cold; I was numb and shaking like a leaf during a storm. The bedsheet was soaked with my sweat, and I swallowed past the heavy lump in my throat.
It was just a nightmare.
Lies.
How could it be just a nightmare if it followed me when I was awake?
My heart pounded in my chest, and there was a dull pain.
The world spun, and I wanted to vomit as my stomach churned with nausea. The pain in my head flashed hard and heavy.
Breathe. Fucking breathe. Goddamn it.
Slamming my fist into the mattress, I let out a snarl. Hate. Anger. Self-loathing. Pain, so much fucking pain clashed together, and my head swam with all the emotions. Fuck this, FUCK!
I rolled over and grabbed the bottle on the nightstand.
I convinced myself I wasn’t an alcoholic, but tonight… I had to drink, had to forget.
Taking a long sip, I felt the alcohol burn down my throat, and I winced, my brows furrowed tight with pain. My temples twitched, and it felt like I was sticking hot needles into my eyes as I continued to drink from the bottle.
My stomach heaved as I remembered how I called out for my parents, but they never came… and then I remembered crying on Lila’s shoulders, like I had done before in that closet when I was seven years old.
Lila saw me at my weakest, and I hated her for holding me like that, as if she cared.
She didn’t.
No one did.
My heart thumped harder, almost angrily, and it pumped acid through my veins, except I was…drowning.
It was then I realized that you didn’t need water to drown.
Just like there hadn’t been any real monster in that closet when I was seven years old, but the monsters had been in my head, and to this day, I couldn’t escape them.
My body swayed, heavy and lethargic, as I took one last gulp before throwing the empty bottle on the floor. I fell back on the bed, sinking into oblivion.
Sweet fucking silence.
16
Lila
Gran pushed a box in my hand. “Storage, please.”
She patted my cheek affectionately before rushing away to help the customer waiting for her. Gran was always on her toes. That was exactly why I told them to hire more people to help in the store. Old people were stubborn to the bone.
My gaze slid over to the windows as I walked out of the storage. When I caught sight of who I was looking for, my heart skittered a beat.
Black hoodie, ripped designer jeans and leather boots.
Maddox looked almost too good to be true. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he was some kind of fallen angel. But he was anything but.
Maddox stood outside, his hood over his head as he smoked his cigarette in the cold. He had his hands shoved in his pockets, and his head bent low, staring at the ground.
Something had shifted between us since that day.
A week had gone by. Maddox was still his usual asshole self, but sometimes, I got the feeling he was purposely avoiding me.
The only time I saw real mirth in his eyes was when I hid a pink, glittery dildo in his locker. It was during lunch, the hallways crowded and bustling with students, when Maddox opened his locker. Mr. Big Ben aka Mr. Dildo slapped him square in the face while everyone around him gasped and promptly started laughing.
I had winked and sashayed away, satisfaction coursing through my veins, after seeing the look on his face. I made him grin, a real smile since that day we had been locked in the storage room.
The dildo prank was two days ago.
Yesterday, he retaliated with fake cockroaches in my bag and my sweater. I remembered throwing my bag on the ground, screaming bloody murder, while the students burst out laughing like it was the best joke of the century.
It was humiliating to say the least. I wanted to be mad. I had every right to be, but the moment I had spotted Maddox laughing, all my anger faded away.
Poof, just like that.
“He doesn’t look very cheerful, does he?” Gran came to stand beside me, watching Maddox through the window. “He came in early today to help with inventory, and he hasn’t eaten anything yet.”
“He didn’t have lunch?”
It was almost three in the afternoon.
A customer called for Gran, and she patted me on the arm before walking away.
Before I could think through my actions, call my instinct to help, I had grabbed a wrapped sandwich from the fridge and was walking out of