I folded the sheet of paper that I wrote it on, creasing it unnecessarily tightly, and put it through a crack in Jeremy’s locker. If he knew what was good for him, he’d listen to me. It’s not that I’m still mad at him—I’m much better now—it’s that if he ran, then Jared would most surely find him and commit criminal acts. I couldn’t imagine too-nice-for-anyone-Jared doing that, but he did promise me that he’d stop Jeremy from hurting me again. “So what’d you write on it?” he asked me as soon as we turned down the stairs to the first level. “No problem,” he said unsolicited. “Cool. In that order?”