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woods
for a little bit.”
    “ Okay,” she
says, reaching down to give my hand a squeeze. “Don't stay out
there too long.” She kisses me on the cheek and I head out the door
toward the woods.
    Once in the middle
of the woods, I start to pick up stray sticks and break them. It's
been my habit to do this whenever I'm upset. Mom knew it was best
to let me come back here rather than continue to talk about what
happened. I need a moment—a moment to be angry—and then I can go
back to real life.
    After about
five minutes of stick breaking, I find a tree I had forgotten
about. When I was thirteen, my junior-high boyfriend Mark Paulson
and I came back here and carved our initials into it inside a big
heart. At the time, it seemed like the right thing to do. Like
carving our initials into a tree trunk would solidify our
relationship as something that would stand the test of time. Two
weeks later, I caught him making out with Cynthia Parker behind the
school. He was the first boy to cheat on me and break my
heart.
    Damn that kid.
    I find myself a
stick almost as tall as me and hit it against that tree as hard as
I can.
    “ Jesus
Christ, Alina!”
    Spinning around, I
do a double take. “Ryan? What are you doing here?”
    He steps cautiously
forward, his skin glistening from being outside all day. “I called
your phone a few times and your mom finally answered. She thought
it had to be serious if I wouldn't stop calling. She told me where
you were.”
    “ Of course
she did. How'd you get here so fast?”
    “ The house
I'm working on is a few miles east of here.”
    “ Why were you
calling?”
    “ I just got
off work and thought I'd see if you were ready for dinner. I wasn't
sure if you were hungry yet. I was getting a little worried when
you weren't answering.”
    “ Oh.” Why
would he be worried about me?
    “ So...” He
stuffs his hands into his pockets. “What are you doing here?”
    “ I went to my
apartment because I left my phone charger...and Victoria was
there.”
    “ Shit.”
    I huff. “That's an
understatement.” I pick up another stick.
    “ What did she
do?”
    “ She drove by
your place last night and saw my car. She basically told me I was a
whore for spending the night at your apartment.” I break my stick
in half. “That little bitch stood there accusing me of being the whore.” I point one of the sticks
to my chest. “Me.” Throwing the two pieces, I say, “We may have
kissed, but I wasn't screwing you behind her back.” I pick up a
longer stick and whack it hard against another tree causing it to
break and shoot off into the brush. “I'm not that kind of person. I'm the kind of person who keeps having
that shit happen to me.” When I lean my back against the tree, my
chin starts to quiver. Before I can stop it, the tears spill
over. My hands cover my face.
    Almost immediately,
Ryan gathers me into his arms. My fingers grip his shirt as I let
it all out. He holds me tightly, whispering comforting words as he
rubs my back.
    “ God, why am
I crying?” I let out a choked grunt. “It needs to stop.”
    His
hand smoothes down my hair.
“I was actually surprised you didn't cry yesterday.”
    Shaking my head
against his chest, I say, “I hardly ever cry. Especially over
breakups. If a guy doesn't treat me right, I'm better off without
him. I usually just get angry.”
    He tries—and fails—to stifle a chuckle. “I
noticed that.” He holds me closer. “Victoria has an evil side that
is willing to step on and crush anything— anyone —that
threatens her. You're a threat to her because you're a better
person. She wants to break down your defenses and break your
spirit.” He presses a kiss to the top of my head. “Be strong like I
know you are and don't let her get to you. She's heartless. Don't
let her win.”
    I smile at his
consoling words. “Thank you,” I whisper. I look up at him. “Did you
know Drew and I were talking about moving in together?”
    His eyebrows quirk,
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