“No wonder you act so out of it half the time. Sometimes you don’t even remember what you said a minute before. Or you directly contradict parts of your personality, sometimes within the same conversation.”
“That would be why.”I lay back down next to him, though he was still sitting up.“I’m starting to block you more, aren’t I?”
“What makes you think that?”
“All the questions. You ask things about my life all the time, but you never need that much detail. Could you not hear it this time?”
“Parts of it.”
“But not most of it?”I took his silence as confirmation.“How am I doing this? I wanna know. It’s driving me crazy.”
“You don’t remember details of your episodes, right?”he asked.
“Why? What’d I do?” I groaned and sat up. “Is it something embarrassing?”
“No. I thought it was cute,” he said. “You were excited about the mind reading.”
“I wasexcited?” My brows furrowed. That couldn’t be right. It was so obnoxious, I was positive even my manic self would hate it.
“You called it ‘so cool’ and asked if I’m telepathic.”
“Fuck.” I flopped backward as he started laughing. I’d been told that ‘so cool’ was one of manic Emy’s favorite phrases. He was telling the truth. “I’m sorry. I get so annoying. What else did I do?”
“Nothing annoying. You’re adorable manic.” He smiled as I cocked an eyebrow. “What? I like you both ways. Of course I prefer you sane, but I can handle manic you when it happens. The only weird part is that you’re less aggressive.” He chuckled when I smacked his arm. “I should probably go. It’s getting late,” he said, glancing at the time.
“You barely even sleep.” I sulked as he left the bed.
“I’ll come back tomorrow.”
“Wait.”I sat up and hestopped near the door.“If you can’t always hear me, can you still hear when I want you around? Like if I need you or something, will you hear me?”
“I always hear that,” he said.“Don’t worry about it.I’ll be here.‘Night, Vixen.”
“Goodnight.” I got Frankie and my new stuffed animaloncehe left and snuggled beneath the covers.
* * *
Screaming intensified as something shook me. Red was flowing. A man was shouting. Another was begging for his life.
“Emy!”
My eyes shot open and I boltedupright.
“You’re safe.” Ari took my shoulders as I started to cry. “We’re at home. Nothing’s happening.”
“I don’t—” I took a heaving breath,“know why—”another,“this keeps happening—”
“Breathe.” She rubbed my back while Ihyperventilated. “Don’t try to talk, just breathe. It’s okay.I’mrighthere.”
A few minutes of suffocating and streaming tears passed. I turned to Ari once I could talk.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. That’s what I’m here for.”She yawned and climbed beneath the covers. “Scoot over so I can be your second Frankie.”
I moved asideto give her half the bed, then glanced at the time. It was almost four in the morning. My night terror must have woken her. I had dreamt about my dad. About that night.
“Thank you.”I held Frankie tight and shut my eyes.
