I have you.
I’ll take care of this.
If fucking only.
Something tells me this isn’t just going to go away, even if it’s what I’m really hoping happens. Evil goes away if you just ignore it… right?
Yeah fucking right.
Evil festers.
I’ve already called Darcy for another chat—my excuse is that I want them to meet Gemma. Though, in reality, I need a reminder. All I could think about last night was what time the liquor store opened this morning. And when nine A.M. rolled around, I knew where my keys were. I knew where my boots were. I had the excuses planned out if I was caught, had the hiding places ready, the mouthwash and body spray to mask the scent—
And then when my boots were on and my keys were in my hand, I stopped at the door.
One sip gives them back all the power.
One sip makes them right.
I almost jump when my phone vibrates again.
GEMMA
I’m on the way up.
Shit.
I can’t look like I’ve been crying for the last couple of hours.
I quickly push my sneakers on my feet and grab a thin plaid jacket to wrap around my waist—double-checking in the mirror that no one can see the bruise still lingering on my shoulder from my stalker.
I look so fucking sad.
Yesterday, I was bubbles. I was giddy. I was moving forward and thinking I might have a chance to be happy.
Today feels like I’m back at square one.
The knock on my door pulls me out of the trance. I grab my sunglasses from the bowl, swing my belt bag over my shoulder so that it braces across my chest, and open the door.
A sigh leaves me when I see Gemma, and somehow, I can practically feel the light seeming to reach my eyes.
“Hey.”
I don’t know why my voice sounds weird.
“Hey,” she says, gaze wandering over me. “You ready?”
“Yeah,” I say as I close the door behind me. “I was going to bring snacks, but then realized I don’t have any food except caffeine bars to help me sleep,” I tell her once we’re at the elevators.
Gemma’s brows narrow at me. “Help you sleep?” she asks.
The bell dings.
“Oh. Yeah. Some types of caffeine just mellow me out or put me to sleep,” I reply.
She chuckles. “Don’t you drink coffee in the mornings?”
“Yeah, I can’t function without it either. It helps slow things down,” I admit. “It’s like my mind is a big knot of more knots, and once the coffee hits, it just starts unwinding. There’s still a lot going on up there, but it’s easier to manage. The energy drinks Reed and I get before our shows have green tea caffeine in them, and that’s the only kind that actually works like it’s supposed to. It’s like I hit this threshold where the coffee stops making me sane and starts putting me to sleep. Reed is like that, too, and now, you think I’m weird,” I say when I notice her face. “It’s an odd symptom to have, I know. I know—fuck—that sounds so weird. Now, I’m fucking weird. Shit. I made myself the weird girl—”
