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Chapter 6

I hurry to the buffet and hang around until after noon on the off-chance he’ll be there. He has to eat, right? But he doesn’t show, damn it. Did I scare him off or is he just busy? Did he even really speak to me at all? Maybe he was simply being nice—he isn’t interested in me, and I’ll never see him again.

By the third day, I don’t bother getting out of bed. What’s the use? If I’m not going to see him, I don’t want to wake up. At least when I close my eyes, I can relive the moments he touched me, recall the words he spoke. From the doorway, my mom asks, “Are you sure you’re all right, honey? Maybe you’re coming down with something.”

From beneath the bed sheets, I mumble, “I’m fine.” Silently I add, Go away and let me wallow here in my misery.