Lucy.
The call ends. It immediately starts ringing again.
“G.”
She doesn’t move.
I lean further off the bed and shake her shoulder. “G. Wake up. Your phone.”
She mumbles in her sleep.
I say louder, “Gianna. Lucy’s calling you again.”
I put the phone in her hand. She blinks at the screen. Her thumb gets there before her brain. She answers on the last ring.
“Lucy, hey—”
Her face scrunches as I hear only a fraction of what Lucy’s saying. She sits up so fast the sleeping bag falls down to her waist.
“Wait — what — slow down — Lucy, slow down, I can’t —what?”
I sit up against the headboard, heart hammering.
“Your face?” Gianna gasps, covering her mouth. “Okay. Okay, okay, okay. I’m coming. I’m at Benson’s. I’m coming right now.”
I sit up, putting my feet on the ground. I’m trying to listen, but I can’t hear what she’s saying.
“Lucy, Camdenthe. Camdenthe. I’m on my way. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”
She hangs up and looks at me.
“What?” I ask.
“I don’t know,” Gianna says, shooting to her feet. She’s looking around for her things. “But I have to go. She’s freaking out.”
I pull a clean t-shirt over my head and grab the hoodie off the back of my desk chair.
“I’m coming.”
“No.” She shakes her head.
“G.”
“No, Benson. She specifically saiddon’t bring anyone.”
I stop with the hoodie halfway over my head. “What?”
She’s at the door, touching her back pocket for her phone that she’s holding in her other hand. When she realizes she has her phone, she shakes her head at herself.
“Text me, please.”
“Don’t come over.”
“I won’t.”
She leaves. I hear her running down the stairs. I’m left standing in the middle of my bedroom in a hoodie and one shoe. I take it off and fall back into bed.What the fuck is going on?
Thirty minutes go by, and I’m feeling anxious. I text Gianna.
