Carrier of the Mark

I didn’t know where to look.

“Nice to meet you, Megan,” he muttered, and started backing away, tripping over himself. “I’m sorry, Mr. Rosenberg, but I’m in a hurry.”

“Of course, of course.” My dad’s forehead was crinkled in confusion as he leaned closer to me. “That was weird. He’s normally so friendly. Never mind, let’s get those chips.”

With my stomach twisting uncomfortably, the last thing I felt like was fries. I glanced over my shoulder at the fast-departing Adam.

“Don’t worry about him, Dad,” I said, faking a smile. “I’m not bothered.”

But I was lying. Adam’s reaction did bother me. It bothered me so much it hurt.

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