"Crystal," Angie said.
"What?" I snapped as I whipped around to face her.
"Come on. I know something's up, Crystie," she said. "Tell me!"
"Nothing is up. And, if you call me that again, you will not live to see tomorrow." I absolutely hated it when people called me Crystie. I hurried off before she could respond, not wanting to continue or little conversation. I did have a feeling that we would meet again.
When I got home, I slammed the door and headed upstairs to my room. I flopped onto my bed and thought about the recent events of my life. Sometimes, I wish it had never happened, and that I had never met Mal. I shouldn't have saved him. I should've just let Mike kill him.
My thoughts were interrupted when I heard a knock on my door.
"What?" I groaned, with my back still turned to the door, which I heard open, then close. I rolled over to see who it was and I was instantly filled with rage.
Mal.