I knocked on the bathroom door.
“We need to talk,” I called through the door.
Only the sound of the shower answered.
I knocked again. Waited. I knocked again. Waited.
I raised my fist to knock again—the door was pulled open violently.
Cole stood in front of me, in only a towel, her hair wet and dripping, water droplets glistening across her collarbone, and steam from the bathroom behind her drifted forward.
“What?” she asked harshly.
“We need to talk,” I said, sheepishly.
“You’re playing a dangerous game,” she accused.
“I’m not playing a game,” I argued.
“What are you doing chasing me like a lost puppy then?” she asked.
“I… I didn’t mean… we can’t ignore this,” I said.
She stepped forward, and we were toe to toe, though she was taller than me.
“Move,” she commanded.
“Cole,” I begged, standing my ground. I needed to know what had happened, what this meant for me, and somehow manage to keep eye contact. “Do you really plan to just ignore what happened?” I asked.
“What happened, exactly?” she asked.
“You know,” I answered.
“You can’t even say it,” she scoffed and pressed forward. I stepped back without any choice, and she pushed me back further.
I looked away.
“Pathetic,” she hissed and turned, walking down the corridor and into her bedroom.
I stood in the hallway; a drop dripped from my chin, and I lifted my hand curiously to inspect it. I was crying. I hadn’t even noticed. What was wrong with me?
Eventually, I built up the energy to enter the bathroom and shower, washing the dirt from my body and the forest litter that had tangled in my hair before I fell into bed.
Sleep was surprisingly easy to find. My body sank into the mattress and the warmth of the duvet.
I dreamt of blurring trees and of rock and dirt under my nails as I propelled myself forward. Chasing a deer, I could almost feel what it would be like to bite down; the anticipation burst within me. When I leapt to take it down, I was intercepted. Wolves lunged at me from all angles, tearing into my flesh. I ran and ran, but I wasn’t fast enough; there were too many of them, and there was no escape—
“Wake up,” Cole demanded.
I did, clutching my chest with one hand and checking that my thigh wasn’t ripped open with the other.
Cole held me down against the mattress, stilling me easily.
“Hey, hey,” she said softly. “It’s just a dream.”
I gasped for air.
“You were dreaming. Shh, deep breaths,” she encouraged, showing what she wanted from me, inhaling deeply through her nose and exhaling slowly through her mouth. I copied her. “Just like that, good girl,” she praised.
