Me: I got us good seats. Center aisle, fifth row back. Where are you?
Teach: …
I see three dots appear in the message box, letting me know that she’s responding to my text, but then they disappear. She stopped typing.
And I get a really bad feeling.
Willow
ONE HOUR AGO
I dig in my drawer for my Ravenclaw sweater that I’ve owned for half my life. It’s a little worse for wear, but it’s my favorite Harry Potter paraphernalia. I’m searching for my small crossbody bag when Kia comes into the room. I don’t know where she’s been, but she smells a little like marijuana.
“Were you smoking?”
“I had an edible.”
“Well, I can smell it.”
She hops on her bed.
“It was an infused Rice Krispies treat. It was soooo good.”
“Have you seen my handbag?”
“Nope.”
I search behind my chest of drawers. Sometimes it falls behind there.
“Where are you going now?” she asks. “You always have something to do now.”
“To the Potter marathon.”
“Oh right, I should have known by the sweater.”
“You going with your nursing friends?”
“No,” I exhale.
I see where this conversation is headed, and we’d been doing so well for the last two days.
“Is Freak going?”
“Yep.”
“Whoa, I feel like I’m sinking into the bed.”
“Lay down,” I giggle. “You’re high as hell.”
“I thought I was lying down.”
“Found it!” I exclaim after locating my bag.
I stuff my ID and key card into the bag and grab my jacket.
“I’ll see you later,” I tell Kia. “And drink some water.”
She lets out an ugly cackle.
