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desperate and depressed one from the other day. She hadn't stayed beaten after what Andre had
done to her—if that was even true, and I believed it was—and I doubted she would with Lissa
either. Mia was a survivor.
"She got rid of you, and you're too high and mighty to admit it." Her blue eyes practically
bugged out. "Don't you want to get back at her?”
"Are you more psycho than usual? She's my best friend. And why are you still following me?”
Mia tsked. "She doesn't act like it. Come on, tell me what happened at the clinic. It's something
big, isn't it? She really is pregnant, right? Tell me what it is.”
"Go away.”
"If you tell me, I'll get Jesse and Ralf to say they made all that stuff up.”
I stopped walking and spun around to face her. Scared, she took a few steps backward. She
must have recalled some of my past threats of physical violence.
"I already know they made it all up, because I didn't do any of it. And if you try to turn me
against Lissa one more time, the stories are going to be about you bleeding, because I'll have
ripped your throat out!”
My voice grew louder with each word until I practically shouted. Mia stepped back further,
clearly terrified.
"You really are crazy. No wonder she dropped you." She shrugged. "Whatever. I'll find out
what's going on without you."
When the dance came that weekend, I decided I really didn't want to go. It had sounded stupid
to begin with, and I'd only been interested in going to the after-parties anyway. But without
Lissa, I wasn't likely to gain admission to those. Instead, I holed up in my room, trying—and
failing—to do some homework. Through the bond, I felt all sorts of mixed emotions from her,