Chapter One
The guy on the other side of the craft supplies store is watching me. Perhaps it’s because I’ve been sitting on the worn-out carpet against the scrapbooking shelf for over an hour, slowly tapping my iPad. It isn’t the kind of store floor one would normally get comfy on for several hours, so he no doubt thinks I’m a bit strange. The people who work here think I’m strange, but I’ve sat in this store every day after school for the past year, so they’re used to me now. And as long as they don’t bother to put any chairs out, I’ll continue to use the floor.
I tilt my head down again, letting my hair fall forward to shield my face. Strands of unnaturally dark hair block at least half my view of the iPad, but I’m not doing anything that requires a great deal of skill, so it doesn’t m
