Katie took a quick glance over her shoulder. Sure enough, there sat Derrick Stone in all his glory, arms crossed on the bar, head full of black hair hanging down. Katie's fingers skipped back and forth on the bottles in front of her. Why am I so nervous? This is nothing. Ugh, I can't believe him! Why would he come here? I don't want to see him, I want nothing to do with him. 'Give me a beer please.' Really? Where's the imagination? Where's the respect? It wasn't even a question. Why not start with an apology? 'Hey Katie, I'm really sorry for screwing you over. Here's a million bucks!' Oh my god! Why am I getting so worked up? He has no control over me. He has no control over me. He has no control. No control. No control. No control!!!
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