Scarlett had her arm around Bella's shoulders, her head tilted close, her voice low as she talked about something Winter could not follow and did not care to follow. She kept touching Bella, patting her arm, squeezing her hand, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Every touch made Winter's chest feel tight.
Winter's eyes narrowed.
She glared at Scarlett, her dark eyes sharp and cold, fixed on Scarlett's face like a hawk watching a mouse. Bella was her friend. Her only friend. The only person who had shared her lunch, offered her a race ticket, and asked to be friends without flinching at her oddness. And now Scarlett was touching her, hugging her, claiming her like she had the right.
Winter's glare intensified. She could feel the heat building behind her eyes, the muscles in her jaw tightening.
Hazel noticed.
