of my boot slams against something hard, sending me stumbling forward. All at once I am flying through the air. The last thing I remember is the crushing pain in my chest, and maybe, probably, it’s the breaking of my heart.
Chapter Seventeen
My nightmares are worse than they have ever been. Justin and Angela, walking away from me as I slide down the muddy embankment toward the river. I’m screaming for help, but they are too enamored of one another to hear me. I claw at the earth, but my fingers just rake through mud. The girl in the pink party dress is standing over me. She spews more mud from her mouth, then reaches toward me. At first I think she is going to help me. Instead, she entwines her fingers in the hair at the top of my head and pushes my face into the soft earth. I can’t breathe; all I can do is taste the thick, gritty stuff as it spreads into my mouth and nostrils. Now even screaming isn’t possible. Someone is chanting something. You’re a stupid girl, a female voice whispers in my ear. Stupid, stupid.
My throat is so dry it burns, which is ironic considering the background noise is the rushing water, so close I can probably touch it. I smell tree sap. Wisps of hair fly in my face, tickling me. I try to sweep them away with my hand, but I can’t lift my arm. I take inventory and realize I can’t lift either arm, or my legs. My limbs ache numbly, as if they’re bound so tightly that my feet and hands tingle. I’m afraid to open my eyes, because I know that what I’ll see won’t be good.
When I will my eyes open, it’s so dark that all I see are the faint outlines of the pine trees. I twist my head either way, looking for the source of the voice. Was it just my imagination again? Have I been left here to die, alone, at the base of this tree?
Then I hear footsteps. A face shockingly pale and ghostlike appears just inches from mine. The voice is the same as the one I heard in my dream. “She’s awake! Get her some water.”
My eyes ache as I try to open them, as if the lids are weighted down. When I force them open, I see only blackness. Water should be the last thing I need, but when a cup reaches my lips I lap at it savagely, like a dog, feeling it spill down my chin and into my throat. It’s strangely thick and oily and smells of mold and earth, but I don’t care. I swallow and the pain subsides, and when I open my eyes again, things come into focus.
I stare at her. Everything about her is familiar. It’s Lannie. My imaginary best friend from long ago. She holds up a lantern between us to look into my eyes. Hers are pretty and round, like pearls, with concern. She’s not imaginary. She’s real.
“Lannie?” I ask, struggling to rise. “What are you—”
She pushes me down and gently relaxes me on a bed of pine needles. “Shhh. You should rest.”
“Well, who do we have here?” a male voice calls from a distance. I strain in the darkness and see him sauntering toward me. Jack. Immediately I catch my breath, and despite the pain everywhere in my body, I feel warm. Despite all the warnings Trey gave me, I know I am blushing. Why does Jack do this to me?
He gives me a seductive half smile, like he knows what I’m thinking. I look away, at Lannie, in time to see her glare at him. Jack, all six-feet-and-change of him, seems to fold in under the stare of the barely five-foot girl. He lowers his head and silently steps back.
I begin to sit up. “I need to go home. I need to—” Suddenly I remember dancing with Justin under the disco lights at the Outfitters. The expression on his face. His confession reverberates in my ears. I kissed Angela. I can’t go back to him. I don’t want to see him now, and maybe not ever. I slump back to the ground.
Jack steps closer to me. This near, his eyes threaten to set me afire, so I look away, to his knees. He whispers, “Can I get you anything?”
My heart skips at his words, as if he has offered me the world. I think about what Trey said. About Jack