After we split from Amelia and Cleo, Logan and I drifted in separate directions. I was drawn into this dimly lit room, which feels like a pocket where unwanted things collect. The shelves are cluttered with antique and occult things as expected, but somehow everything still seems out of place.

I find myself focusing on one shelf that holds a whole horde of items: a crescent moon tea set, a cloth sack full of jade marbles, a speckled white feather. I run my finger along the objects, leaving a faint trail in their dust. I feel unsettled. It’s like, in this room, I can somehow sense the energy each object has trapped inside.

Amelia always insists it’s just my imagination, but I’ve always felt objects are like people. They can carry their history inside, bottled and brewing just underneath the surface. Standing here, I feel like the history of all these objects is somehow fraught. Like they’ve all been trapped here too long, or that they’re…

Haunted?

I take a step back, and that’s when I hear it: a creaking sound from across the room. I snap my head in that direction, but there’s nothing there.

I tell myself to calm down, even though my pulse flutters in my neck. I don’t know if it’s just being around these storied items, but I can’t fight the feeling that someone is watching me.

“Come here.”

I feel the whisper against my cheek as one long arm wraps around my chest from behind. A scream starts to form in my throat, but then another hand clamps down over my mouth. Panic bursts open inside my veins, sending charges of adrenaline throughout my body.

“You’re way too cute to be wandering this store all alone.”

Next, something wet connects with the skin at the base of my neck. Something that feels like lips.

“Logan, I’m going to kill you,” I sputter, spinning around to find the grinning face of my boyfriend.

“But if you kill me, then who are you going to make out with in this creepy place?” Logan says, pulling me against him. I’m pretty tall, but Logan is taller. And more muscular. And, honestly, way hotter than me. I still can’t understand how I was lucky enough to find him, or lucky enough to have him fall for me.

This thought dissolves, however, once Logan kisses me. There are very few things that can pause the eternal forge of thoughts burning in my brain, but feeling Logan’s hands travel up my back is one of them. Even after two years, he leaves me breathless.

I still can’t believe that in two weeks moments like these are going to be in short supply. The idea of Logan and me leaving to go to college on opposite coasts still causes a sting so deep, I try to avoid thinking about it altogether.

“Chase!”