I was in Eric Welborn’s room.

  I leapt from the bed, and the cold carpet tickled my toes. I shivered, remembering the freezing rain I had been covered in. The entire night flashed through me like one of my detailed nightmares. I remembered Robb, and my neck burned.

  I covered my mouth. I didn’t need to deal with my emotions now. All I needed to do was get out of Eric’s house, and get out fast.

  I rushed to his door, grabbed the doorknob, and turned it. I listened for movements, but I heard nothing. The house seemed to be empty as I crept into the hallway.

  “Don’t worry.” Eric’s voice broke my confidence. “No one is home.”

  I froze, staring at only part of the kitchen I could see − the table.

  “I promise,” he called out, and I tiptoed toward the table, half-expecting the entire family to be waiting for me, but he was telling the truth. He was the only one there, and he was boiling water on the stovetop with his back facing me.

  I wrapped my arm around his t-shirt, wondering where my clothes had gone. My face was hot, and I was dizzy. It was the only reason I surrendered and sat down.

  “How are you feeling?” he asked.

  I laid my forehead on the table and reminded myself to breathe. I couldn’t believe where I was or what had happened. My last memory was twisting any sanity I had left. I remembered a girl magically appearing in the backseat of his car. It didn’t make sense.

  The table rocked, and I looked up to stare at a cup of steaming liquid. Eric was sitting across from me. “Is this for me?” I squeaked.

  He tilted his head. “Who else would it be for?”

  I didn’t respond as I grabbed the mug and sipped the hot tea. It soothed my throat, but it also calmed my nerves. It was possibly the best drink I had ever had.

  Eric was staring into his mug. “Are—” he paused as I noticed the shadows beneath his eyes. He hadn’t slept. “Are you okay, Jessica?”

  He was sincere, but his tone frightened me. It was the same one he used at the hospital.

  “I’m fine,” I lied, wondering how he had even driven me the night before. He didn’t have a car, and I wanted to ask him about it, but he gripped his mug like heat couldn’t burn him.

  “And your neck?”

  I nearly choked on my tea. “I’m okay,” I repeated, but Eric wasn’t moving.

  “I’m going to confront Robb tomorrow,” he said.

  I straightened up. “I can handle it.”

  “Can you?” His tone was as rigid as his stare. It was the first time he looked at me all morning.

  “I’m capable,” I argued, desperately wanting to stop the aftermath of my actions, but Eric wasn’t giving up.

  “You weren’t last night.” He scooted his chair back only to move it forward again. He took a drink and practically slammed his glass down. “I know you’re capable, Jessica,” he said. “But that’s why I don’t understand why you’re acting this way.”

  I couldn’t fathom what he was saying. “You’re mad at me.”

  His shoulders dropped. “I’m frustrated.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you’re not acting like yourself,” he said, meeting my eyes again. The emerald color shuddered through me, and heat crept over the bruises that had formed overnight.

  “You don’t know me that well.”

  He waved his hand over me. “Don’t I?”

  His words froze me, and I remembered kissing him. As much as I wanted to hate the drunken actions, I could still feel the clarity and comfort that had washed over me during the moment. He was a momentary fantasy of the dream boy I was looking for, and I had never been happier leaning against him. But his words were cold.

  I lowered my face. “You’re being really mean.”

  “I’m being honest,” he whispered, waving his fingers where I was focused on the table. He wanted me to look up, but I couldn’t.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, rubbing my temples. “I’m just really confused right now.”

  “You don’t have to tell me that, Jessica,” he said, and I glanced up to see a small smile spread across his face.

  He sighed, and it disappeared as if it had never existed before. We sipped our tea to avoid conversing. I couldn’t blame him for the silence because I didn’t want to talk either. I wasn’t sure what to ask first − how a girl had appeared in his car I didn’t know he had, or why I was in his clothes. But I knew I had to ask one of them.

  “I—I saw something strange,” I stuttered.

  Eric’s eyes were slits. “You were drunk.” Somehow, his words didn’t seem sincere anymore.

  “I didn’t know you got a new car,” I retaliated, but he didn’t tense.

  “I guess you’ve been in both of mine now,” he said, and my stomach twisted. He really had a knack for controlling the conversation. “Anything else you’d like to know?”

  “Your clothes,” I said.

  It was the first time I saw him squirm.

  He spit his drink into his cup, coughing up the liquid he choked on. I tensed at his reaction and waited for his answer, but he couldn’t speak through his chokes. He scooted away from the table and retrieved a glass of water. The few minutes passed like hours.

  “You were soaked,” he said, pressing his palms against the countertop. “I didn’t want you to get pneumonia. Nothing happened between us.”

  Except the kiss. I doubted I imagined it like how I had seen the woman appear in his car.

  “I helped you change,” he continued. “That’s it. I promise.”

  The words caused my head to spin, and I gripped the table, but it didn’t help. I fell over, stopping in mid-air. Even though he had been across the room, Eric had caught me. My vision blurred but refocused on his burning eyes. They looked blue, and I had to blink to see his emerald gaze again. His stare was ablaze.

  “Are you okay, Jessica?” His voice was rushed as he helped me up. “Can you hear me?”

  My cheeks were as hot as the rest of my body. “Must be the hangover,” I said, but his misty gaze shifted. “Why do you look at me like that?” I asked.

  He let me go and turned his face away. “Look at you like what?”

  Before he could step away, I grabbed the end of his shirt. “Your eyes,” I said. “You look sad.” I didn’t know how else to word it. He was acting like our kiss had broken him, and his reaction was breaking me.

  His hand snaked around his back, and he grabbed mine. His fingers shook when he pulled my grip off of him, but he didn’t let me go. “I’m fine, Jessica,” he said.

  “I’m sorry that I kissed you,” I blurted out.

  He dropped my hand then. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

  My heart lurched. “What?”

  “That I’ve been kissed,” he said, but his voice was tight. “It’s okay.” He collapsed in his seat in a way that suggested it wasn’t alright. “I think I’ll live.”

  “So, you’ll forgive me?” My voice was squeaking, and Eric’s cracked.

  “If you stay out of trouble.”

  “I will,” I promised.

  He smirked his usual “I’m-one-step-ahead-of-you” grin and placed his hands behind his head. “Then, you’re forgiven,” he said, “by me, at least.”

  I didn’t understand. “Who else did I upset?”

  He cocked an eyebrow. “Don’t parents get upset when their daughter doesn’t show up?”

  “I was supposed to stay at Crystal’s,” I said.

  He chuckled. “You’ll still get in trouble.”

  I cringed. I had lost everything I had taken to the bar, including my phone. “You’re probably right.”

  He tapped his temple. “I have a lot of insight.”

  “Or a lot of experience,” I retorted, and he opened his mouth to continue the banter, but the front door opened.

  I jumped, but Eric stood up and laid his hand on my shoulder. “It’s fine,” he said. “It’s just George.”

  “What is he doing here?” I hissed, but it was too late. George had already scaled the stairs to the kitchen.

  “Hello, Ms. Taylor,” he said, waving his cracked palm in my direction. I felt naked in Eric’s t-shirt and boxers, but George didn’t flinch. “I suspect you slept well last night.”

  I couldn’t say a word to the man. He wasn’t Eric’s father, but he seemed to be more present than Eric’s actual one. George was talking to Eric when I finally noticed the stack of clothes in his hands.

  “Are those mine?” I asked.

  The older man handed them to me. “Teresa dropped them off at my house this morning,” he explained, and I wondered if I hadn’t imagined the woman after all. “They just came out of the dryer.”

  I beamed when I grabbed them. “Thank you,” I exasperated, clutching the cleaned dress with desperation.

  Eric pointed over his shoulder. “There’s a bathroom across from my bedroom.”

  I ran faster than I thought my dizzy legs could take me. I slammed the door, and I practically ripped Eric’s clothes off to put mine on. With my attire returned, I felt like my usual self. Not my drunken, dangerous, delusional self. That wasn’t me. It never had been.

  I folded Eric’s clothes and put them on the counter before I left the bathroom. I lingered in the hallway, wondering why George was accepting me when I heard them talking.

  “Of course I didn’t tell your father,” George said, and his words slammed against my head. “You need to get this place cleaned up, or he’s going to realize someone slept on the couch.”

  “I wasn’t exactly sleeping, Urte,” Eric mumbled. The nickname made me hold my breath. “It was torture having her here.”

  “You’re going to have to forget about it,” George said. “You are close enough to your birthday that you can’t risk this. The prophecy will only tolerate so much.”

  “I had to do it,” Eric said, and I heard his footsteps cross the room. He would see me any minute.

  “You have to take care of yourself first, kid,” George said.

  “But—” Eric stopped speaking when he rounded the corner and saw me. His mouth hung open, and George started talking, but Eric lifted his hand. “You’re already dressed,” he said, and I stepped closer.

  Unlike Eric, George’s reaction was neutral. “I didn’t hear you come down the hallway.” George’s words felt like a lecture.

  “I guess I’m quiet,” I muttered, trying to catch Eric’s startled expression again, but it was gone. He was looking out of the kitchen window.

  “Well, then.” George whistled, clapping his hands together. “Are you ready to go?”

  “Go?” I asked.

  “Go home,” Eric explained. “I have a doctor’s appointment, so George has to take you.”

  “Oh.” I turned to Jonathon’s father, hoping this wouldn’t become part of his daily biography he gave his son. “Yeah. I’d love to go home.”

  Jessica

  I locked the door the instant I stepped into my house. I was thankful George hadn’t attempted a conversation, and I was hoping I wouldn’t have to have one with my parents. But I doubted it.

  I only got halfway upstairs before my mother shouted from the kitchen. “Is that you, Jessie?” She appeared as soon as her question dissipated, but I kept walking toward my bedroom. She followed me. “Where were you? Are you okay? You look sick. What happened?”

  “Nothing,” I grumbled, grabbing a towel from my shelf as I went toward my bathroom.

  She cut me off at the doorway. Her hair was in a bigger mess than I was in. She didn’t look mad at all.

  “Can I get a shower first?” I asked.

  Her bottom lip quivered as she stepped to the side.

  I walked past her with guilt leading the way. I had to get cleaned up before I explained myself, but I knew it wasn’t fair. I pushed the thoughts away as I stepped out of my dress and into the shower. The hot water stung my neck, and I ran a rag across my back and stomach. The dirt in my hair felt like it would never come out, and I had to wash it twice before I was satisfied. If only the soap could wash away the memories of Robb.

  Maybe Eric was right. I couldn’t handle it.

  The memories were as painful as the actual moment. My friend had choked me, not to mention forced a kiss on me, and I was more broken than when I had given up on finding my parents. Strangely enough, I couldn’t recall why I gave up during the summer, but Eric could see it before I did. I wasn’t acting like myself. I lost myself somewhere, but I didn’t know how to get myself back. The only time I felt complete was in my dreams. Until kissing Eric. I closed my eyes to rid myself of the feeling, but the sound came without warning:

  Thud-thump. Thud-thump. Thud-thump.

  His heartbeat.

  My stomach churned, and I fell on my knees and threw up. I coughed, choking on the taste of the tea I had earlier. I rubbed my face and watched the discolored liquid swirl down the drain with the soap. When it was gone, I turned off the water and stood on shaky knees.

  I got out, wrapped myself in the towel, and opened my bathroom door. Steam curled against the ceiling, and I ran my hand over my clean hair. My insides felt worse than my body.

  “Jessie?”

  I was shocked my mother had stayed in my room. “Mom—”

  “Are you okay, sweetheart?” she asked.

  I walked into my closet before she saw the bruises on my neck. I didn’t know how I would explain, so I grabbed a turtleneck and pulled it over my head.

  “I’m fine,” I lied, stepping out to face her.

  She was sitting on my bed, and her fingernails dragged across my sheets. “I heard you puke.”

  “It was nothing.”

  “Crystal’s mom dropped off your purse this morning,” she revealed her knowledge. “Lola said Crystal showed up intoxicated without you, and I called Robb’s phone, but he didn’t answer.”

  His name made my empty stomach lurch. “It’s not what you think,” I attempted, but she cut me off.

  “I’m glad you’re okay, Jessie,” she said. “But I’m worried. Your father is, too.” She was paler than I had ever seen her before. “I know you’re a teenager, but this is so unlike you—”

  “I know,” I managed. “And I’m sorry. I just got caught up, and it won’t happen again.” It was a promise I knew I would keep, but strangely enough, I wanted to keep it because I promised Eric.

  My mom laid her hands in her lap. “What happened, Jessie?”

  I didn’t know what to tell her, but I knew I couldn’t tell her everything. I couldn’t even tell myself. “My friend helped me,” I explained. “I stayed at his house.”

  Her eyebrows shot up to her hairline. “His?”

  “Eric,” I clarified. “Nothing happened.”

  Her face twisted. “Isn’t he that Welborn kid? The one with the Charger − the one who wrecked his Charger?”

  “Yeah,” I breathed. “It’s okay. He put me in a guest room.” I couldn’t tell her it was his room.

  Her eyes lingered on my expression like she already knew, and I prepared myself for her nice side to slip into the protective parent she usually was. Instead, she stood up, crossed the room, and draped her arms around my shoulders. She squeezed me into a hug, and I winced as she brushed my neck.

  “I love you, Jessie,” she said, holding my shoulders as she stepped back. “You know that your father and I are here for you.”

  I couldn’t believe it.

  “I know, Mom.”

  She touched my hair as it began to curl. “So, you can come talk to us when you need to,” she continued, tapping her fingertip against my forehead. “But don’t think we’ll tolerate this a second time.”

  I had to bite my lip. I didn’t want to speak because I was afraid I’d cry. I didn’t deserve her help. I had broken her rules, acted recklessly, and lied about it. I wanted to be yelled at. I wanted to be grounded or punished or anything. Just not dismissed as if I hadn’t done anything.

  “Get some sleep,” she said, turning to my door. “It’ll help with the hangover.”

  Before I could thank her, she left and shut my door. I wished she had slammed it. I was shaking, and I wrapped my arms around my chest to keep my sobs inside, but it didn’t work. I couldn’t deny the truth any longer. I cried.

  Eric

  “Does it hurt here?” The doctor pressed my chest for the hundredth time.

  “Not at all.”

  “How about here?” He had barely moved his finger.

  “Nope.”

  His brow furrowed behind his glasses. “Now, don’t lie to me, Eric,” he pretended to joke, but he failed miserably.

  “I’m not lying,” I said, and for once, I was telling the truth. The pressure didn’t hurt. It was more annoying than anything. “I feel fine.” Aside from my senses. They were enhancing as we spoke, and I knew it was because I accepted the fact that I was fully healed. I could turn into a shade whenever I wanted to, and my body yearned for the transition.

  The florescent lights stung, and the smells curdled in my lungs. Every time I moved, the sheet beneath me ripped, and I cringed. It was hard enough to ignore the sounds of six other patients in the same hallway as they did the same thing. Service clerks tapped their keyboards, and someone banged on a nearby vending machine. If the customer moved it to the left, the snack would be free.

  “Is there any pain here?”

  “There’s no pain, Doc,” I replied, fighting the urge to rub my temples. “I think I’m healed.”

  The man didn’t say anything as he sat down and glanced over the computer screen turned away from me. I kicked my legs back and forth, staring at the photos on the walls − two mountains and one informative piece on STDs. I wished I hadn’t tried to distract myself.

  “Sir.” There was a knocking on the door as it opened, and it reminded me of how Noah entered my room. “The boy’s father is here.”

  I tensed when he appeared. “You’re home early,” I said, but he was concentrating on the doctor.

  “Hello, Mr. Welborn,” the doctor said, shaking his hand. “How was your trip?” Apparently, the entire town knew about it, which was exactly what the Dark wanted.

  “Tiring, but good,” he answered. “Sorry I’m late.”

 

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