**Priscilla’s POV:**

“Is he harassing you?” he asked again.

“Nope.”

“We were just done with the conversation; he’s about to leave,” I said, looking at him.

His eyes went from David to me, then to David again. What he said next was something I had never thought he would say to me in a million years.

“Why don’t I walk you home?”

“Me?” I asked.

“Yes, you, or perhaps I shouldn’t bother.”

“No… I mean yes,” I blurted. “Please walk me home.”

He started walking. There wasn’t a shred of hesitation as I grabbed my bag and hurried after him; he was already moving up the path. I took one last look at David’s face. He was livid. I knew if looks could kill, I would be dead ten times over. He knew he couldn’t touch me or stop me again for the fear of Peter. Peter was twice his size, and perhaps he presumed we were close and might hit him if he tried to stop me again. I didn’t care about his assumptions; anything beats staying with David here.

I quickened my pace to catch up to him; he was moving very fast. “Wait up!”

His steps slowed just slightly, and I caught up to him.

“Do you know what the time is?” he asked. “It’s half an hour past midnight.”

He was right. It was really late. I hadn’t realized it was that late. I’ve wasted so much time with David, I thought. My mom would kill me; I wondered why she hasn’t been blowing up my phone. I remembered my phone was dead. I have a habit of leaving my phone charger behind, a habit my mom had reprimanded me for on several occasions for the same reason of my cellphone being unreachable in important situations such as this. I would have quite an earful today.

“Are you fearless or just plain clueless?” he asked.

I was bewildered. I didn’t know what I was expecting, but it definitely wasn’t that.

“A bit of both,” I said with a laugh that died when he gave me that cold look again.

“Do you know how dangerous it is to be walking alone at night as a woman? Anything could happen.”

“Yes, I do.”

“No, I doubt. You wouldn’t be here if you did.”

“Don’t you have parents that would caution you from attending late-night parties with a psychotic boyfriend who would rather argue than take you home quite this late?”

It stung a bit.

“I was working, and he’s not my boyfriend,” I blurted out. I was more concerned with clearing up the latter, and for some unhinged reason, I felt inclined to say it again. “He’s not my boyfriend.”

“What kind of lunatic allows a minor to work this late?” he asked. He didn’t make any comments about the new information I gave him about David. He didn’t care.

“I don’t complain; the wages paid are quite fair.”

“They pay fair enough to risk your life for?” he asked.

His pace quickened again, and I was almost running after him. “You are walking too fast,” I said.

“No, you are walking too slow. Perhaps you’ve lost track of time.”

He stopped abruptly in front of me, and I also stopped to see why he did. He stared at me with a blank expression.

“Where’s the way to your house?” he asked.

I felt so stupid; of course, he didn’t know. I realized we were at a crossroads, and he didn’t know which turn to take. I pointed him in the direction of the way home. He walked in that direction, and I hurried after him again.

It was quite chilly outside. Other than the fear of being harmed, there’s a soothing feeling that comes with walking at night—staring at the city lights, walking under the blinding lights of the streetlamps, feeling the serenity of nature at its peak. There were still a few men left on the road, walking seemingly aimlessly. They looked menacing, and I would have froze at the very sight of them if Peter wasn’t with me.

There was still an underlying feeling of puzzlement; why did Peter offer to walk me home. I didn’t bother to think about it earlier; I was more eager to get away from David.

“Why did you offer to walk me home?” I finally summoned the courage to ask.

“Would you rather I leave you with him?” he replied coolly, still walking ahead.

I walked slowly behind him. I knew it was a stupid question; he would have done that for anybody. I kept portraying myself as an idiot every time I opened my mouth. Perhaps I should just shut up and walk. I watched his muscles flexed as he walked. He looked so handsome with his face fully illuminated under the streetlights. My eyes kept drifting to his smooth, silky hair and his smoothly shaved rigid jaw.

The silence was becoming awkward and uncomfortable for me. I tried again.

“So, what are you doing outside at this hour?”

No response. Was it a stupid question, I thought.

“Are you exercising for the next football game?” I cringed right after I said it. That definitely was a stupid question. His mom just died, and football is probably the last thing on his mind. But sport is a good way to get over grief; it wasn’t that a stupid question. He did have some jogging boots on. I cleared my throat to cut out the conflicting voices in my head.

“It’s quite a beautiful night, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” he replied coldly. His reply was so nonchalant; I regretted I asked immediately. It was such a hackneyed question to ask; I cringed that I did.

“Communication goes two ways, you know,” I told him. “I say something, you reply. That’s how communication works.”

He stared at me with a blank expression and continued walking.

“You ought to contribute to a conversation.” I added

“I don’t have to if I don’t want to.” He replied abruptly

Perhaps Janet was right; he is indeed a jerk. Who does he think he is?

“You are very rude,” I blurted out. “That’s a bad way to treat people, you know. Yelling at people who try to empathize with you and being rude for absolutely no reason.”

He stopped to look at me with a blank expression. I expected him to stop escorting me, but I didn’t care; I’d had it with him and could walk home myself. I would be fine on my own; it’s probably better than walking with a jerk who is making me feel so stupid about myself.

But, to my surprise, he continued walking with me. Perhaps he is also going in this direction, but then again, why is he still walking side by side with me, trying to match my pace? I said nothing. I wouldn’t say anything to him again; why bother when he wouldn’t reply? I can’t believe I crushed hard on a jerk like him; it seems I have a curse of falling for jerks.

I realized I was getting ahead of myself; there was never a prospect of any romance between us; he just offered to walk me home when I was in distress. He never offered me friendship nor a date walk. But nonetheless, he should contribute to a conversation; it’s common etiquette 101. His voice jolted me out of my trance.

It caught me off guard. Did he just apologize to me, or was my mind playing tricks on me? I’d gotten too deep in the trance.

I stared at him; he still had his blank expression, walking with his eyes fixated on the road and his mouth was tightly shut. I guess I had gotten the answer to my question, I was hearing nonsense. I should have known he would never apologize to me in a million years.

“And I apologize for yelling at you today,” he said again.