Twenty-Seven
I fill the pool in my bathing room with multi-colored bubbles. The orange ones smell like peach, the pink ones like raspberry, and the green ones like lime. The green bubbles are my least favorite, the ones I pop first while soaking in the water and mulling over Uri’s note.
I want to forget the hurt Nate has caused me. Of course I do. But if Uri isn’t sure of what he’s created, then it’s probably a bad idea to take the potion. I certainly don’t want to wind up with some nasty side effect, like a third arm or a heart of stone. But …
Ugh, I hate this!
I slap at a few bubbles that have drifted into the air, wishing I could slap Nate instead. Every time I think of him, every time I remember Scarlett whispering into his ear, I feel a physical pain tightening my insides. It was
