Crash (Present Day)
"Crash?"
The wrong voice jerks me back to the present, to my living room. I search for blonde hair and soft eyes but instead find red hair and a brittle smile.
Amber's lip is bleeding.
Brow furrowed, she snaps, "What is going on with you?"
I'm not dead anymore, that's what.
I'm not a kid anymore, either. I can't be after what she's done to me.
Holding my phone like it's a lifeline, I stalk across the space between us to crowd her. She doesn't give. When I'm towering over Amber, I drop my chin so we're almost nose-to-nose.
She smiles.
I'm done. "I've hated you ever since that day."
Amber jerks back a hair, then she catches herself and rolls her eyes. But I know her too well now. She's lying about not caring that I hate her.
"Oh, come on. You're a nineteen-year-old boy getting sexual education from a woman. Most guys would kill to be in your position."
