Dead Pretty - Samantha Towle Page 0,14

to do. Think. Or feel.

I am in total control.

Deep breath in through the nose. Out slowly through the mouth.

And repeat.

I’m safe.

No one is going to hurt me.

I’m safe.

What happened is in the past. It’s over.

Tobias is in prison.

End of story.

I slam my laptop shut.

The murders of those two women have nothing to do with what happened to me, and they have no connection to Tobias Ripley whatsoever.

They are terrible and tragic. And I hope and pray that their killers are brought to justice and punished.

But those murders—or any, for that matter—are not something I need to think about. Or look into in any way, shape, or form.

Pushing my laptop aside onto the sofa, I get up and head to the kitchen to get a drink.

I reach into the fridge and grab a Diet Coke, slamming the door shut. I get some chips from the cupboard, flop back down on the sofa, pick up the remote, and turn on Netflix. It comes up with Stranger Things as last watched, and my mind instantly goes to Jack.

Then, I remember what happened the previous time I saw him, and I shut that thought down.

Nope. Not going there.

I’m not thinking about Jack or anyone else tonight.

And sorry, Stranger Things, but I can’t watch you right now.

I search for a comedy, needing to fill my mind with humor so I don’t think about anything related to my past.

I will sit here and pretend that I am a normal twenty-four-year-old who watches movies at home with chips for company and is … well, completely normal.

I haven’t seen Jack at the library for the past several days. Four, to be exact. He was coming in every day, regular as clockwork, and now, nothing.

I haven’t bumped into him anywhere or seen him around our apartment building. Not that I used to see him there, but …

It’s like he’s avoiding me.

And it bothers me for several reasons.

Firstly, I’ve noticed his absence from my life. The little that he’s actually been in it.

I shouldn’t be noticing him—or anyone. But I have, and that fact irritates the hell out of me.

Secondly, I think the reason Jack is avoiding me is because he asked me out and I said no. And also because I told him that we couldn’t be friends. Because I’m nice like that.

God, I’m such a bitch.

He’s literally stopped coming to the library to do whatever the hell it was that he did on his laptop all day and disappeared out of my life as quickly as he appeared in it—right after that awkward-as-hell moment in the supermarket.

When I repeat the whole conversation back in my head, it sounds awful.

And it wasn’t the first time that I was a bitch to him.

Sure, I can’t be friends with the guy. I can’t be friends with anyone. But there are better ways to handle things than the way I did.

I could have said, Sure, friends.

It wouldn’t have meant I had to actually do anything with him. It wouldn’t have meant we had to be besties and sit around and braid each other’s hair.

When he said friends, he probably meant in the acquaintance, friendly way.

I should have just said yes.

Then, I wouldn’t feel like such a dick, and I wouldn’t be obsessing about it right now.

I know I should just sort this out.

But I can’t go actively seek him out because that would be weird and probably give him the wrong message.

If I could accidentally run into him again, maybe I could say something then.

But that’s not looking likely at the moment. Not now that he’s avoiding me and now that whatever had us running into each other all the time has decided to stop.

I either shut the fuck up about it and move on. Or go knock on his door after work tonight and apologize for my terrible behavior.

I’ve got the rest of the afternoon to figure out what I want to do.

But right now, I’m going on my lunch break.

Instead of eating in the break room, I decide to go wild and go out to grab some food.

I’m heading out to the coffee shop I like to go to. They have the most amazing cinnamon-and-raisin bagels, and I have been craving one since I woke up this morning.

I’m still deciding whether to get takeout or stay in when I walk inside and see Jack sitting at one of the tables in the corner. His laptop opened in front of him.

And that for sure answers my question as to whether he’s