Zoe
One year earlier
June26, 6:07 AM
Everything feels wrong when I come to. My head is pounding; my skin is sticky with cold sweat. My entire body hurts, and my stomach cramps. I have to throw up. I fall out of bed rather than get up, and when I do manage to get to my feet, my legs buckle under me.
Dizzy. I feel so terribly dizzy. My pulse is racing, too fast, too frantically.
Everything is wrong.
So wrong.
I feel numb. I try to sit up again but fail.
My body no longer belongs to me; it doesn’t obey me. I feel so sick. Somewhere in my head, a voice tells me to get help.
Help.
I need help urgently, but no sound comes from my mouth. My voice doesn’t obey me any more than the rest of my body.
Slowly, far too slowly, I manage to turn my head. I know where I am. It’s Charlotte’s guest room, familiar from all the times I’vestayed here before. On the chair are the clothes I was wearing yesterday. My bag is next to it.
My phone. I left it in my pocket, didn’t I? I can’t remember.
I don’t remember anything.
Nothing. My mind is completely blank. I’m so dizzy.
I whimper as I crawl to the chair and reach for my bag. My hands are shaking so badly that it takes a while before I can finally pick up my phone. The letters and numbers on the screen swim in front of me, but I find the right name, the right number.
“Zoe, have you looked at the clock? Do you know what time it is?” Caleb grumbles sleepily. I can only sob, a sob that contains a hint of relief and a lot of confusion.
“Caleb,” I manage to say.
“What’s going on? Are you okay?” Suddenly my brother sounds wide awake, and I want to cry and curl up and sleep.
“Something’s wrong. I don’t... feel good.”
“Are you still at Charlotte’s?”
I nod before remembering he can’t see me. “Yes.”
“Okay, I’ll be right there.” He doesn’t hang up. I hear him getting dressed and saying something to someone, but I don’t understand a word. Then he talks to me again, but my brain feels like it’s wrapped in cotton balls. I’m so dizzy.
All I know is that Caleb takes seven minutes and forty-three seconds to reach me, and he doesn’t finish the phone call until he’s there in the room. The back door wasn’t locked, so it was easy for him to get into the house.
I see his look of horror when he finds me cowering on the floor.
He begins to swear, reaches for my clothes, and helps me getdressed. I’m not wearing my underwear anymore, and I didn’t even notice. I start to cry, because only now do I realize what must have happened. And at the same time, I understand nothing. Because things like this happen to other people, not to me. I was at a party with my friends. I knew almost everyone there.
“We have to take you to the hospital,” Caleb says. He’s pale as chalk. He seems totally overwhelmed, and I’m starting to feel guilty for having called him. “I have to call the police.”
I shake my head. “No police. Please.”
Caleb looks at me like I’ve lost my mind, and maybe I have.
“I don’t want to... Please, I...” I can’t tell him why; I don’t even know myself. But everything inside me is protesting against calling anyone. “Just bring me home.”
