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When we pull up to the mansion, Kota makes no move to get out, so I go over and open the door for her. Even when I put a hand out, she doesn’t take it.

“Can you walk?”

She looks me in the eyes and shakes her head.

I try not to smile as I pick her up, bridal-style, and carry her inside. She’s so small and fits so perfectly in my arms.

She’s also tracing circles on my chest that has me breaking out in goose bumps.

“Drawing anything in particular?”

“My headstone.”

I almost bite it on the stairs. On my chest? On me?

“When I die, I want it to be right here.” Her hand goes still, the palm pressed just under my collarbone.

If she notices my heartbeat pick up, she doesn’t say anything.

“Why’s that?”

After a long inhale near my neck, she says, “It seems like a safe place to rest.”

“Well…” I think about how to respond. Something romantic? Definitely not. Something funny? Maybe. But what? That was maybe the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me and all I can do is choke back silence.

Maybe that’s for the best. She’s drunk, I remind myself. She doesn’t know what she’s saying, what she’s doing. She’s—

Gagging.

Shit.

Rushing through her room and into her attached bathroom, I get her in front of the toilet a second before she starts puking.

All I can do is watch while gripping the back of my neck.

Jesus fuck. I’ve never seen so much come out of someone so tiny.

What do I do? I can’t leave her like this.

But I don’t want to stay either. Puke is fucking gross and Kota seems to have a lot of it.

I flush the toilet with the toe of my shoe just to be safe.

Unfortunately, that does nothing for the odor.

Still heaving, Kota curls over the toilet bowl, her blonde hair falling all around her.

“Uh.” Bending down, I gather her hair together and hold it at the back of her skull in one hand. “Do you have a…” I search the counter for those bands girls always have in surplus but find none. “Hair…thingy?”

No?

Fuck. How do I… What if…

Okay. I can stand here, above her puking her guts out, and hold her hair. I’ll just breathe through my mouth.

I flush the toilet with my shoe again.

Eventually, Kota’s body calms enough for her to turn her head and rest her cheek on the toilet seat.