When school ended, Keeley headed toward the subway station, as usual. Her daily commute involved three connecting trains and a six-block walk each way.

Her father hadn't been happy about this initially—he was overprotective since her mother and brother had been killed in a robbery when she was younger—but Keeley insisted he needed to work and that everyone else managed.

He relented when she promised to check in every twenty minutes, as the journey took over an hour each way.

Suddenly, a hand grabbed her arm, pulling her into a waiting limousine. Kidnapping?! She wasn't even one of the wealthy students, but perhaps someone mistook her uniform.

"I know karate!" Keeley shouted, panicked.

This was only partially true; she'd quit at ten. Her skills were rusty, but she could still deliver a decent kick in a pinch.

"Do you really want to use it in here?" a cold, amused voice asked.

Aaron. He raised an eyebrow, as if she were foolish, making her blush.

"What are you doing? I have to go home."

"I'll take you there. From what I've heard, the subway sounds dreadful. I don't know how you tolerate it."

His words were disdainful and haughty, infuriating Keeley. Millions of New Yorkers used the subway daily! It was perfectly acceptable transportation!

"That's unnecessary," she sniffed. "Let me out."

"Drive, Carlton," Aaron said dismissively, ignoring her.

The car sped off, jolting Keeley forward onto Aaron's lap. She quickly recovered, buckling her seatbelt; leaping into traffic was not an option. She'd find a way out at the next stop.

"Why are you doing this?"

Keeley had no idea what he was thinking. Brooklyn was far from the Upper East Side; there was no reason to go so out of his way. Didn't wealthy people value their time?

"I don't have to explain myself."

A typical Aaron response. She'd initially found his aloofness charming, an intriguing mystery.

How foolish she'd been. There was nothing mysterious about him; he was exactly as he seemed—cold and emotionless.

Keeley remained silent, waiting for an escape opportunity, but the child locks were engaged—only the driver could unlock the car.

"This is kidnapping. I should call the police," she muttered.

Aaron actually smiled—a genuine smile. Once, she would have been touched, but now it seemed sinister.

"I'm sure they'd believe you."

The same excuse he'd used before Keeley died, when she'd threatened to report her suspicions about him and Lacy covering up her father's death. A shiver ran down her spine.

She chose to remain quiet. No point in provoking him. She'd give him a fake Brooklyn address and walk home, no matter how long it took.

Aaron ignored her, reading Time magazine as if abducting a classmate were perfectly normal. What teenager read Time? Rich kids were strange.

It was even stranger that he kidnapped her only to ignore her. His logic was baffling.

Keeley gazed out the window as they crossed the Brooklyn Bridge. Even with traffic, her commute was halved.

"Let me off here," she said, spotting an apartment building a few blocks from her own.

"Thank you for the ride," she said grudgingly. "But don't do this again, it's weird. I don't even know you that well."

"You will," he said confidently. "We're desk mates, after all. See you tomorrow."

His words, though innocuous, unsettled her. What had she done to attract this creep's attention? Had it been her protest about the seating chart? They'd barely interacted! She'd need to be more alert tomorrow.

Keeley trudged the extra six blocks home, battling the winter wind. Warm for January, she thought sarcastically.

After a slow elevator ride to the 13th floor, she unlocked her apartment, sighing with relief. Home. At least Aaron didn't know her address. She felt safe here.

Her father arrived an hour and a half later, as she prepared pasta sauce. "Hey Dad, how was work?"

"Same as usual. Did you make meatballs?" he asked hopefully, hanging up his coat.

"What do you think?" she laughed. Homemade meatballs, using her mother's recipe, were a favorite.

They enjoyed dinner together, and Keeley relaxed. Today was an anomaly. Aaron would lose interest; he had before. Out of sight, out of mind.

She could change her lunch spot and route home. Then all she had to do was ignore him for an hour a day. Doable.