I cry and sob so much that I can't breathe right.
I get startled when Logan suddenly lowers his whole front seat and then pulls me to him. I end up with my butt in his lap and my legs in Ethan's lap, as he drives and looks at me with concern.
The situation would be really weird if I had any spare neurons to think about it, but since I don't, I gladly accept the comfort. Logan hugs me tight and I let myself cry copiously against his shirt.
"Shh, it's all okay. You're okay, baby." Ethan tries to console me, and I feel his touch on my leg, in soft, soothing movements.
"W-we c-could have died," I say, and it comes out like a stuttering, depressing babble.
"But it didn't happen, and everyone's fine." It's Logan who answers this time, his voice quiet but firm.
"Exactly. It was a shock, but you, Maddie, and all the girls are going to be okay."
"A-all my th-things... g-gone," I stammer again, like a child. Logan runs his hand up and down my back.
"Leave that to think about later, okay? We don't even know if it reached your room yet. And even if you lost something, you'll get everything back, okay? One little thing at a time," Ethan assures, and I sniffle pathetically.
I know he's right. They both are. But I'm incapable of thinking straight right now. Right now I'm just going to wallow in self-pity and be grateful I have two pairs of shoulders to cry on.
Chapter 17
Charlotte
I wake up to a weight around my waist and open my eyes, startled. The fright fades when I see the Royals flag hanging on the wall, which I recognize from Ethan's room. The events of the early morning come rushing back into my mind and I bite my lip to keep from crying. I'd already had enough self-pity.
I turn slowly and look at the dark-haired guy sleeping peacefully. He snores a little bit and I'm forced to control my laughter. I let myself observe his details for a few seconds: the big lashes that make me envious, the two little freckles near his eyes that are really cute, about three little marks on his skin I hadn't noticed before that don't look like acne... maybe chickenpox? Maybe I'll ask that later. The black hair falling on his forehead makes me want to fix it, but I hold back, just like I hold back the urge to hug him again for all the comfort and support he gave me last night.
Him and... Logan.
Damn. A new level of humiliation for me had been unlocked in front of that guy. Once again.
I let out a sigh of defeat.
Despite everything, I was really grateful for his care with me and I was going to find a way to thank him for it soon.
The growl in my stomach reminds me I have other, more urgent needs. Carefully, I take Ethan's hand off my waist and slide out of bed. I grab my phone from the nightstand and hurry to the bathroom.
After peeing and using the mouthwash that'll have to do, since I don't have a toothbrush, I leave the room and check the notifications on my phone.
Damn. There are a million messages and calls from my mom. She must have seen the news online.
The apartment is completely silent, confirming that Logan must be asleep too. I grab an apple I find in the kitchen and head to the small balcony, where I lean on the railing and return Doctor McCarthy's call.
She answers on the third ring.
"Charlotte June McCarthy, are you planning to give me a heart attack?" she practically shouts on the other end, skipping any greeting.
"Hi, Mom. No, I swear I'm not. But what happened was crazy and I wasn't going to call you in the middle of the night, I'donly leave you terrified and..." I try to explain, but she huffs and interrupts me.
"You should have called me! At any hour! I'm your mother! And I was on shift, wide awake!" she exclaims indignantly, except the bit of information she lets slip makes me gasp.
"You're taking night shifts again?"
"It was just yesterday! But don't try to turn this on me, I'm mad at you!"
"And why are you mad at me? I'm the one whose room burned down, you should be comforting me!" I shoot back, because it's true, it's my turn to freak out here, not hers. That seems to finally make her snap out of it. I hear her let the air out of her lungs and her next sentence comes out with a more controlled voice.
"Oh, God, that's true. I'm so sorry, my daughter. It's just that I got so worried that the only reason I didn't get in the car and come there was because the news article said no one was seriously hurt, but if you'd taken any longer to reach out, I really would have lost my mind," she says, and I nod, even though she can't see it. "But enough of that! Tell me, how are you? How did it happen?"
