Page 6 of Red Flag, Green Light

Scrolling up Brian’s feed on my computer, I sleuth.

Brian’s friend list appears nearly as modest as mine, so I doubt he’s accepting any request he gets, which would imply that he does actually remember Amelia was a classmate of his. One he liked, even, considering there seems to only be a few other people who went to the same school as them on here.

Humming, I say, “How about this? You message him, and if he doesn’t remember you, I’ll stock up on black wax.”

Amelia flops toward me, ruining her elegant bun completely. “You won’t have to worry about stocking up on wax. I have plenty of wax. In all sorts of colors. And…” She blinks. “You distracted me.”

It is not hard to do. I grin. “Mellie, Mellie, why do you have black wax on hand? Whose funerals are you planning? Should I be worried?”

Her lip juts, and she reaches for her phone, lifting it above her face as she rolls onto her back. “It’s good to be prepared in case of an emergency.”

“An emergency like your untimely demise due to uncalled-for embarrassment?”

“Exactly.”

I stare at her all sprawled out on her bed, looking angelic and picturesque even with strands coming out of her bun, then I say, “Message him.”

“No.”

“I will send you a cookie.”

Her mouth opens; thoughts trickle behind her eyes; she adamantly shakes her head. “No. He left this place behind for areason. He wanted a big city. He’s not gonna wanna talk to a country girl from his past. Besides, Brian is a genius. He knows half our school was in love with him. If a random girl wants to catch up all of a sudden, he’ll probably block me. And then what will I do?”

“Spend a lot less time staring at his pictures and bemoaning lost love?”

Amelia frowns.

I plow on, far from delicate, “How do you know that this guy didn’t intentionally orchestrate the affections of half the school in an effort to obtain love letters?”

“I don’t.”

I arch a brow.

She sighs, dreamy. “You know what? I bet he did. What a commitment to his passion. He’s so cool and smart.”

I’m beginning to think if I ever find my villain masquerading as a mortal man, Amelia will be more than supportive. We should probably both be in some kind of therapy.

Pity I don’t have time for that.

Glancing at the clock in the corner of my monitor, I droop. “Well, I have to get to work now, Mellie. These commas won’t unsplice themselves.”

She pops upright. “But you haven’t even seen all thirteen of Brian’s new photos yet. How will you have the energy to work without them?”

“Wow. Um.” I close out of Brian’s profile and open my work email. “Aren’t you worried I’ll fall in love with him, too, but be brave enough to message?”

“No, I’m not worried. You don’t leave your house. And he’s in Indiana. Which, last I checked, is far away from inside yourhouse.”

Ah. Well. I mean. “We could have a feverish dalliance online.”

“He’s not your type.”

Truer words are rarely spoken. And, yet, Amelia’s confidence in this one thing is starting to offend me. I can leave my house, and cross state lines, anddothings. Of course I can. I did it once already when I moved here.

Never mind that the very idea of doing it again makes me ill.

I was born to be stationary and unbothered, set apart from all people.

That said, becoming friends with Amelia was an accident.

---