Blix slogged up the side of the mountain. Okay, maybe it wasn’t technically a mountain, but still… Her running blades weren’t designed for hills. Even waddling like a splay-footed penguin, it was all she could do to inch forward without tripping over the rise.

They had decided to head east. Tilden Regional Park lay just beyond the Berkeley hills. Thousands of acres of uninhabited wilderness, the perfect hideout while they worked their way to the reservoirs and waterways beyond.

But she hadn’t counted on the hill being so difficult to navigate. They’d been walking for hours, and they still hadn’t made it to the peak. And the skin on her legs felt like it had been scraped raw, dipped in hydrofluoric acid, and slow roasted over an open fire.

She needed to stop and get out of her sleeves, but it was starting to get dark and the bay-chilled fog was starting to soak through their clothes. If they could just get to the valley, they’d be able to sleep a lot drier. But the top of the hill seemed an eternity away.

A shriek broke the silence. Somewhere behind them. Whoever or whatever is was, they were getting closer. She stopped and looked back, half expecting to see a hoard of monsters swarming up the narrow road behind them. “I need to rest,” she forced out between breaths. “Just a few seconds.”

“No problem.” Alf inched closer, holding his hand out like he was afraid she’d bite it off. “I need a break too.”

She rolled her eyes. There was such a thing as being too nice. She wished he would just yell at her and be done with it. “Are you sorry you invited me along yet?”

The corner of his mouth quirked and he glanced away.

“You are!” She tugged at his jacket, forcing her way into his space. “It’s okay. I get it. I’m slow and pushy and sometimes I need to show more self-restraint.”

He shook his head, but he still wouldn’t look at her.

“Look, if we’re going to do this, you have to be honest with me. If I get on your nerves, just say it. Okay?”

He nodded down at the ground. “What about you? Are you sorry you partied up with me?”

“God, no!” Her laugh sounded like a pig snort. Which made her laugh even harder.

“Then this is me being honest.” He looked up from the ground and almost met her eyes. “I think we make a good team, but if you need to rest, you need to tell me. If you’re hurt or mad at me, or even if you just want me to carry you, you need to tell me. Okay?”

“Fine, but you need to stop treating me like I’m made of eggshells.”

“Sorry.” He looked back down at the ground. “That’s how I am with people. It’s not because you’re…”

“Say it.” She stepped into him, forcing him to give way. “It’s not because I’m what?” She shoved him in the chest. “Say it!”

“I don’t… Is amputee the right word? I don’t want to, you know, make you feel put down.”

“Amputee is fine!” She didn’t mean to be a bitch about it, but he kept pushing her buttons. “Or cripple or defective or appendage-challenged or freak-show burn victim, I don’t care. The only way you’ll put me down is if you keep tiptoeing around the fact that I’m missing two and a half limbs and part of my face!”

“Sorry, I—”

“Don’t be!” She grabbed his hand and pressed it to the ruined part of her face.”See? It’s not—”

He sucked in his breath, his eyes bulging like he was about to pass out.

“Please tell me you’re not one of those twisted acrotomophiles that get off on amputees.”

“What? No!” He tried to pull his hand back, but she held on even tighter. “I don’t even know what that means.”

She moved his hand down the side of her neck, across her shoulder, and along her arm, tracing his fingers across her scars. “They don’t hurt. They’re just scars. Why does everybody have to make such a big deal about it?”

“Because you’re pretty,” he said in a hoarse whisper. “Guys have trouble acting normal around pretty girls.”

Then she punched him.

As hard as she could.

Right in the chest.

The shock of the blow tipped her off balance. She tottered backwards, fighting to regain her equilibrium, but the hill was too steep, and she slammed into the asphalt with lung-deflating force.

Humiliation washed over her like a tidal wave. She couldn’t breath, couldn’t roll over, couldn’t clamber onto her feet. But she had to get away. She hated tears, hated being pathetic and weak. Why wouldn’t he just leave her alone?

“That’s it!” she shouted into her hands. “We’re done. Get away from me. Now!”