I race back into my bedroom, burning up. I can't think straight, and my mind is a jumbled mess. Every inch of my body is on fire as I rummage through my cupboards for my laptop. I hid it because I know Dad would try to find it and either throw it in the bin or hide it in a place I'll never be able to find it again. Looking up suddenly, I stare at my reflection in the mirror. God, a mess is an understatement. I look like an ogre. Like a tornado picked me off my feet and threw me down a mountain, and I crawled my way back through the door before Nate arrived.
Which is strange because I looked decent before going out with Emerson this evening. As fast as I can, I run my fingers through my curls to straighten them, and swapped the tank top I'm wearing for a black, hairy, comfortable cardigan,
