Her fingers tightened slightly around the edge of the book in front of her. The cover was blue, gold letters spelling out some title she hadn't bothered to read. Now it served as a barrier, a thin shield between herself and the boy who had turned her life upside down.
Damon.
Of course.
"What do you want?" she asked quietly. Her voice came out steadier than she felt, which was something at least.
He sat down across from her. The gesture was lazy, unhurried—the movements of a predator who knew his prey had nowhere left to run. He crossed one leg over the other, resting his hands on his knee, and looked at her like she was a particularly interesting specimen he was examining.
"We're going to a party tonight."
She let out a small breath of disbelief. The sound was half laugh, half sob, caught somewhere between amusement and despair. "No."
"Yes."
