Obsessed by Bella Winters

Author:Bella Winters [Winters, Bella]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-10-21T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

Emily

It’s been almost a week since I stopped going to classes, and I’m still not able to relax. After Peter left, I got dressed, opting for my yoga pants and an old school t-shirt from my freshman year, only because I didn’t see the point in dressing up if I am forbidden from setting foot outside the apartment.

Being in a particularly sulky mood because of that, I put on some Lana Del Rey and flopped onto the couch with my Organic Chemistry textbook. I’m sure anyone else in my position would be glad for some time off school, but with graduation still hanging in the balance, I’m a wreck about it.

My phone rings, the sound piercing the stillness of the apartment. I check the time as I answer and realize I’ve been lying here reading for three hours already. But before I give my lunchtime hunger pangs any attention, I answer the call.

“Hey, Heather, what’s up?” I’m happy to hear her voice. She’s been calling me every day to check up on me. I miss her.

“I miss you, that’s what’s up,” she says, as if she’s reading my mind. “Please tell me we can do something this weekend.”

“Peter doesn’t think it’s a good idea. Not until they can get a location on—on the stalker.” I curse softly under my breath at nearly letting Trevor’s name slip.

That’s another one of Peter’s rules: nobody can know he’s a suspect until the cops are ready to bring him in. I hate having to keep things from Heather this way, but she’ll understand once I can explain it to her.

“And how are things with Peter?” I can hear disappointment in her voice, but also something else that sounds like amusement.

“Are you ever going to give me a break on this?”

“Oh, come on, Em, you can’t expect me to say nothing when you break the news that you’re seeing someone, have subsequently moved in with him, and that he just happens to be a chief of police with ripped abs.”

I laugh. “As your best friend, I can ask anything of you.”

“Yeah, but as your best friend I reserve the right to make fun of you at will.”

I won’t say it, but I like that Heather spends some time giving me grief about Peter on these phone calls. It makes me feel as though things are normal. Even if it’s just for a little while.

We talk for an hour, just like every other time she calls. She fills me in on school and life on the outside, and I lament about being cooped up and losing my mind, just like every other time she calls.

“Okay, so spill,” Heather says, after I’ve given her a boring rundown of my breakfast routine. “What’s the deal with you and Peter?”

“What?” I don’t know how to respond to that. Mostly because I haven’t really made much sense of it myself.

“Don’t play coy with me, Em. I’ve known you for four years now, and I’ve never heard you get this way about a guy.

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