Twenty
I run. My limbs feel weak, and my heart pounds unnaturally fast, but still I run. I have to. I need to. How could he do this to me? I push harder, the dark forest streaming past me, air burning in my throat. I don’t want to think of him. Not ever again. But every footstep that slams into the ground shoots his name across my mind. Nate, Nate, Nate, Nate, Nate—Ugh! How could he do this? I skid to a halt, stumble, and trip over a pixie that wasn’t there a second ago. It scurries away as I fall onto my hands and knees. I clench a fistful of leaves and twigs and let out a wordless scream.
It feels good.
I crawl toward the gnarled roots of the nearest tree and collapse against them. My breathing is heavy. I guess Zinnia was right about me needing more rest. I close my eyes and see Nate
