??

"What's it like?" I asked, unsure of whether I should say the dreaded word.

"Schizophrenia? You can say it, Landon." Ainsley said nonchalantly, as if she could tell what I was thinking. "Sometimes it's nice. Sometimes I like escaping from here to go to a world of my own."

And suddenly she changed pace, clasping her hands over her ears and humming softly.

"What are you doing?" I asked Ainsley, her dark brown eyes dancing as she stared at me.

"The shadows are talking to me," she whispered.

"What are they saying?" I asked, the curiosity evident in my voice.

"They're telling me how I'm going to drown. I'm going to fall into the water, and I'm going to lose my breath, and I'm not going to be able to get it back until you leave because you always take my breath away," Ainsley murmured, her eyes now closed.

"That's real-"
"Sh..the shadows are still talking."
"What are they telling you now?"
"The shadows are telling me to kiss you."

I couldn't explain Ainsley Baxter. But in all her selfishness, in all her peculiarity, in all her mystery, in all her dependence, there was something deeply, deeply intriguing about her. And it made me fall in love with her even more.

"Maybe this time, we should listen to the shadows," I whispered, grabbing the nape of her neck and pulling her closer to me.

"Maybe," she whispered back as she wrapped her arms around me and met my lips.