Page 112 of Cross Ice

Through the aisles. Past the registers. Out the automatic doors into the parking lot.

I was halfway to my car when I heard footsteps behind me.

“Wait… hold on…”

I turned. She’d followed me outside.

“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable,” she said. “I just thought… my son would really love to meet you. Could we exchange numbers? Maybe you and Nicolás could meet him sometime, just for a few minutes⁠—”

“No. I’m sorry. I can’t.”

“He’s a really good kid. He just came out last year and it’s been hard for him, and seeing Nicolás⁠—”

“I understand. But I can’t help you.”

I got to my Tesla and grabbed for the handle, but my hands were shaking so badly I couldn’t get a grip on it. She was still talking, still following, and I could feel the panic rising, hot and tight and suffocating.

I finally got the door open. Climbed in. Locked it.

She stood outside my car, phone still in her hand, looking confused and hurt.

I put my foot on the brake to start the car and pulled out, watching her in my rearview mirror as I pulled away.

She’d been nice. Genuinely kind. Just a mother wanting to do something good for her son, a gay teenager who needed to see people like Nico living openly.

And I’d run from her like she’d threatened me.

The guilt settled heavy in my chest. She hadn’t deserved that. Her son hadn’t deserved that. But I couldn’t make my body understand the difference between kind attention and invasive attention. Both felt like losing control.

I made it home and threw the deadbolt behind me. Double-checked the lock. Triple-checked it.

Then I sat on my couch and tried to breathe.

I pulled out my phone and texted Danny.

Evan

I went to the grocery store.

Evan

Someone recognized me and followed me to my car.

Three dots appeared immediately.

Danny

Are you okay?

Evan

I don’t know.

Danny

I’m coming over.

Evan