Don’t know what surprised me more, the realization that Jodi was not only in my room, but also watching me sleep like some twisted stalker. Or the realization that I felt goose bumps at the sight of her. I thought I was over her.

I stood there for a moment, staring into her beautiful eyes, almost mesmerized.

“What did you want to talk about?” I asked, going for casual, but landing somewhere near Squeaksville.

She flashed an innocent smile. “I wanted to tell you why I stood you up the other night.”

What? “This oughta be good,” I said, nonplussed. “Why is that?”

She stepped toward me, rather aggressively. “First, why don’t you tell me how you got that shiner there.” She kept walking closer. I felt trapped, like a deer in headlights I froze.

“Eh, I, uh.”

She was too close now. I could almost taste her breath, effervescent, smelled like Scope. “Try using some multiple syllable words,” she suggested, playfully.

“I fell down the stairs.”

“Tell me the truth,” Jodi demanded, flashing a twisted grin.