“Goddamn it,” I rasp against the porcelain, my voice thin and thready.
There are many reasons I’m slowly wasting away, and I know throwing up my dinner so frequently is definitely one of them.
And as much as I want to fade away to nothing on nights like these, I can’t. I can’t let Wren down like that again.
I need to figure out how to eat more and keep it down, but not right now. Not when every part of me feels like a raw, bloody mess.
It’s been an entire week since I last had to puke after my nightly nightmares, so I thought I was getting better. I guess talking with Coop today brought everything back up. Yet another reminder that talking about stuff just makes it worse.
Sighing, I use every shred of willpower I have to get to my feet. I grit my teeth and ignore how weak and shaky I feel as I wash my mouth out and splash cold water on my face.
After patting my face dry, I stumble into my room and strip out of my pajamas. I throw on the first shirt, pants, and boots I come across. Then I grab my riding jacket I just tossed over the bench at the foot of my bed last night and walk out of my room.
Hastily shoving my helmet on, I make my way to my front door. I grab my gloves and keys before heading out to my bike in a daze.
Before I start my ride, I turn on my playlist that makes me think of Wren. I don’t know if the songs make me feel close to her or if I’m trying to punish myself for what happened, but listening to this playlist always emotionally destroys me. Yet it’s the only thing I can listen to after the nightmares.
“Before You Go” by Lewis Capaldi begins playing as I navigate out of the parking lot. I’m sure tears are dripping down my face, but I ignore them. I ride hard and fast out of the city and to the back roads. Thanks to my shifter eyesight, I can see the roads just as well in the middle of the night as I can during the day.
I take curves faster than I should as I try to outrun my thoughts. There’s just something about going way too fast that makes all the thoughts about Wren, how I let her down, and how damn much I wish I could go back in time, slow down. They don’t disappear altogether, but they’re not screaming as loudly in my head.
I don’t know how long I ride, but it’s long enough I start to get exhausted. I push through the fatigue until I come into acorner hot. When I grab the brake too hard, my rear end whips out from behind me. When it snaps back into place, I almost go headfirst over the handlebars. It’s only by sheer luck and my death grip on the bars that I don’t high side.
After I get my bike under control, I notice my heart is pounding in my ears, and I’m shaking so hard I’m struggling to shift. It must be the adrenaline from the almost crash.
Sighing, I look for a place to pull over. I need to get ahold of myself before I try to ride anymore, and I’m not ready to go back to my empty apartment yet.
I must be closer to town than I realized because I spot the same parking lot next to the river that I went to with Charlie. It seems forever ago that my best friend forced me to pose for a million pictures there.
After pulling into the lot, I turn off my bike and hop off. I roughly yank off my gloves and helmet before setting them on the seat. Not really able to care right now if someone steals all my stuff, I leave my gear there and walk over to the river in a haze.
Wren always loved the water and wanted to live by it someday, so oceans, lakes, and rivers make me think of her. It’s one of the reasons Willow Bend is perfect. I can come out here by the river and feel closer to her when I need to.
I blankly stare out at the water for what simultaneously feels like an eternity and no time at all before I hear footsteps behind me.
“Wild girl!” Hal calls. He lowers his massive frame onto the rock wall right next to me, hardly leaving a few inches between the two of us. “Fancy seeing you here.”
“Hi,” I croak. I rub my hands over my face, trying to catch any stray tears that leaked out and make myself look less like I’m falling apart.
I know it doesn’t work when Hal’s face falls as he gets a good look at me. His light green eyes shine with an emotion that looks a lot like heartbreak for a girl he barely knows. “Oh, wild girl, what happened?”
I mutely shake my head, not trusting my voice to come out steady. After staring at me for a moment, Hal wraps an arm around me and pulls me against his chest. I stiffen for a moment before going almost limp in his arms, something about him putting me at ease.
I fist his black hoodie as I try not to break apart in front of a relative stranger. Hal rocks me gently back and forth as I cobble myself together well enough to hold a conversation with him, even though I really don’t feel like talking to anyone.
After a couple of minutes, I pull back and duck my head, unable to look at him after the strangely intimate moment. “Sorry,” I mumble.
“’Bout what?”
I shrug. “Being a mess.”
He huffs a laugh. “We’re all messes. Every last one of us. Some people just hide it better than others.” Hal pauses for a moment, and I hear rustling. “Want some Skittles?”
I turn to look at him in confusion. “What?”
He shakes a bright red bag of candy. “Eating something sweet always makes the hard parts of life feel a little better, at least for me. So… you want some?”
“Sure,” I reflexively reply before I even have a chance to think it through.
