Emory

A potted plant flies across the room and stops halfway before reaching me. It falls to the floor, scattering glass, dirt, and tulips everywhere. I stare in shock at Willow who is standing by the window. I hadn’t expected to have something thrown at me.

“Sorry,” she says. “I thought you were Rainer.”

“That’s how you greet him?”

“He’s annoying. He deserves it.”

“Have you tried using words instead of breaking things?” I ask, moving around the mess on the floor to approach her. “There’s less clean up.”

“Talking with Rainer just makes me more upset. He lives to be the bane of my existence.”

That’s a title Rainer...