“Cool, cool.” Furtively, I cast another glance back at Daphne’s car. It’s still there—she’s still watching. The fact gives me a little bit of comfort, but who knows when the next attack might happen? “Um, would you like to come inside? I’m kind of freezing my ass off.”

Gunnar hesitates, but then says, “Sure. I shouldn’t stay too long, but okay.”

My nerves fray even further as I unlock the front door, my thoughts smashing around like bumper cars. I have invited a cute boy inside! Whatever’s going on here, I am prolonging it! Already my mind is going blank, and I have no idea what else to say. WHATEVER YOU DO, DON’T SHOW HIM THE SCARY RAG DOLL!

“That’s my mom’s terrifying rag doll,” I say the literal second the door is closed behind us, and it’s like ripping off a Band-Aid. Naturally, the doll is propped up on the counter, where it watches us like a sentinel guarding the gates of hell. “Try not to look it in the eye.”

“Holy shit.” Gunnar’s brows climb most of the way to his hairline. “Is it a Horcrux? Because it really looks like there’s a bunch of souls trapped inside of it.”

“Don’t ask questions you don’t want answers to.” Shrugging out of my backpack, I wince, my elbow throbbing; when I get my coat off, there’s blood seeping through my sweater. “Shit.”

“Oh man, are you okay?” Gunnar steps into me, gently taking hold of my arm and rotating it. He smells like fresh, cold air, and just his touch makes different parts of me start to firm up. His hair is glossy, his lashes curl upward, and there’s spearmint on his breath.

“I’m okay,” I squeak. “I … fell earlier.” Repeating myself, I add, “It’s been a weird night.”

Holding my tricep in one hand and my wrist in the other, Gunnar bends my arm carefully. Looking me in the eye, he asks, “Does this hurt?”

“N-not really.” I can hardly breathe.

“Good.” He releases his grip and steps away again, but my heart is still fluttering. “Then it’s probably not broken. I fractured a bone in my arm falling out of a tree when I was little, and it sucked. Hurt like hell for days—I had to wear a sling and everything.”

“I’ve never broken a bone before.” I’m very smug about this. I take off my glasses so I can work the sweater over my head, and my T-shirt rides all the way up with it. As I tug it down, I glance at Gunnar, and I swear his eyes flick guiltily away from the bare skin of my exposed stomach. Heat rushes through me again, my face tingling. “I, um … Do you want anything? I can get you some water, or…?”