Page 40 of The Unravelings

“Knock, knock, roomie! I’ve come with delicious gifts of soup and crackers!” Simon’s voice rings through the door.

Simon. What a Godsend. He’s been the best caregiver I could have asked for. Tell the man you have the flu, and he immediately runs to the corner store to grab medicine, soup, and loads of crackers. Today? He chose a small café off campus with killer toasted sandwiches, homemade soup, and ginger ale.

Although I do feel a little guilty for lying to him, it’s not exactly the flu. My body still aches from the fight against Brutus. Hello, bruised face and ribs. And my period is still trying to murder me. Well, not as much. It’s tapering off and giving me a little peace. Thank God. That’s one less thing I have to worry about concealing while I’m here. It’s already been hard enough hiding tampons in the trash without the two other men here noticing.

How is this my life again?

“Coming!” I rasp out and throw the blanket off my legs reluctantly.

Every time I peel myself away from my bed, the reality of my situation pushes harder on my shoulders. I’m surprised I haven’t fallen over from it. I haven’t physically seen JJ since that moment three days ago.

It doesn’t mean I haven’t heard from him, though. He’s like a persistent tick on my ass, constantly poking at me through text messages. If I thought the one threatening message three days ago was all I’d get, I was wrong.

JJ: You’re avoiding me…

JJ: Where are you? We need to have a long conversation, Spitfire.

JJ: We need to discuss the treehouse…and the gravestone…

Spitfire. There it is. That name that will forever haunt me every time I close my eyes. It’s not the messages hovering over me like a ghost. It’s the memories, too. From the past and present. The way he looked at me. The surprise in his eyes and the tears threatening to seep out when he saw me as Oliver.

I can’t erase it. He’s there every time I close my eyes.

I know I need to be a big girl and confront him once and for all. They’d never see me coming. Right? I took out Brutus. Who is to say I can’t take out all three of them now? Before I died, I was a weak little girl, used to submitting to her father. I found light and love with the boys, but I was still small and couldn’t stand up for myself.

I’m a different Olivia now. Badass. Or that’s what I like to tell myself.

The biggest question I have for JJ is: has he told the others about me? Because I’m not sure. I expected more by now. More fights. More violence. I mean, I’ve been a sitting duck for three days straight. So, they’re either waiting me out to strike me down, or—and this is a big or—JJ hasn’t said anything. Weird, right? Why wouldn’t he burst into the mansion dramatically, yelling that I’m alive and they need to grab more weapons to subdue me? Well, no need to subdue me, boys. I’m doing a fine job of that myself. I’m primed and ready for the taking. AKA the second death that feels imminent.

Fuck.

I peer at the empty fifth of Jack Daniel’s resting on my desk. Did I drink an entire fifth of shitty-tasting whiskey I don’t even like in three days to numb the constant pain gnawing at me? Yes. I made a choice—an unhealthy one to cope with all the fuckery happening around me. Yes, it took my pain away, but gave me a hangover from hell.

Enter Simon with my delicious-smelling soup.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, I gingerly climb to my feet with shaky legs. Damn. Lying in bed for so many days straight hasn’t been good for my body. I’ll have to get myself back into shape. These past few weeks as a college student haven’t done me any favors.

My phone beeps again on my desk, but I ignore it for now. I know exactly who it is. JJ. Another pleading message for me to answer him.

But I can’t. I can hardly bring myself to read his messages right now without the crushing feeling of the world ending in a fiery doom around me. Let alone leave my room and face them all.

I’m such a coward.

Slowly, I open my bedroom door a crack and peek out.

“Oh, Oli.” Simon grimaces, shrinking back. “Here’s your soup and crackers. I even threw in a fancy avocado and chicken sandwich.” He pushes the bags forward until I take them. “Hopefully, these will have you feeling tip-top in no time.” He offers me a pained smile, taking another step away from me. “Don’t want to get the germs,” he says softly, rustling the bags for me to take.

“I appreciate it, Si,” I whisper and fake a cough into my shoulder, really trying to sell the ailment I don’t have. “This flu is kicking my ass.” Simon takes another step back and nods in agreement.

His hands immediately go on the defensive. “Yeah, you still don’t look so good. You know, there’s a secret doctor on campus who could probably take a look at you.”

Wade huffs behind him, coming into view and staring me down. “You look like you could use a doctor, dude.” His nose wrinkles at the sight of my hair standing on end. “And a shower.”

“Rude!” Simon hisses, pushing Wade away slightly. “He’s been sick!” Simon throws his hands all around.

“What? I’m telling the truth, dude. Oli, man. No offense.” He shrugs before trotting off into the mini kitchen and grabbing a can of Lysol from under the sink. “Just as a precaution.” Thick sprays of Lysol beam in the sunshine streaming through the small living quarters’ windows, killing all the non-existent germs.

Simon rolls his eyes dramatically. “Sorry about him, Oli. He’s sort of a germaphobe when it comes to illnesses. It’s probably why he prefers to spend time with the dogs!” he sarcastically shouts over his shoulder.