“I’ve heard some things that, quite frankly, disturb me. A guy like that might know everything about you, what you look like, where you hang out. You may not have invited him—”

“Just stop. Okay. I told you—I don’t hang out in chat rooms. It’s not even what I’m into. Where’d you even get an idea like that? Oprah ? Dateline?”

“The police.” Mom paused to make sure I was listening. “That guy could’ve been … You have no idea the danger you put yourself in. I can’t believe you would do that. What were you thinking, Serena?” She looked at me like I was the stupidest person on the planet.

I still held on to hope, though, because I did understand a few things. Like with Cole and her father, sometimes people who love each other don’t always show it. Sometimes love sits inside of our hearts like a bear in hibernation. After her reaction to my “attack,” I also knew spring would have to be hard coming, and I didn’t have a Porsche that could bring it any faster.

“Yes. Okay. I did ask him to meet me. Happy?”

Through tight lips, she asked, “Why, Serena?”

“He was a friend of Kori’s.”

“Kori’s, huh?” She heaved a sigh of pure exasperation. “Now do you understand why I didn’t want you to be friends with her?”

After hearing her callous words, I almost didn’t care if it was winter forever.

fourteen

This is a mistake, my inner voice warned, but did I listen? Of course not.

I shifted my weight and rang the bell of a royals-worthy mansion. In this country a structure that size is usually reserved for country clubs or the Osbournes. But in Kismet, it belongs to the Krivvys.

The door opened and a formally appointed—seriously, black dress and white apron—maid queried me. “I’m here to see Josh,” I said.

“Josh?” The maid repeated.

I nodded.

“Who shall I say is calling on him?”

Calling on Poor Josh? Gah. Why did she have to put it like that?

“Tell him Serena … is calling on him.” God … I’m such a crush enabler.

Her confused smile turned beaming. “Serena! Certainly. Please, come in. I’ll just announce your arrival.”

I followed her inside the mansion, my boot heels squeaking against the marble floor. While the maid lifted a phone from the foyer wall and spoke quietly into it, I started to worry again about the sanity of my plan. But after Mom’s little outburst, I was more determined than ever to find Shay and meet with him. All I needed was a computer and someone who wasn’t going to rat me out.

The maid turned back to me with another bright smile. “Right this way.”

The house smelled of flowers, and not flower-scented Lysol either.