The corner of her mouth lifts. Half asleep, she mutters, “I think about that night all the time.”
My heart thunders. “Me too.”
16
i’m. fine.
Hannah
Razorblades of sunlightcut my eyelids. The gentle thud of slow footsteps fills my ears a moment before the bed dips behind me.
“Rise and shine, valentine.”
I groan, Mom’s chipper voice a painful contrast to the dull throb in my head. My eyes filter open as memories of last night begin to surface.
Daniel. The parking lot.Rowan.Too many tequila shots.My God, I puked in the alley.
Propping up on my elbow, I take stock of my current state. Clumped mascara lines my lashes. My mouth is dry and tastes like…vomit.
Rowan tucked me in like a child. He knelt by my bed and swept the hair off my face. Lord help me, the man smelled my puke breath.
I’m still wearing the dress I hate. But it gets worse. I’m in my favorite hoodie.Hishoodie. The hoodiehehelped me put on.Kill me now.
I curse my birth, falling back on my pillow like a damsel on the cover of a Victorian era romance novel.
“That bad?” Mom asks.
Without a word, I roll out of bed and head to the bathroom,needing to delay this conversation because her eyes tell me she knows too much already.
After I pee and brush my teeth, all while refusing to look at my reflection lest the vomit goblin staring back strike me dead, I traipse back to my room. Mom is right where I left her.
I’m not surprised she’s here. She and Rowan probably conspired the whole thing while I was stuck trying to remember how words worked.
Mom stares, patiently biding her time. Waiting for me to crack. I take the coffee she offers me and let the hot liquid set fire to my throat, the sensation a reminder that I’m here. Whole.Fine.
“I don’t wanna talk about it, Mom.” I glimpse the clock on the nightstand. “Holy crap!I’m so late.”
Rushing back to the bathroom, I crank on the shower and throw my hair into a clip. No time for a wash today. Dry shampoo and a spritz of perfume will hopefully mask the tepid scent of tequila. While the water heats up, I run to my closet and pick out a shirt and skirt, tossing them on the bed.
“I already texted Kristen and said you’d probably not be in today. She’s covering for you.”
One foot over the threshold of the bathroom, I freeze and whirl around. “You didn’t tell her, did you?”
“How could I, Hannah? You haven’t told me anything.”
Rowan didn’t tell her anything? The thought steadies the rush of my heart despite there still being so much about him being back in town I haven’t processed yet. I avert my gaze and peel off my clothes, stuffing the dress in the trash bin where it belongs.
When I step out of the shower a few minutes later wrapped in a towel, she’s still there. I dart around my room like a rogue ping-pong ball. Bra. Clothes. Shoes. Earrings. Mom tracks my every move, the pressure of her attention making nerves prickle across my skin until I can’t take it anymore.
“You’re looking at me way too loud right now. Nothing happened, okay?”
I move past her but she grabs my forearm to stop me. “This doesn’t look likenothing, Haddy.”
Her eyes flick to my wrist. I swiftly tug myarm away when I see the bruises for myself. My nose burns, breaths coming shallow and slow. Fists clenched at my sides to hide the tremor there, I shake my head and square my shoulders.
“I’m. Fine.”
She doesn’t respond. Just surveys me like the liar she knows I am.