Eddie takes a few steps toward the door, ready to race out after his friend. Amber tries to stop him, mumbling something to him that I can’t quite comprehend.
Everything is fading.
The sounds…
The lights…
That familiar pain in my chest aching so hard it feels like my heart’s about to burst.
Black spots dot my vision seconds before I hit the ground, the cold, hardwood floor is the only thing that reaches out to embrace me, taking me back to that dark place that brings me peace.
When I finally wake up, I’m in a hospital room. The lights above me sear my retinas with a blinding white beam that makes me immediately close my eyes.
“She’s awake!” a familiar voice exclaims, and suddenly someone takes my hand.
“We were so worried, baby.”
My mother.
“Weren’t we worried, honey?”
A grunt.
Must be my father.
My eyes flutter open to see my parents and sister sitting at my bedside. My mother looks genuinely concerned; my father does not. He’s standing by the door, arms crossed, his pressed suit impeccable as always.
He’s naturally annoyed, especially when it comes to me. I can do everything right, and it’s still never enough. I received perfect attendance every year that I went to school, never missing a day (except senior ditch day), even when I was sick. He didn’t care. Those straight A’s I achieved on every report card didn’t even matter to him. Hell, I was valedictorian of my graduating class, and he talked on his phone during my whole speech, not hearing a single word. The only time he’s ever been proud of me is when I told him I got accepted to Yale. He almost celebrated that. Then I decided to take my core classes at UNR to stay near my sister, and that pride faded. Stanford wasn’t good enough for him. To everyone else, you’d think I was his perfect child, but behind closed doors, I’m nothing to him. I’ve always played it off like I’mhis favorite, but that’s always been Pippa. If people only knew the truth.
The doctor comes in, and my father instantly softens, putting on that concerned father face someone would expect in this situation.
“Hello, I’m Dr. Vale. How are you feeling, Poppy?”
I blink a few times. “A little hazy, actually.”
He nods. “Well, that’s to be expected. Can I ask you something?”
“Sure,” I say warily.
“Do you take recreational drugs?”
My father’s hardened gaze snaps my way, making my blood turn cold.
“N—No,” I stutter out.
My sister smirks, enjoying my discomfort. Thankfully, nobody sees it.
Dr. Vale frowns. “That’s what I thought. Well, I hate to inform you of this, Ms. Kiplinger, but last night you were drugged.”
“Drugged?”
He nods. “I was told you were at a club last night.”
My head bobs, but it suddenly feels like my neck weighs a thousand pounds.
He pats my hand. “Date rape drugs are common in clubs. We found certain traces of chemicals found in what people know as a common roofie, but also some other things we’ve never seen in date rape drugs before. It’s strange, and something new to worry about hitting the streets. Whatever it was, it’s concerning.”
I feel like a deer caught in headlights.
