Crush Crush

Chapter Six

I rushed downstairs the next morning, throwing on a jacket as I tried to fluff my perfectly-curled hair that took longer than normal to do. I grabbed a yogurt and a plastic spoon, thankful I went to the grocery store the day before.

As I swung open the front door, I was forced to pause before stepping out of the house.

A small basket was sitting on my front porch. A smile slowly started to build, but quickly died when I realized what the basket's contents were.

A large severed doll head, a brown paper bag that reeked of dog shit, a black rose that was falling apart, and my school photo, blown-up to fill an entire sheet of paper. Written in bold, red permanent marker over my face was the angry word "BITCH." I gasped, deeply disturbed by the contents of the basket. I grabbed the handle and quickly dumped the atrocious thing in the garbage can on the side of the house. I stared at the horrifying present for a full minute before slamming the trash can closed. I drove to school in silence, trying to think of who would attack me like that. 

I've never been bullied . . . I've never bullied anyone. 

I parked in a spot near Chloe's car and mentally shook myself. 

Someone was pulling a cruel prank. That's all.

I plastered a smile on my face as Chloe came over to my car. She didn't need to know—she would murder everyone in the school to find out who it was.

. . .

Ryder called me later that day to tell me that he wouldn't be able to make dinner. He sounded distracted as he spoke to me. I answered his invasive questions with monosyllables.

After I hung up with him, I made sure the entire house was locked before filling my parents' large bathtub with hot water and lots of bubbles. I sunk into the cocoon of warmth, content to stay there for the rest of the night. I must've dozed off because I woke to the front door opening. I quickly jumped out of the bathtub, wrapping a towel around my body.

I tiptoed out of my parents' room and listened as footsteps echoed along the tile floor as the visitor first entered the kitchen and living room before returning to the foot of the stairs. I grabbed the nearest object I could use to defend myself—an empty crystal vase.

I raised the weapon over my head, fully prepared to drop it on the unwelcome visitor's head. His green eyes caught the light coming from the bedroom behind me and I dropped my arm, sighing in relief. I felt silly—of course it was Ryder. He was the only one who had a key.

But, I'd seen plenty of movies where people pick a lock to enter a house.

"Isabel? What are you doing?"

I put the vase back in its place and gave him a exasperated look. "I thought you were Freddy Krueger or something."

I turned to go to my room, but his hand caught my shoulder, forcing me to face him again. "Are you all right, Isabel?"

"Yeah, of course I am." I answered too quickly—I knew it sounded off, and so did he. His eyes narrowed, fingers digging into my skin worriedly.

"Tell me."

"Nothing. I'm just tired. I'm going to bed."

He loosened his grasp after a minute of eyeing me suspiciously. "All right. I just wanted to make sure you were good for the night."

I nodded. "I managed not to burn down the house when I made Hot Pockets."

He didn't smile—he never smiled.