Kara Cameron: I don't need a ride. My heart fell in my stomach. What the hell is happening? He had sent it last night. Probably just right after I fell asleep. Did he mean he didn't need a ride today? I shut the voice in my head before I started jumping to conclusions and blowing this out of proportion like I did last night. I should just ask him what he meant. Not that he gave me any clear answers. His answers just raised more questions on top of questions. I sat on my bed and read his text message over and over, waiting for another one from him. As if he'd just sent it and was about to send another one. I needed him to clarify. Of course, there wasn't another text coming. I typed furiously. Kara: Okay. You need a ride tonight? I stared at the screen, waiting. Willing him to reply. There was no sign that he read it. Nothing. I wasn't sure which one was worse: if he read my message and ignored it or waiting for him to read it. There was a nagging and unsettling feeling in my chest that something was wrong. My intuition was telling me that there was more to his text. And the last time I ignored that intuition I got sacked in the face by a patient. Still. Maybe my senses had dulled because I was seeing everything with my emotions. Could I still trust my intuition? How did I know it was my intuition and not just my feelings for him clouding my judgment? I bit my lip, debating whether I should give him a call or not. I didn't want to annoy him by being a pest. Whoa, whoa, whoa. Why was I hesitating to call him? It was just a phone call. It's not a big deal. It wasn't like I was in a game show where I could only phone a friend once. I could phone him as many times as I wanted. Not that I would. This old timer had enough pride for that. Still, he made me feel so unsure. The prick. Or was that my own insecurities getting the better of me? Get your head out of your ass, girl. Be in love, if that's what you want, but don't lose your head. Be practical. What the hell was happening to me? The heart eyes didn't fall off my face. I flicked them off. I phoned him. I ignored my heart when it started to beat fast. But he had turned his phone off. A feeling of gloominess was starting to descend on top of my head. I kept convincing myself that this didn't mean anything. Nothing had changed. I'd see him on campus later. He'd probably text me later to tell me to pick him up tonight after his practice. He didn't. I found myself looking for him in the lecture hall, but other than his teammates, I didn't see him anywhere. What if something happened to him? Last night he told me that there were things he wanted to protect me from. Was it the mafia? What the hell. What if something bad happened to him? Or maybe he was an undercover agent. An assassin? A superhero with a dark past? A fallen angel? Or maybe it was as simple as his own complicated issues? Simple. Right. Calm your tits, girl. I exited out of my last class, walked to the water fountain even though I didn't need a refill. He probably had something planned with his team or an appointment. Or a million other things. He had a business he was running after all. He could be having a meeting with Iron Man and Captain America. Who the hell knows? But the thing was... why did he turn off his phone? And why didn't he answer my text? And why was I obsessing about this? I was loitering, I realized, annoyed with myself. I had a mental picture of me looking like Humpty Dumpty in Puss in Boots creeping in the background, shady as hell, spying on Puss. Thirsty much? But it wasn't even thirstiness that was propelling me to the campus gym to see if he was there. It was out of concern now. The gym was empty. Frustrated, itchy, I lingered there, debating with myself. A picture of him lying on the floor of his apartment bleeding pushed me out of the campus. And following my intuition, I drove to his place. His place looked and already felt empty as I pulled to his driveway. Still I got out of my car, walked to his front door, and pressed the doorbell. I wanted to show him I could be mature, especially after last night, so I waited for another thirty seconds before pressing the doorbell again. He's gone. My heart started to beat like a drum in my chest. Sure, we talked last night. And he confessed some intense feelings he had for me. And I kissed him. But there were no promises. Calm the hell down. Holy crap, girl. You're not even a couple yet and one time he hadn't replied to your text and you're freaking out? If I were him, I'd hide from you too. Man, you're wacko. Right, right. I was overreacting. He was just probably in the washroom, pooping. Suddenly I felt a prickle at the back of my neck. I felt edgy, as if someone was watching me. I turned around. And saw the black Ferrari parked two houses away. It was idling. It was already dark outside. Coupled with the darkly tinted windows, I couldn't see who it was behind the wheel. Watching me. My body felt cold, numb, an instinctive response when there was danger in the vicinity. I felt... scared. And when I felt scared, I got angry. And when I got angry, I wanted to fight. I forced myself to walk down the driveway, ready to confront whoever the hell was hiding behind that tinted windshield. And then the car moved. Slowly, quietly, as if it was telling me that it wasn't intimidated or worried about me approaching it. It stopped for a second or two in front of me, as if sending me a message.