"Nah, I don't. She's losing it."
"All right, you can go."
I was going regardless, but whatever. Fucking dick.
"Thanks a lot, fuckers!" Saige yells as we pass them on our way out the door. "Way to be heroes!"
Blythe follows us to the car, but I have a hard fucking time getting her into the seat and then making her stay there.
I start thinking about chloroform again. Fuck my life.
"I'm not going with him!" Saige shouts as she jumps out of the driver's side.
I can't chase her around the car again.
"Hey, Saige," Blythe says, trying to calm her. "You're attracting a lot of attention, and you're wasted. Someone is going to call the police, and you're going to end up spending the night in jail. You need to go sleep it off."
"Good. I belong in jail, anyway."
Oh, for fuck's sake…
"I'll go with you," Blythe says. "Okay? You can sit with me. I'm just trying to help you."
"That's what he says, too, but he isnottrying to help me."
I throw my arms up in defeat. "All right. I fucking give up; I'm calling Dax."
"No, please don't," Saige says. "Please don't call him."
"It's not like I want to. I have no fucking choice, Saige. You won't listen to me, but you'll listen to him."
She shakes her head. "I'll get in the car. With her."
"Perfect," I grumble, rolling my eyes as I head to the other side of the car.
It's a short drive—less than ten minutes—but Saige falls asleep in the front seat with Blythe. The entire thing is fucking weird. It's not that I have some kind of problem with Blythe, but I just want to be alone with Saige. And it's going to be awkward when I tell her to go home.
I pull into the driveway, park the car, and disable the alarm.
"I'm going to take her inside, and then I'll drive you home, all right? Unless you want to go back to the party…?"
"No, home is fine," she says.
"All right. I'llbe right back."
I move to her side of the car, picking Saige up and carrying her like a baby into the house. She barely stirs, not even when I have to shift her weight onto one arm to open the door.
She feels good like this, though—curled up against my chest, peaceful for once. I dip my head and smell her hair, then try to convince myself I didn't do it.
Instead of carrying her to her room, I take her upstairs, lay her in my bed, and cover her up.
"I don't want to be in here," she mumbles without opening her eyes.
"It's okay," I tell her, brushing her hair away from her face. "I'll be right back."
I get stuck there for a minute without realizing it, running my fingers through her hair. Remembering Blythe, I hurry back downstairs and out to the car.
"Okay…you live on Fern, right?"
