11

Saturday—I was sitting in my empty house, watching the news in the living room because I was too lazy to find the remote.

The doorbell rang. I thought it was a package delivery because my dad loved wasting his money on old vinyl records or first edition books.

When I opened the front door, my head tilted quizzically.

"Miller? What are you doing at my house?"

Zac grinned at me, amusement washing over his features. "Nice to see you too, Bloom."

He allowed himself into my house, walking right past me. I gaped at him. "What—what are you doing here?"

"Nice home," he glanced around. "Very—homey."

I narrowed my...