I say to Natalie for the tenth time. “And just stop. She left, okay? I’m not going back up there with my nuts in a jar.” Her eyes soften and she bites her lip. Then the little terrorist turns angry. “What’s wrong with you? Are you dumb? Blind? In need of someone to slap you? Because I’ll do it!” She huffs around the room, mumbling. “Idiot. I swear to God, I don’t know why I talk to any of you. Jackson, Liam, Quinn, and now you!” “Are you pregnant again? You’re awfully hostile.” “I’ll show you hostile!” she screams and throws a wad of paper at me. “That wasn’t very nice. Why the hell do you care, anyway?” Her horns are sprouting. “Why do I care?” she yells, more antagonistic than actually curious. Since I got back from DC, she’s been relentless. This is what I get for texting people. Lee immediately called me, demanding I “fix this.” Telling me how people like Charlie don’t come into our lives every day. How when you have something that’s worth it, you have to go for it—like I told her and Jackson when they were making stupid choices.
