Page 22 of Love JD

and wait by the trees. Don’t go anywhere until I join you.

Isla:

But what if the Joker jumps out and

kidnaps me while you’re distracting Mr. Obvious?

Tabitha shot me a middle finger, and I admired her oval, sparkly nails. How did she do ninja stuff with nails like that?

I stood up, slinging my backpack over my shoulder, and casually strolled away. I felt the reporter’s eyes follow me, and I was pretty sure he took out his phone to snap a picture, but it hardly mattered. It wasn’t like I was sexting Zev in the library or anything interesting like that.

Regrettably.

Was I attracted to my brother’s girlfriend’s brother? Completely. Should I have been? Hell no. But… there I was, daydreaming about him in class and wondering what it would be like to rub my fingers over his faded, manicured beard.

It was probably several years’ worth of pent-up sexual frustration at work, but my initial curiosity about Zev had slowly mutated into a full-blown crush in the week or so we had been apart. Probably because I knew it was unlikely that I’d ever see him again, so it felt okay to drool over his body and let myself fantasize about all the things I couldn’t have.

Tabitha engaged the suspicious guy in a conversation, wanting to know if he was a professor, and—in a flirty voice—oh my God, did he know Professor Proust?

I booked it out of the library, limping on my boot through shelves and pushing my way through a side door to the cool May night. I breathed in deeply, grateful that I didn’t have a migraine or dizziness today. Begrudgingly, I had to admit that having a nurse to pop in and check on me had been nice. She had called in adjustments for my meds and made sure I drank electrolytes, which had helped tremendously. A little tweak she made to my blood pressure medication alone had been like a miracle. I’d only fainted once, and it had had more to do with standing up too fast than anything else. My ankle felt better, too, and the swelling had gone down with medication and consistent icing.

I reached the row of trees on a concrete island near lot six and leaned against the thin trunk, my eyes roving over the dark parking area. The yellow overhead lamps had blinked on, and scattered lights from the surrounding buildings warmed the night with fairy light twinkles. I sighed, fighting a wave of exhaustion. I wanted finals to be over, and I wanted to leave campus, but I couldn’t help but feel a little pang of regret for passing yet another semester with no new friends and little progress outside of my schoolwork. How was it possible to be so busy and so empty at the same time? I’d kept my temp job with the agency because it felt strange to not work, but realistically, I didn’t need the money.

Which was a really bizarre development for me. I’d always been cognizant of the fastest ways to make spare change when necessary. Sometimes, my dad would run out of funds in some third-world country, and we’d had to ride on a crowded bus with people we didn’t know, or had needed to stay in a hostel with strangers who leered and purposefully talked about us in languages we didn’t understand. Other times, I’d run errands for travel agencies to make extra money, and I’d spent hours online filling out surveys and writing essays for other high school students. I’d thought about money endlessly then, even if I didn’t need to think about it now. It had caused me intense anxiety more than once, and just the memory of that instability over and over caused my pulse to race.

I closed my eyes against those thoughts and tried to push them away. “Don’t freak yourself out,” I muttered to myself.

It was then I realized that Tabitha was taking a long time. Even if she’d had to shake a reporter, she should have made her way back to me by now. I texted her and waited a couple minutes, but nothing.

Fear pushed itself under my breastbone and squeezed my heart. I’m sure it’s fine. I reasoned. Nothing to worry about. But my fingers hovered over Tristan’s name in my phone. No, I couldn’t worry him anymore than I already had. He had already mentioned cutting his trip short, and I would die of embarrassment if my half-brother not only felt so responsible for me that he had to put his business in jeopardy, but also if he was the only one I could think to call in the first place. I didn’t need him upending his existence just because he had a pathetic younger sister.

A wind that carried the warmth of the sun-soaked asphalt swept over me, and I glanced around the deserted parking lot. A group of boys walked to a beat-up brown sedan, joking loudly and hooting about something. I watched them warily, glancing back down at my phone. I could text Robert, but…

But you know how he’ll react. And you hate it. The fussing. The put-down remarks about putting myself in bad situations when I “know better” about my limitations. The well-meaning degradation of someone who cares for you but holds no respect for your ability to succeed.

I scrolled through my contacts and my eyes landed on Zev’s name. My finger hovered over his name. Wait, why the hell would I do that? He was five hundred miles away and we barely knew each other. Shaking my head, I closed the screen and shoved my phone in my pocket. The parking lot had gone disturbingly quiet. No cars rolled by. No students walked past. The trees above me rustled, scraping against my nerves like teeth on an emery board.

Suddenly, a hand snaked around my mouth and pulled me hard against the tree. A shrill, piercing scream filled my ears and shocked my heart like I’d been electrocuted. The hand released me, but the damage had already been done to my nervous system. My body shut down, and I saw the world tilt as I fell.

I knew nothing after that.

Chapter seven

Zev

I settled back onto 6,000 sharp points of contact and sighed in relief. Each stinging tooth on the acupressure mat needled into my skin and shot straight through my sore muscles. It always began as a sharp prickle before melting into a pleasant warmth that forced my body to relax into the mat. Like my brain couldn’t handle rational thoughts and the sensation of the mat at the same time, my consciousness faded into a shadowy soup.

Dimly, I heard my phone buzz on my bedside table, but I ignored it. Heavy relaxation reached for me again.

My phone rang, vibrating loudly against the reclaimed wood side table.

I sighed, and as my awareness rose back to the top, the sharp prickles felt uncomfortable. The mat didn’t work if I had to think about it.

The phone rang again, and I knew then it was probably urgent. Groaning, I reached over carefully and brought the phone to my ear. “Yeah?” I growled.

“Good news and bad news,” Tabitha said without preamble.

“It’s not really like you to play games,” I muttered, sitting up slowly and letting the spikes peel away from my back. “Is Isla okay?”

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