“Okay, but seriously.” Em’s eyes are soft. “You’ve been in love with Zander since you were ten or something. You’ve never kissed another guy. You’ve never been wooed.”

“Wooed? Seriously?”

“Don’t you want to know what it’s like?”

“What?” I can feel the warmness rising up in my chest, the feeling when I know I’m in trouble, when I’ve done something wrong, been caught. I feel the panic rising up, the anxiety and anger. The sadness. I breathe slow through my nose, so slow Emma won’t even notice it. But I do. I feel the air filling my lungs, feel the blood cooling down, my nerves starting to settle. 1 … 2 … 3 … I can’t remember the last time I had to calm my nerves like this, had to do my breathing exercises from therapy. But I feel so unwanted right now.

“Don’t you want to know what it feels like to be chased?”

She’s right. I was most definitely the chaser with Zander. Even though he’s the one who made the move that turned us into a couple, I was the one sitting on the sidelines, waiting for it. Deep down, I know he knew how I felt about him. For years. So yes, it’s a little sad that I just waited around all of those years, until he was ready. But it never mattered because I ended up with what I always wanted. “Maybe I don’t want to be chased,” I say.

“And maybe you do.”

Yeah, maybe I do.

The building that houses Lake Lights is short, fat, and gray, like the lady who is sitting at the reception desk when I walk in a few days later.

“Hi,” I say. “You must be Brenda. I’m Olivia, we spoke on the phone a few weeks ago.”

“Oh.” She looks at me like I’ve caught her off guard, and she isn’t making me any less nervous. “Wait here and I’ll get Mr. Harris for you.” I expect her to get up, but she picks up the phone and mumbles a few words as I sit down in one of the chairs next to the desk.

“Great. Thanks.” I hope she can’t hear my toes tapping away in my shoe like they might bust right through the bottom and hammer a tiny toe-shaped hole right through the floor. Property damage on the first day of work. When I was here two months ago for my interview, the office felt alive. People were scurrying about and phones were ringing. Now it’s dead quiet, and it’s almost eerie how still everything is. I look to the receptionist, whose eyes dart away as soon as they meet mine.

Oh crap.