“He’s too good for you, you know.” I jolt slightly at the voice. I drop my eyes, and my heart sinks. A pretty little girl is standing in front of me as if waiting for an iced dirty chai tea latte of her own. Her blond hair curls around her heart-shaped face, and she’s wearing an immaculate and frilly pink dress. Her familiar blue eyes bore into me, an unreadable expression on her face. I hate this little girl. So much.
