Chloe needs to be alone

Zack was gone. Yesterday's t-shirt hung over an open dresser drawer, and his duffel bag poked out from under the bed. He'd always been a mess, hadn't he? When they were kids, Mrs. Bishop never let him go out on the weekends if his room wasn't clean. At some point Chloe saw how close his bedroom window was to the beech tree in the Bishop's backyard, and she would climb up with any old CDs she'd bought with her allowance that week. They'd curl up on his unsorted laundry and listen until she had to go home for dinner.

Chloe picked up a black pair of headphones off her bedside table. A button press put the world on mute. Another sorted through the playlists on her phone: Daytrip, Gym, Homework, Metime, Party. Wait, no, back one.

Best Christmas gift ever, Gavin, she thought as she laid back on the bed. The first song's intro whispered in her ear, and her heart boomed in time with it.

Don't think about Zack. She slipped the straps of her one-piece swimsuit off her shoulders. Her nipples rose to attention, the right one tickling her palm. Think about you.