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That's what I tell myself anyway.

The bag rustles again.

“What now?”

“Water?”

“No.”

She pulls out a bottle for herself.

Then another.

And another.

I stare at the collection. “How long were you planning to watch my house?”

She twists off the cap and shrugs. “I don’t know. I like to be prepared.”

“You brought three bottles of water.”

“Hydration is important.”

“You were going to sit outside my house drinking water at midnight.”

“When you say it that way, it sounds weird.”

“It is weird.” I look back down at the bag. “You have Doritos. Beef jerky. Gummy bears. Water⁠—”

“There’s more.” She reaches into the bag.

I grab it. “I don’t give a fuck about the snacks. What were you going to do at my house?”

She drinks.

I wait.

She lowers the bottle. “I’m not telling you.”

I release her hand.

This is insane.

Completely fucking insane.

I look at her again. “You drink three bottles of water while sitting in a car, eventually you're going to have a problem.”

Her expression changes slightly. I know that look. She’s considering something. That alone concerns me.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Callie.”

“I planned ahead.”

Every instinct I possess tells me not to ask.