“Are you Gianna?”
I whirled around to see a short girl with black hair. “Yes?” Weird, I didn’t recognize her.
“You’re Caleb’s girlfriend?”
“Yes,” I repeated, figuring some girl labeling me as his girlfriend equaled an unhappy past hook up.
“I’m Christina, Norah’s roommate,” she said as if I should know either of those names. At my purposely blank look, she continued, her attitude altering as she became more confident. “Anyways, I just thought you should know they dated while you two were broken up and Norah’s hurt that he dumped her to get back together with you.”
“What are you talking about?”
“They really liked each other and Norah says he was really into it, if you know what I mean, but he broke up with her last Saturday.”
Last Saturday Caleb and I had been back together for two days. “Caleb has never had any girlfriend but me.”
“Maybe they didn’t make if official, but dating and getting naked sort of implies it,” she said sarcastically with a roll of her dark eyes.
Dating and getting naked. Wow, was that a knife entering my gut or this helpful bitch’s sharp claws?
“Why are you telling me this?”
Her smile turned sly. “We girls gotta watch out for each other.”
Right, I was totally feeling her sisterly love. “How the heck did you even know who I was?”
She shrugged. “Internet and social media. I’m good with computers.”
Funny, she didn’t look like a hacker, but what did I know? I grabbed the handle of my cart, smiling with fake sweetness. “Thanks for the heads up, but I’m not stupid enough to believe some girl who stalked me to the grocery store to impart the information.”
With that, I wheeled my cart the hell out of there. I’d find Chance’s chicken nuggets and everything else on my list at another store.
*****
The day was already crappy and now I stood staring down at the mess on the garage’s concrete floor. Just great. The spaghetti sauce that was meant for tonight was splattered along with broken chunks of glass.
First a strange girl tells me Caleb had another girlfriend while we were broken up for two short weeks and that he screwed around with her and now I had to plan something else for dinner.
After putting away the rest of the groceries, I took paper towels, a trash can and a broom into the garage to clean up. Chance was with my mom today and I’d be alone until either my dad or Caleb showed up.
And I really wanted to speak with Caleb.
I was not a chef, so the options were limited. Spaghetti had become a once-a-week event. Breakfast for dinner was also a regular menu item. I had all the stuff for fettuccine alfredo so that plus frozen garlic bread I could pop in the oven was the meal I decided on.
I wouldn’t need to start dinner for another forty-five minutes, so I grabbed the mailbox key off the entry table and walked to the mailbox. Dialing Caleb on my way, I got his voicemail. He was hanging out with Dante this afternoon but planned to come over for dinner. I didn’t leave a message.
Retrieving the mail from our slot, I locked the mailbox and sorted through it as I went back to the house. All of it was generically addressed junk mail or bills for my dad except a large yellow envelope with my name on it.
The envelope looked official, with Gianna Thorpe printed on it and the name of some lawyer’s office as the sender. It would round out a crappy day to find out I was being sued or something equally as bad. Could a seventeen-year-old be sued?
Leaving my dad’s mail and the junk mail on the front table, I tore open the manila envelope as I entered the living room. The only contents were a sheet of binder paper. Unfolding it, I read the note.
Written in thick penciled letters was, Ha! ha! Got you, bitch. Can’t wait to fuck you up.
The single sheet of paper floated onto the coffee table.
My cell phone beeped from my pocket, but I stood staring at the ugly words staring up at me.
Got you, bitch.
Got you, bitch.
Suddenly, all I could see was Josh’s face contorted in rage and his angry words, You’re a cold bitch.
I screamed, running to the front door to double check the deadbolt. From there I made sure all the doors and windows on the bottom floor were secure. Upstairs, I locked my bedroom door, then went into the bathroom and locked it, also. Hiding in the shower seemed like a good idea. I should have thought to snatch Chance’s baseball bat from his bedroom. Or a really big knife like on a scary movie.
Got you, bitch.
With shaky hands I called my dad’s cell. He answered with me on speakerphone. “I’m almost home.”
“Dad! Someone wants to kill me. I think it might be Josh!” I felt a panic attack coming on and struggled to fight it.