Page 10
My head starts to pound.
It’s so dark..
And cold…
My fingers are clawing through the dirt…
I’m being dragged…
Dragged into the woods…
Wake up, Harper. Wake up!
My sister's voice floats through the shadows.
But I don’t want to wake up.
Ever again.
Chapter 3
Harper
Eventually, I make it back to my dorm. Although, the surfacing memories are still lingering in my brain, like a cough that repeatedly punches me in the lungs.
I wait until I get back to my dorm room to reply to my sister’s text. I send her a quick: I’m awake, what’s up? Then I set my wallet, phone, and coffee onto the kitchen table before going over to Zayla’s shut bedroom door. I listen first before I knock to see if I can tell if she’s awake. I’m deliberating whether or not I should knock when her door opens up.
She’s on the other side, and she blinks when she sees me.
“What’re you doing?” she mumbles with exhaustion laced in her voice.
“I came to check on you.” I lift the coffee I’m holding up in front of me. “And to give you this.”
She eyes the cup like it’s the devil himself. “What is it?”
“A latte… Why are you acting so weird about this?”
“I don’t know….” She tentatively reaches for the cup. “After how I treated you last night, I wouldn’t be surprised if it was like orange juice or something.”
Zayla has this weird thing about drinking orange juice after she’s been drinking. It started when she went to this party at the beginning of the year, drank a bunch of screwdrivers, then spent the rest of the night vomiting. And apparently the taste of orange juice coming up was traumatic enough that she basically dry heaves at the smell of it.
“Well, I did consider it,” I tease her with a grin.
She frowns at the coffee.
“I’m just kidding,” I tell her. “I promise it’s just a latte.”
She blows out this slow exhale. “I’m sorry. I just feel like shit.”
“I bet.” I make my way back to the kitchen. “How much did you even have to drink, because it didn’t seem like you drank a lot, but I’m guessing you were pretty wasted toward the end of the night, considering what happened?”
“I wasn’t that drunk, but then while you were arguing with Brooks, I freaked out and downed a bunch of vodka,” she grimaces as she trudges into the kitchen.
She takes a seat at the table while I wander into the kitchen to get some breakfast.
“What happened while I was arguing with Brooks?” I ask cautiously as I grab a bag of bagels from out of one of the cupboards. “Because I’m not even sure how you found Ollie.”
She takes a sip of her drink and then frowns. “After I drank the vodka, I hid in the pantry closet until Brooks left the stairway then I snuck upstairs.”
