Carrie grins. “Or pissed.”
“Why would she be mad at me?” I protest. “I’m perfect!”
“You keep telling yourself that…”
I plaster a grin on my face, but deep down, Amy’s silence is freaking me out. Something’s bothering me, and I can’t put my finger on it. She’s complicated—that much I know. But I still can’t figure out what I could’ve done wrong. Nothing happened. The last time we saw each other, back at the gym, we had a great time. So why do I have such a bad feeling about this?
“Seriously, it’s all good between us,” I insist, and I don’t know who I’m trying to convince. “Anyway, if Amy had a problem with me, I woulddefinitelyknow about it already.”
I’m trying to put on a brave face, but inside, I’m a wreck. Ghosting isn’t her style. She always replies to my messages; she always picks up when I call. Did something happen while I was away? Something to do with New York?
“Why don’t you stop by her place?” Lois suggests, concern edging into her voice.
“I tried already. She’s not home.”
“If she wants space, you should give it,” Carrie says. “It’s not like you guys are close, right?”
“Of course we are!” I blurt, a little too forcefully.
“Really?”
I don’t want to talk about this with them—not until I’ve seen Amy.
“I mean, you know… She’s my trainee. And she saved my Dodge, remember? So…”
“Yeah, that must’ve been a real bonding experience.”
I shoot Carrie a look. She’s acting weirder than usual, which is saying something. And Lois has this strange expression on her face. I take a step back, squinting at them.
“Okay… Spill,” I say sternly. “What aren’t you two telling me?”
“Nothing!”Lois gasps.
Major red flag.
“Lois…” I warn.
“Is it me, or is itsupercold today?” She hugs her arms around herself. “I’m heading inside.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” I hold up a hand. “If Amy told you g—”
“Relax, dude!” Lane jerks his head to the right. “She’s right there.”
I follow his gaze.
Firebird, walking under the trees.
My heart lurches. I spin on my heel, but a few quick strides later, I stop in my tracks. I’m picking up on her vibe from here. Her face is hard. Closed. Intimidating, to be perfectly honest. Just like it was the first time we met. She had softened lately, her features taking on a sweeter, more relaxed feel. That’s all gone now, and I was right to worry, I realize—something is very, very wrong here.
“Firebird!” Don calls out, but she ignores him.
Passersby are glancing over at us, and I’m not buying she didn’t hear. Not for a second.
“Hey! Amy!” I try.
“Everything’s good between you guys, huh?” Carrie mutters.
I guess I’m about to find out.
