Page 35 of Wherever You Are

Hatred flames their eyes.

“That’s definitely his cousin,” the new guy says, looking from me to his cellphone screen. He must have found a picture ofLoren Hale’s cousin!from the internet.

I rush to leave, but the angular-faced guy physically blocks my path. I take a step backwards. “I’m just trying to leave,” I say, much softer than I intend. “I don’t know you.”

“But we know Loren,” the angular-faced guy says. “He slashed the tires of our car in college.”

“Oh.”Oh my God.“I’m sorry about that—”

He plucks my glasses right off my face.

I gasp and reach out for them, but I can’t see. I catch air. My world is a blurry mess, especially with the dark lighting and the glow-in-the-dark shapes.

I hear thecrunchbeneath his shoe.

My heart nosedives. He…he just broke my glasses.

“You tell Loren that the public may love the person he’s selling them, but everyone whotrulyknows Loren Hale still hates the fuck out of him.”

I back up into the wall and reach out for the bathroom knob. I knock off a poster or something, and I go completely still.

They no longer speak. I listen for their footsteps, but it’s hard to hear over the pinging of arcade machines. I think they left.I hope they left.

“Garrison,” I say in a panicked breath. I meant to yell his name. So I try again. “Garrison.” Slightly louder. Not loud enough. I crouch into a squat, feeling the carpet for my glasses. “Garrison!”

I touch the bent frame, broken in half, and the lenses are shattered. I prick my finger on the sharp glass and retract my hand.

“Willow!” Garrison must sprint because he’s next to me in a hurried second. “What happened? What the hell?”

I can’t see him. I can’t seeanythingin here.

I start to ask, “Can I—”

He knows what I want. Garrison immediately catches my trembling hand and helps me to my feet. I edge closer to his frame, and his other palm rests on my waist. My heart beats so fast.

If I start picturing their faces, emotion threatens to well and glass my eyes. It’s not even that I met real hatred for the first time. It’s that they feel this boiling disgust towards someone I love.

Garrison keeps me close. “Do you have an extra pair of glasses in your backpack?”

“No, just in my room.” My throat swells closed, but before he asks again, I start briefly explaining the encounter. He scans the arcade for signs of “preppy” guys, but he says it looks like they’re gone.

Of course, I can’t read his expression, but his body radiates with heat, angry and upset. Instead of hunting them down, thankfully he stays beside me.

My hand in his hand, he guides me out of the arcade. My backpack slung over his shoulder. (I ask to make sure he hasn’t left it.) But I’m too nervous to ask if the cameraman is still looming.

“Escalator,” Garrison says, pulling me back as I try to walk forward. His arm is wrapped securely around my waist.

Oh my God.Through everything that’s happened, I still heat from the new touch. I can’t help it. I’m stiffer than him. I’m unbending and hardly breathing properly.

Focus.I start to whisper, “I can’t tell Loren what happ—”

“I hateThe Omentoo,” Garrison cuts in, raising his voice. “There are so many better horror movies than that one.”

I understand the hint. The older man with the camera phone—he must be right behind us. Riding down the escalator. Video-recording our conversation. Our every move.

I shudder. And this is just a taste of what Lily and her sisters deal with every day.

We both stay quiet until we reach the parking lot. Once inside his Mustang, Garrison locks the car doors. Lily dropped me off at the mall on her way to Superheroes & Scones, so my car is still at my brother’s house.