What had that Bastard done? Bing Lee that Bastard. He was shaking. Half with fear half with anticipation. He had invited, Lizzie, here. To Stay. For an indefinite period of time. How could he have done such a thing? It was hard enough to deal with for a 5 minute period how would he manage bumping into her. Speaking to her. Interacting with her. Seeing her. No!

How could he? He social class alone would be one of many reasons to simply ignore her. So why couldn't he?

He saw her as a problem, a problem that he seemed to keep running into. No matter how much he tried, she kept running into him. Was this purposeful? Did she reciprocate his feelings? No. That was impossible. It was simply a cruel twist of fate.

No matter how many times he wanted to call her back after a particularly heated argument, he couldn't, he had to continue the façade, even if he had to unleash his arsey side. It was true. He was being a dick and he hated it, but he couldn't look at her and not melt when she smiled, which rarely happened when he was in the room.

Hoping to get her out of his life sooner, he visited her house and asked the site foreman for some details. Another week. That's what he said.

2 weeks later she was still there, like an infected wound that just wouldn't heal. One day while Lizzie was safely locked in her room, which she seemed to do a lot, he mentioned his visit to Jane. Later that day Jane actually visited the house.

That day was the last day he saw Lizzie for a while. She was gone. Gone from his life. The wound had healed, leaving behind a simple scar.