Emma

But there was nothing wrong with me.

Braden made a habit of visiting me after midnight. He said he didn’t like being alone. Part of me liked his company, but the other part, the sinister part, of me was glad he was so vulnerable to influence. If I wanted something, he didn’t hesitate to get it for me. He was the perfect guy – too bad I wasn’t the perfect girl.

“Where are you from?”
Braden had been asking me this for weeks now. I never gave him a straight answer. In fact, I never gave him an answer. I avoided it as much as possible. The less he knew about me, the easier it would be to frame him.

“Don’t worry about it. It’s not about where I’m from anyway. It’s about where I’m going.”

“True, but you had to come from somewhere.”


I looked at him and smirked. “Everyone comes from somewhere, but you never look for them there. You always look at where they’re going. No one ever says, ‘Jimmy’s from Delaware.’ They always say, ‘Jimmy’s going to Denver.’”

He nodded, looking at the bottle sitting next to him on the floor. He took a swig from it, and smiled. “I like you, Emma.”

I nodded, taking the bottle from him and taking a sip of the bitter liquid inside. “Now why would you ever do a thing like that?”