Page 37 of Hide From Me

Make me.

My phone chimes again, but I place it face down on the arm of the couch, praying the scratchy fabric doesn’t scuff the screen. Since everyone’s been so far up my ass about this whole “disappearance date” thing, I decided to crash at Laura’s for a few days. Jack, naturally, took that as an open invitation to tag along.

They think I’ll break down. They think I’ll snap, or spiral, or end up sobbing in a bathtub somewhere. But I won’t. Lance doesn't have that power over me anymore. I made damnsure of that.

“That’s him, isn’t it?” Laura says casually, like she didn’t just drop a grenade into the quiet living room. Her voice nearly gets drowned out by Jack’s scream as a jump scare rattles the horror movie playing on the screen.

“Who?” I ask, pretending not to understand.

“Mystery man. He’s the one blowing up your phone, right?”

I roll my eyes and pull the blanket tighter around me, tucking my feet against the couch cushions just to piss her off. Her place is a far cry from mine—sleek, monochrome, painfully tidy. Like she lives in a display unit instead of an actual home, still, this couch has seen more of me than she probably likes to admit.

“Nope. No. And fuck no,” Jack blurts, springing up like he’s been electrocuted. “I’m going to bed. You two can flirt with the devil without me.”

“It’s just a movie!” I argue, but he’s already backing toward the stairs, cradling his knee from where it smacked the coffee table.

“It’sSatanon a screen. The dude had horns. That’s my limit,” Jack huffs, pausing at the foot of the pitch-black stairwell. He stares up into the void, then turns back to us with pleading eyes.

“We’re not twelve anymore,” Laura sighs, not even looking at him. “There’s no such thing as monsters, Jack. And Ihighlydoubt Satan is climbing out of the TV to drag your pretty little soul to hell.”

I snort, but the words hit differently. There are monsters. Real ones. The kind that crawl out from under your bed when the world’s asleep. Some have claws and teeth, but others are beautiful and dangerous—mine lured me into a closet and ripped out my soul with the kiss that started it all.

“I’m too hot for hell,” Jack mutters, flipping his hair back like he’s in a shampoo commercial.

I kick the edge of the table, and he jumps so hard I swear he almost hits the ceiling.

“Not funny!” he yelps. “I don’t know why I hang out with you psychos.”

“You love us!” I call after him, but he flicks the light switch off with the dramatics of someone being exorcised and sprints up the stairs like something’s chasing him.

The house falls quiet.

I exhale slowly, sinking deeper into the cushion. Just when the silence starts to settle, Laura speaks again—softly this time.

“It’s not Lance, is it? If it is, you can tell me. We can call the cops. Whatever you need.”

The question punches the air out of me.

“I’m not asking about whoever’s blowing upyourphone tonight,” I say flatly, still not looking at her. “So maybe let mine go, too.”

Is that a challenge? You know I love games, sunshine.

My heart jumps as I read the text, my bottom lip caught between my teeth—but the fluttering heat in my stomach dies as a loud thud comes from upstairs.

“I’m okay!” Jack yells.

“So itisMoe,” Laura says, like this is a goddamn police interrogation.

Can’t play when you’re halfway across the world.

I sigh and shoot back the text.

“Why are you so worried about it?” I mutter aloud.

She’s killing my mood and any attempt I make at forgetting the things that haunt me.

“Look, he seems sweet,” Laura says carefully. “But he’s got secrets.”

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