I contemplate whether or notto explain my speculations. She would never say anything (as she very well fucking demonstrated by keeping Win’s secret from me.) It feels like a betrayal to him but if I keep hoarding this infestation of spiraling thoughts inside, I’ll die.
“I think someone… hurt him.”
She’s quiet, mug cradled in her hands.
“In what way?”
I don’t want to speak it and give life to my suspicions. The idea alone awakens a mixture of rage and sorrow so potent that I’m reduced to a primal monster. It’s gnawing at the inside of my skull, the lining of my stomach, the muscles of my heart.
“I’m not exactly sure,” I clear my throat. “He has nightmares a lot. Bad ones. And panic attacks to the point of puking. I mean, it could be from the bullying, but… I don’t think that’s the only thing anymore. Not after what happened the other night.”
Andrea’s dark eyes burn into my face.
“You’re being incredibly vague and it’s making me nervous.”
Pins and needles prick my finger from the lack of circulation.
“I accidentally triggered him.”
And I fucking hate myself for it.
“Triggered him… how?”
Finally, I look at her.
“He was crying and I wanted to hold him, but when I pulled him into my lap…” The needles have moved to my chest to carve through the gaps in my ribs and puncture my lungs. “Helostit. It was like he was possessed. Like— like he didn’t know where he was or who he was with. Like he didn’t know it wasme.” It hurts.Oh, godit hurts. “But when he came out of it, he seemed so ashamed…”
An array of emotions play out across her face like a slideshow on fast forward: confusion to shock to horror to sadness toanger.
“You better not be implying what I think you are,” she growls. When I don’t deny it, her nostrils flare, eyes shimmering with fury. “Fuck,” she hisses under her breath. A pause. “Are you sure?”
I shake my head and whisper, “I really hope I’m wrong.”
Her hand covers mine and squeezes. “Me too.”
I squeeze it back, tears burning in my eyes. She doesn’t need to speak for me to hear her.I know I can’t fix it, but I’m here for you. Always.
We stare at the empty space between us with the weight of what hasn't been said, smothering us.After a while, she scoots across the couch to snuggle into my side and rest her head on my shoulder.
“Our world is a scary place,” she murmurs. I nod numbly as she goes on, “Shit, last weekend, Melody and Logan went to a party with a friend. I guess not long after they got there, he disappeared with some dudes. A few hours later, they found him out back… unconscious.”
Something nags at me from the fringes of my memory while barely suppressed fears and speculations whip into a violent tornado of distorted images. In place of some nameless partygoer, all I can see is my beautiful boyfriend.
I’m shaking.
I’m nauseous.
Really fucking nauseous.
“Where was this?” I ask. My voice doesn’t even sound like my own.
Andrea tenses. “Not sure, but Logan is on the baseball team so I assume the athletes dorms.”
Acid burns in the back of my throat. But before I can grill her for details, my phone vibrates. It’s a doorbell notification. I didn’t order anything. No one is supposed to stop by. Did Mitz escape? I swipe it open—
Thefuck…?
I lurch to my feet and withdraw my car keys from my pocket as Andrea scrambles after me.
