“Clem?”I call, one hand on the door frame.
There’s no answer, just a muffled sound from inside, and I realize I was wrong: she’s not sobbing, she’schoking.
I try the doorknob, but it’s locked.Probably a bathroom.
I slam my shoulder against the door, and it shudders but doesn’t budge.
From inside the room, I just hear another wheeze, the sound of someone struggling for breath.
“Get away from the door!”I shout, and take a step back, readying myself.
I pause a moment, gathering myself.I find the best spot on the door: right above the knob, the most likely to pop the lock.
Then I kick it in with as much force as I can muster.
ChapterThree
Clementine
I putboth hands on the edge of the sink and grip the porcelain so hard my fingertips go white.Then I force myself to stop coughing for just long enough to finally take a real breath.
Hunter’s outside.I don’t know how the hell he found me down here, but he’s shouting my name.I can’t even answer without coughing harder.
God, don’t let me be the first person to die from inhaling fruit punch while her ex-boyfriend pounds on the bathroom door, I think.How did this even happen?
“Move back!”Hunter shouts, and at that moment, I start coughing hard again, tears running down my face, bent over the sink.
I wave one hand at the door helplessly, likethatwill somehow keep him from doing whatever he’s about to do.
It doesn’t.
A second later there’s a crash and the door flies open, the doorknob slamming into the wall.I bury my face in my elbow, still coughing hard, as Hunter rushes toward me.
All I can do is hold up my other hand and shake my head, hoping to communicateplease don’t try the Heimlich and break my ribs or something.
“Clem,” he says, but he stops just short of me, hovering both hands near my shoulder.
I shake my head harder, then grip the sink again and take another long, shaky inhale.
“What happened?”he asks, still sounding concerned.
His voice still sounds almost the same.He’s got the same slow, twangy cadence that he used to have, the one he learned growing up on his parents’ cattle ranch.I think he’s a little raspier now, maybe a little deeper, and his words might be a little more clipped, but he’s unmistakablyfamiliar.
As an answer I just point at my half-full glass of punch, sitting on the sink, and start coughing again.This time he puts on big hand on my back, right between my shoulder blades, and even though I’m still gasping and hacking, it’s warm and comforting.
“I’m fine,” I finally manage to gasp.A tear runs down my bright red face.
“This is fine?”he asks, letting his fingers rub a small circle on my upper spine.
I’m still coughing and just nod, meeting his gaze in the mirror.He doesn’t look worried any more.If anything, he looks slightly amused.
“Because itseemslike you took your drink into the bathroom with you and now you’re choking half to death,” Hunter says, his hand still circling my back.
I inhale again, clear my throat, and manage to not start coughing.
“Appearances,” I start.
I cough again, but get it under control.
