Follow Her Home by Steph Cha

about that, he knows everything about my family. That makes me think that if he is a psycho, he’s a psycho with means.”
    Diego shook his head. “I still think you should call the police.”
    â€œI’m thinking about it. The chance that he’d track down my family is probably minimal. The thing is that the one time in a hundred that it actually happens, my family gets hurt because of me. And I know firsthand that he’s dangerous in a very real way.”
    â€œSo what do you do? Pretend nothing happened?”
    â€œI can’t do that either. But the more I think about it, I really can’t go to the police right away. I need information on what’s happening, who the guy is, and what power he has over me and my family. When I’m satisfied, then I call the cops.”
    After fifteen seconds of silence, Diego spoke up in a slow, clear whisper. “Are you saying you’re going to keep playing detective? Are you out of your mind?”
    â€œWhat choice do I have?”
    â€œSong, you’ve been assaulted and threatened by someone you don’t know anything about, not to mention there’s a corpse in your trunk.”
    â€œI think I know what I’m doing.” As soon as I said the words, I knew they were ridiculous.
    â€œYou have no idea what you’re doing. You can’t keep going with this.”
    â€œI told you not to tell me what to do.” I felt my ears go hot. He placed a hand on my shoulder. It was warm and heavy through the white cotton of my shirt.
    â€œI know you’re tough, and in ninety-nine out of a hundred situations I would trust you with my life, but this is an incredibly unusual situation, and your life could actually be in danger. You’ve had a traumatic day. My God, getting assaulted on a dark street was just the beginning. You found a dead body. I know you can’t be okay right now, no matter how—”
    â€œStop stop stop!” I shook my head on the third stop like an insect had flown into my ear. The violence of the motion made my swollen crown smart. He flinched and jerked his hand away. I sat up, leaned forward, and focused on a spot on his shoulder. “God, Diego, I hate when you do this. Do you have any idea how annoying it is to hear you go on about what I’m feeling? I’m fine. You need to stop thinking I’m some fragile fucking snowflake just because you’ve seen me cry once or twice.”
    My face was hot and I was startled at my own anger. I forced myself to look him in the eye. He didn’t return my gaze. His eyes were lowered and glued loosely somewhere on his coffee table. I waited for him to say something. It was a long wait.
    He swiped twice at the bulb of his nose with the flat of his thumb. His voice came out bruised and soft. “You’re asking me to let you put yourself in harm’s way. You’re right, I shouldn’t assume I know how you’re feeling, and if you say you’re fine, I believe you and that’s wonderful. But please, please take care of yourself.”
    â€œLook, I know I’m new to this sort of thing, but I know what I’m doing. I like living, you know, probably more than you like having me live.”
    â€œClear your head, Song. Going after Iris’s boyfriend didn’t make you a detective, and reading all the books will never make you Marlowe. How on earth could you possibly know what you’re doing?” He fixed those gleaming binoculars on me with the earnestness of a child.
    The door opened like magic as I struggled for a plausible answer. Jackie Blumenthal Diaz walked in shoulder first in a plain white tank and gym shorts. Her forehead and bare arms glistened with the sweat of good health.
    â€œI’m home.” Her eyes took a second to find mine and she looked at me with surprise approaching panic. “Juniper, I didn’t know you were coming.”
    Jackie was Diego’s classmate in law