize I know.

I'm not sure how long I stand there yelling at the sky. Eventually, though, my throat starts to ache, so I shout one final "Fuck you!" at the clouds before falling quiet.

My chest heaves. My legs ache from the run here, and my stomach still feels a little off. But I'm by myself. Away from my mom and Eliza and Collette and the rest of the town. And I have no plans to go back there anytime soon.

For a little while, I just stand there and watch the water flow by. Trying not to think. Or freak out. Finally, I slip off my shoes and step into the water.

The river isn't wide here - maybe eighty feet - and it's probably only three feet deep at its deepest point. Downstream there are a few rapids, but here the Reedy River is lazy and slow, perfect for wading. The water is icy cold, and I welcome the shock that shivers up my legs. My toes sink into soft sand as I take another step.

Definitely should have skipped the barbecue, you idiot. What were you thinking, going there and pretending like nothing was wrong? What did you think would happen when you weren't wearing that stupid fucking ring?

"Ughhh!" I yell, kicking my leg out and sending a spray of river water up in front of me. "You idiot."

I hear the soft scuff of a shoe against the ground behind me a split second before I hear the voice. "Yes, he is."

I spin around. Alex is standing there, his face unreadable as he looks at me.

"Are you stalking me now?" I demand, propping my hands on my hips. "Seriously, wasn't me storming out of your mom's party proof that I wanted to be alone?"

"Maybe," he says with a small shrug. "But when have I ever listened to you?"

"Very funny," I say, turning back to face the river. "You can leave now, you goober. You're ruining my dramatic exit." I bend slightly and let my fingers trail in the water. "How did you know where to find me, anyway?" I'm pretty sure I would have noticed if he'd been following me on the way here - I can't imagine he ran after me in that suit, anyway - and I've been here long enough at this point that he must have found his way on his own.

Alex doesn't answer, and when I glance back over my shoulder at him, he's looking at me like I'm a moron - and maybe I am. But I guess I didn't expect him to remember how often we hung out here in high school. Or to realize that I might still visit this particular trail now.

"I meant what I said," he says finally. "Whatever happened between you and Wes, he's the idiot."

I let out a bitter laugh and kick my foot again, just wanting to watch the spray fly.

"What did happen, Mae?"

"No," I say. "We're not talking about this. I'm not in the mood for a therapy session. I'm more in the mood to get drunk off my ass and make terrible decisions. Unfortunately, I managed to spill all of the punch on the way out of your mom's party. I don't suppose you brought any with you?"

He doesn't say anything for a long moment. Finally, curious, I glance back at him again. He's fishing for something inside of his fancy suit jacket. A moment later, he pulls out a flask.

"Oh, jackpot," I say. Maybe Alex is the guy I remember after all. I extend my hand, then pause. "Wait. What's in that thing? Please don't tell me it's that nasty whiskey you used to drink."

"Close, but I've upgraded since then. This is a little smoother."

I hesitate. I'm not really in the mood to have the lining of my esophagus burned off - seriously, Alex used to drink some terrible shit - but on the other hand, beggars can't be choosers. I'd probably drink prison wine out of a sock if someone offered it to me right now.

"All right," I say. "Toss it to me."

He gives a single shake of his head. "I'll give it to you, but only if you do something for me."

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