The Fall Risk

by Abby Jimenez

If only stalkers were transferable.

“Women solve entire murders on their podcasts, you think I can’t find out all I need to know about some rando I met on the lawn?”

“So you have a fish?” I asked. “Yeah. A betta fish.” “Oh. Does he have a name?” “He does. Swim Shady.” I barked out a laugh. “Is he the real Swim Shady or . . .” “All the other Swim Shadys are just imitating,” he said, totally serious.

“If you swing a baseball bat at someone, they sometimes try to take it from you. So if you have a sock on there, the sock slides off when they grab the bat, it puts them off balance, and you get a second swing to break their skull.” She sipped innocently on her drink.