Page 55 of Look What You Made Me Do

“It’s a really fussy plant when it’s kept indoors, but I love the smell. I have several of them.”

I glance around the sunroom, and now I see them. There are three or four pots, all lined up under the windows, except…there’s one pot missing. I can see the outline of where it used to be on the tile floor.

“You’re missing a pot,” I say, pointing to the brown ring.

She shrugs and laughs, which is a strange response. “That one died,” she says. “As I said, they’re fussy plants.”

M’kay.

She’s droning on about how it took her a few months to find the right kind of potting soil, but I’m not really listening. I’m too busy staring at the white, waxy gardenia flowers like they’re something out of the Alien franchise.

If Gabriel is my stalker—and I realize that’s a bigif—he could have gotten the flowers from here. It’s the exact same type of flower that was placed on my bed and desk...

The only problem with that theory is that gardenia is a pretty common flower. And southern California has a pretty mild climate, so this whole area is practically exploding with gardenia.

“Everything okay?” Ms. Martell’s voice jolts me out of my daze.

Blinking, I glance up at her. “No, yeah. Sorry. I haven’t been sleeping well lately, so I’m just…” I make a face and motion to my head like it’s all jumbled. “Anyway, um, I have class in a bit, so I should run,” I lie.

Queenie is dancing around Ms. Martell’s feet, so she picks the small dog up and tucks her under her arm. “I’m glad you stopped by,” she says, walking me back to the front door. “Take care of yourself.”

I nod and head back to my car awkwardly. When I get inside, I release the pent-up breath I’d been holding. What the hell was that? That whole encounter was so bizarre. But there wasonething she said that might actually be helpful…

Pendleton.

At least I have somewhere to start. Maybe.

All I really want is to confirm that I’m seeing things. That Gabriel is really gone, and whoever is popping up in my room is someone else entirely. It wouldn’t be hard to mimic Gabriel, right? I mean, in theory.

When I get home, I open my door, breath held, wondering what I’m going to find. There’s no flower on my bed, but there’s a brown paper bag on my kitchen counter with a note attached. I pull it off the bag and read it. The handwriting is so chaotic, I can barely make out the words. It must be from Lucas.

Eat something.

Opening the bag, I realize it’s a cheeseburger and fries from my favorite burger joint. And it’s still warm, which means he must have just dropped it off. How did he know I’d be home? I told him I had class all day. It’s near noon, though, and he probably guessed I’d come home for lunch.

My stomach growls when the smell of fresh fries wafts out of the bag. It’d be a shame to let this all go to waste, right?

Grabbing a canned soda from the fridge, I fall onto my bed and dig into my cheeseburger and fries with unrefined vigor while simultaneously looking up the name Pendleton on my phone.

It’s a common last name, apparently, so I add an age range to my search. Ms. Martelle said the guy was “young,” so I’m going to assume he’s between eighteen and twenty-five-ish. He couldbe slightly older, and still be considered young, but it’s a starting point.

As I’m searching, a text pops up on my screen from Lucas.

I knew you’d be hungry.

I freeze mid-bite and blink at the text. Is he watching me? Did he plant a camera in my apartment? Honestly, I wouldn’t put it past him to do that and I feel a little dumb for not considering that possibility before this.

Come to Rush House.

I put my cheeseburger down and glare down at my phone. The fucking nerve.

You need to stop ordering me around like I’m your pet.

I mean, fuck, who the hell does he think he is?

Wyn. Come now, or I’ll show up at your place, and drag you here myself. Your choice.

M’kay, first order of business—change my damnlocks. I was so dumb to give him a key. Second order of business, find the camera he obviously hid in my apartment.

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