I didn’t want to come over, especially after my conversation with Mason, but watching her up close, observing her with this new perspective, could help me reconcile my feelings with reality.

Zoe looks over her shoulder, amused. “Why are you staring at me?”

I shake my head to clear it. “Sorry, spacing out.”

She nods her chin in the direction of my history textbook. “How’s it going?”

With a sigh, I sit up, flipping the cover closed and crossing my legs. “This is exceptionally boring,” I say. It doesn’t help that being in the same room with her makes it impossible to think about anything other than our supposed fight that she refuses to tell me about.

And Jacob.

“I’m nearly done, anyway,” she remarks, closing her own books and tucking them into her backpack neatly. When she sweeps her long hair behind her shoulders, I notice the locket that rests against her white sweater, catching light from the flickering fire.

“That’s pretty,” I say, and she looks confused before her fingers encircle the necklace. “Where did you get it?”

“It was a gift.”

I tilt my head curiously. “From who?”

Hesitation darts across her delicate features, her cheeks turning pink in an uncharacteristic blush. “Well,” she pauses. “From Damien.”

Not the answer I was expecting. “Oh.”

“It’s nothing like that,” she explains quickly. “I tutored him in math last year. It was just a way to say thank you.”

“That was nice of him.”

“Yeah.” Reaching into her bag, she grabs a bottle of hand sanitizer, squeezing some onto her palms and rubbing them together. “Do you want to watch a movie?”

“Sure.”

Zoe stands from her chair, nodding. “I’ll just go ask my mom if it’s okay.”

“We need your mom’s permission to watch a movie?”

Her cheeks flush again. “I—I meant I’ll go see if the living room is free,” she stammers.

She exits the room in a rush, and a wave of her perfume washes over me. The door clicks shut behind her, and the floorboards creak as her footsteps retreat down the hall.

It doesn’t take long before the sound of raised voices drifts upstairs. They obviously belong to Zoe and her mother. I didn’t know watching a movie would cause so much controversy, but from what I’ve seen of Mrs. Harris so far, I’m not a huge fan of the woman. If this is what Zoe’s home life is like on the daily, I feel grateful I woke up to Sofia as my mother instead.

Regardless of my tumultuous relationship with the girl, it feels wrong to intrude on her argument with her mother. I stand and reach for her phone, turning up the volume just enough to drown out the voices. When I go to set it down again, I hear a buzzing noise, causing me to freeze.